Hehe. I can't believe I actually finished this! *spilling-miles-of-rainbows-and-unicorns* anyway, so here is a little one shot for ur amusement.
Though, I do hope u don't take fun from Francis's pain. Kinda mean…R&R plz ^^
Warning: boyxboy (kinda ) and… swearing? Does anyone really care? Probably not… oh! And pardon my French/Spanish considering I am neither
Disclaimer: why would I write a fanfiction about it, if I owned it? Doesn't make sense…
I see you. Standing over there. With what? Happiness? Does he give that to you? I'd once thought I had done that for you… I guess I was wrong, cher. How could I have been so blind to you? I feel horrible for this, and I am so deeply sorry. To have ignored your needs, but you have found someone… Someone that will diffidently fill my gap better than I ever would.
"Hey, Franie! What's up with the tears?" My friend, Spain sits next to me. Rubs my back a little, while I dry my little specks of tears. I hadn't realized they had came.
"Nothing's wrong. Absolument… rien." I sputtered out.
He gives me this look. Just this look of knowing. "Me, you, and Gilbert. We're going to that bar." I looked over at Gilbert, who now had plans that he didn't even know about. Spain turned my chin back to face him. "Tonight. You'll get over him…" He added, adverting his own eyes. Yes, of course my little Antonio would know. Who didn't know about me and Anglerette?
Spain swung his chair around to face Gilbert, who was having a little lover's quarrel with Canada. Ah, to see them together. Why would it feel like this? Hm… "Yo, Gil! We got plans tonight, 'kay?"
Prussia turned to look at Spain quizzically, but then he saw me next to him. Still trying to dry my eyes. He gave a gruff nod, and continued his glaring contest with Matthew. I hope that doesn't lead into something serious…
"Hey, look at me! Francis~ Lookie, lookie!" Spain started waving his hand in front of my face.
"What is it, cher?"
"Señor Pablo!" He then continued to shove a tiny turtle into my face.
"Aw~" I answered as I held out my hands to take him. I held the turtle, turning him so he faced me. "Hello Monsieur Pablo~ Comment êtes-vous?" He wiggles around a little as he tries to find an escape route. Finding none, he hides himself in his shell. "I see." I lower my eyes. "I guess we're in similar moods…" I hand the turtle back over to Spain.
Then I hear stomps of heavy army boots. "Shut up! It's time for the meeting to commence!" The seemingly head of command, Germany ordered. He looked around, as if asking if anyone objected. No one ever did. So, he sat done in his normal seat next to little Feli. Cute as ever~. How he ever came to befriend that monster, I'll never know.
My eyes travel back over to Anglerette… Him and his Amérique are holding hands underneath the table. Every once in a while, Amérique will whisper something into Aglerette's ear. Anglerette would blush; then slap Amérique's hand. Though, he would continue to hold it. Oh~, Anglerette. You were always the shy one…
And with that, the meeting ended. As normal, nothing was accomplished. But the day was young; we have plenty of time to live. Even though, right now, I feel like dying.
"Hey, Francis! Yo, Francis~. Francis!" Gilbert calls me, as we walk down the street to our favorite bar.
I let out a long sigh. "Yes, cher?"
"Because I'm so awesome, I'm paying for tonight. You dig? So drink as much as you want!"
"What about Matthew-darling? Won't he be upset that you spent so much money on boos?"
"Nah, he's cool with it, as long as I don't end up dead in some alley somewhere." Gilbert waves off the idea.
"So~ if you end up dead in someone else's room with chain burns and bite marks, it's okay?" Spain asked, in what seemed just complete curiosity. I was already gone, thinking about how Anglerette would have my ass if he found out I had spent so much for boos with friends…
Gilbert just cocked his head. "You know what, as the awesome me has absolutely no chance of dying, I don't think it would really matter." He shrugged his shoulders. Obviously, this would be a question to ask his beloved later.
We entered the bar, and sat at one of the dusty old tables. Dirty, cheap, and loud. That was us, all right. "Yo, waiter! Put three beers on us!" I started to complain, wanting a nice cup of wine to the tasteless ale, but Spain stopped me.
Wrapping an arm around my neck, he dragged me closer to himself. "Tonight is all about you, so drink the heavier stuff. Hey, next round, why not go for the whiskey? It'll make ya forget practically everything."
Well, 21 ales and 2½ a bottles of whiskey later I did not feel 'alright'. To be correct, I felt the complete opposite of 'alright'. Wrapping my fingers tighter around the bottle's neck, a spilled more of the acid down my throat.
"Mensonges, mensonges~. All, mensonges~."I sang out. I whipped around to face Spain, "I still feel-hic-like a piece of shit! I thought this was supposed to work, no?"
"Hic-yeah, well. I guess we need a miracle then, don't we?" Antonio slurred back at me. The bartender was coming our way. Yelling, ouch, yeah, yelling at us to leave.
Alright, alright. We all fall into the corner, but it's okay. I still have my whiskey.
"Yeah, well bastard, I think you tricked me!" I blurted. Too far gone to really care.
"Tricked you?" Antonio gasps. Sitting down on his bum, he starts to think. What is there to think about?
"Now, now. Would the awesome Prussia try to trick someone? That's totally not awesome!" Gilbert yelled as he threw a fist near my face, but missed horribly. But I did manage a good blow to his jaw line, making the buffoon step back.
"If the guy is making you this upset, I think you should go talk to him," Antonio finally came out of his stage of thought, stilling slurring his words the whole way.
"Yeah, what he said!" Gilbert added as he started to come back around. He slung an arm around the Spaniard. "Trust us! Have we ever let you down before?"
"On multiple occasions," I answered his rhetorical question.
"Well, that's besides the point. What you need, is to talk to that fucker. No," He stopped, pointing a finger at me. He grinned evilly. "You need to have a good fucking. Just go over there! Take charge!"
My interest started getting aroused. Yeah! I could make my Arthur come back. Leave that stupid American. Obviously I was the better choice. Who can refuse a Frenchman? No one, that's who!
"Hey, tomato bastard! You ready to go?" A little Italian called from the side of a taxi that just rolled up the road.
"Aw~, mi tomate came to pick me-hic-up!" Antonio ran over to Romano and gave him a huge-drunken-bear hug.
Romano started blushing as he pushed Antonio to a safe distance. "Nooo, it's more like I was forced out of the dead of night, because I remembered that you were yelling to the potato bastard over there, about going out tonight. I just so remembered that you fuckin' made me promise to pick you up after it was over. So, get in the fucking taxi before I force you to!"
"Oooo~! Lover's fight, lover's fight!" Chanted Gilbert, who hung over the side of a nearby telephone pole. Then, he promptly threw up all over said telephone pole.
"Get in the damn taxi, you idiot!"
"But let me say goodbye~!"
"Fine, make it quick." Romano mumbled as the Spaniard came flying over to say goodbye to us.
He patted Gilbert on the shoulder, "You should leave, before someone notices you did that." He suggested. Which, Gilbert grunted that he was right. Slowly, Gilbert waved me off and limped down the road to his house. Antonio looked over at me, looking completely sober for a man who drank a hefty portion of that 21 ale count. He put his hand on my right shoulder and gave it a squeeze. "Whatever you plan to do right now, just remember that me and Gil are behind you whole-heartedly." He smiled gently, and pulled out the turtle. "And Señor Pablo~!"
I laughed at his childishness and rubbed the turtle's shell with my finger. Oui, the feeling of having true friends…
Antonio withdrew Monsieur Pablo back to his front pocket, saying his final farewells. Skipping over to Romano, he kissed him on the cheek and allowed the Italian to shove him into the taxi.
Now, it's just me. I don't really want to have to do this… But my Anglerette. I just need to see him one more time, before I can let this go. But, can I let this go?
Walking down the street, I was heading for the train. A quick ride and here I am. My little Arthur's home of Anglerette~. Oh~, Anglerette. I hope you take me back. The whiskey in my hand is heavy, but not as heavy as the pain in my chest.
Heh. This old dirt road. I remember it well. I walked down it every day to Anglerette's cottage-like house every day I could. It's where we had most of our fights. It's where we had our first kiss. It's also where we broke up at. Maybe it's where we'll get back together again at. Maybe it's where it all starts…
I open his little garden gate, to walk up his stoned path way to his porch. Up his wooden stair way… 'Welcome' the mats says in front of his old-fashioned door. Hm, my vision. How long has there been a ring of fuzz around it? No matter, it'll clear up in the morning. I check the clock, and it says it's 1: 43 a.m. Make that latter today.
I knock on the door with quick, loud knocks. At first, no one answers. But I knew better, since there was light on the second floor. I knock again, with more force. I swig my whiskey, letting the fire run down my throat again. Giving me courage and probably more health problems in the future. On the third knocking session, I heard scrambling and quiet cursing.
I start another assault of knocking when I'm rudely interrupted. "Stop the bloody knocking already. Bloody hell, shut the fuck already!" my little Anglerette yells as he makes his way through the large house. A short while later, the door opens, revealing him to me at last.
He's a mess. His hair is spurred into all kinds of different directions. His shirt looked at least two sizes bigger than it should be, and his pants were thrown on, forgetting to zipper them up. He was bare foot, which he rarely showed even in his own house. But, as I looked back up to his face, I notice a twitch of anger and a horrible blush that would rival even Romano's tomato.
"What do you want, frog? You do realize it's almost 2 in the morning?" He asks quietly, avoiding any eye contact that I might be trying to make. Not that I was really sober enough to look anything right in the eye right now.
"Ju-just came to see you, Anglerette… How a-are you?" I noticed for the first time just how drunk I probably looked. My hair was also a mess and my shirt was untucked. The sleeves were rolled up past the elbow. Not to even mention that I still had the whiskey bottle in my left hand.
"You look like a train wreck." He stated calmly.
"Yeah, well so do you," his blush worsened, if it could do that.
Then I hear it in the background, that tiny little thing that just sets me off completely. "Hey, Artie~. Who is it?" Alfred comes up behind Anglerette, wrapping his arms around his waist. He rested his head on top of Arthur's and I felt like punching it inwards. But I noticed Arthur's tiny smile and stopped myself. "Oh, it's Francis. Wuz's up?"
He isn't wearing his glasses, nor was a shirt on him to speak of. Only thing on the boy that I could see was the hint of pants from behind one of Arthur's legs that didn't match the color of his own.
"Just came to check up on Anglerette." I sighed.
Arthur's heavy eyebrows scrunched together. "Will you stop calling me that! You know I can't stand that name." His lip pouted a little bit, which just made him so much cuter. But I don't think he realized how badly his words had hurt just then.
"Aw~ Poor wittle Artie's getting angry~" Alfred started cooing above his boyfriend's head. I felt sick to my stomach, and not in a drunk way.
"Arthur… I-I…Want nothing but for you to be happy. I ho-hic-hope you know that." I finally sputtered with my eyes down casted.
"A-, yeah. Sure. You too," Arthur stumbled, as he shifted his position. Alfred shifted to stay in place with him.
Alfred's eyes widened. I wonder if he ever knew that we were together. Well, since he's with Anglerette, I would only guess the he would tell him eventually. And by the way Alfred just tighten his grip around Arthur's waist, I would suppose he didn't want me around anymore tonight.
We stood there. Just looking around, trying not to meet each other's eyes. Anything to keep the blissful silence as the alcohol started catching up with my head. A dull thudding starting to bring on a soon to be, dreadful headache.
"Ah, with all of us getting all lovey and stuff, Francis, come here!" Alfred let go of his boyfriend and started coming toward me. But, for once, I really didn't want a hug. Not from Alfred, in the very least. I backed away, until I felt my foot met the first step. Knowing I couldn't go further down without hurting myself, I just stopped. Not sure what to do. Alfred continued to step forward, and warped his arms around my neck, with his head against my right shoulder. "If you ever try to make Arthur cry like you did before, I swear I will hunt you down, Frenchie." He mumbled gruffly into my neck. Then he let go with a "Aw~ Feel better?"
"Not in the least," I answered plainly, shock must be apparent on my face.
"Well, too bad, cuz that's all you're getting'" He laughed out in that annoying 'hero voice' of his. Slapping my back, he went back to the doorway where Arthur patiently waited. All you're getting. Oui, you are making your statement loud and clear.
"Well, then. I guess I'll be making my adieux then." I said, swaying a bit, back and forth. Not quite sure what to do, to be honest.
"If that means goodbye, then yes, I think it is about time for you to leave." Arthur sighed, leaning with the help of the doorframe.
"Oui, that is what adieux means. More or less," I said as I leaned closer to the door frame. I noticed Alfred stiffening, but I didn't really care at the moment. "Even though, Je encore t'aimer. I can-hic-I can let. You. Go." I whispered out the last parts as I backed him through the doorway.
"Okay, Frenchie, that's-" Alfred started, but I backed up quickly. I flailed my whiskey bottle into Alfred's face, not really trying to hit him.
"I know, I know. He's yours! I get it. Je comprends, je comprends…" I mumble the rest as I back my way out. Slowly I descend the stairs. I hear the door slam behind me for good measure, and with it a big, fat tear rolls down my face. "Mais je t'aimerai toujours, ma Angleterre…"
The end! Hope you liked it. ^^
Translations for those that r like me and multilingually challenged~
~French to English~
Cher – dear / absolument rien – absolutely nothing / Anglerette – England / Monsieur - Mister
Comment êtes-vous? – How are you? / Amérique – America / Mensonges – lies / Oui - yes
Adieux – farewell / Je encore t'aimer – I still love you / Mais je t'aimerai toujours,ma Angleterre – But I will always love you, my England.
~Spanish to English~
Señor – Mister / Mi tomate – my tomato