France lay on his shared bed with England in silence, sighing heavily under his breath. He had another fight with England again but accepted that it was his fault. However, England had overreacted a little. However, he may have teased him a bit too much. He knew he often took things too far but it was not always intentional, he just tended to have a short attention span is all.

But the way England had reacted had not been fun. Yelling at him aggressively, cursing and storming off to sulk, then telling him to shove off and many rude expressions. Honestly, England had such a vulgar tongue sometimes, but in this case his actions were justified. They were both very much in the wrong here but England had been excessive.

What happened to the days when he sulked or puffed his cheeks out when upset. England used to be so cute as a kid, what with his big rosy cheeks, clingy yet feisty personality, a cry-baby and yet strong willed. Never honest about his feelings vocally, but his actions said otherwise. Showing how much he cared for those around him.

But France had loved him, all these years later he still loved him. He was and still is his first love, he could never look at anyone the same way. Love was never easy but it was worth it, he knew that all too well after dating England. But deep down he wondered if England knew how precious he was to him. That he only teased him out of love. But though they argued sometimes, and teased each other. Sometimes he worried that England took it the wrong way.

It was sad to admit, but the playground tactic really did work in this case. But sometimes he wished he could go back in time to when England was small and cute still. Everything was so much easier between them. He then rolled over onto the bed, groaning under his breath and burying his face into his pillow. Wishing things could just be easier, that things could go back to the way things used to be.

France woke up in a field, surrounded by bright flowers of many kinds and a big blue sky above him. A gentle breeze blowing the flower heads, their sweet perfume filling the air and spreading their pollen. He wondered if this was a dream, but he had never dreamed of something that wasn't angst filled or sexy before. It was rare he dreamed of his childhood.

He slowly sat up, in a daze of sorts and his head fuzzy. One minute he was in his bed and sulking, now he was outside and surrounded by nature. He wondered if this was a prank, having been moved while he was asleep. He sighed heavily and got to his feet, dusting himself off a little. After lying in the dirt, he would have to do laundry again. He had a habit of keeping himself clean, both hygiene wise and clothes wise.

He decided to go for a walk, he may as well look around while he was here. It would help him clear his head and bad mood after what had happened. Helping reach rationality and reason again. He had never enjoyed being in a foul mood for too long as it was ungentlemanly and ruined his company for other people. Preferring to find healthier ways of dealing with his frustration.

Suddenly, an arrow was fired at him and hit his head. Its point sticking into his head lightly, but not enough to draw blood. It didn't hurt so much as it was annoying, wondering whom had been so rude to attack him. He turned with a confused expression to see an annoyed England pointing a bow and arrow at him. He looked angry and was crying, most likely wondering what the hell he was doing here.

But he was back to being a small child again. France could hardly believe it, one of his prayers had finally been answered. What with his adorable chubby cherub cheeks, big green eyes and his small ruffled blonde hair. He was so damn cute, but he grew up to be a pain in the ass. Just when had things taken a turn for the worst and England became so stubborn?

However, England was bullied a lot as a child by the bigger nations. Constantly pushing him around and making him feel like shit. No wonder he had grown up to be such a tsundere. He was not as adored as America was when he was young. Most likely the cause for his insecurity and jealousy as an adult, angry that others were given the happiness he never had.

He knelt down to face England, a fond look on his face as he admired him. As cute as Canada and America when they were kids. But England was his first angel, his childhood best friend."Bonjour Angleterre" he replied fondly. It seemed he got his wish to return to the past after all. Able to go back to the happier and more innocent times from their youth. He never wanted this moment to end.

England stiffened, backing off and stepping away from him. Still gripping his bow and arrow in hand tightly. Despite France being older, England still didn't trust him. Knowing the pranks he was capable of. He didn't believe him, he was always showing off and saying how much better his nation was. There was no way in hell he was a nice guy, this had to be some kind of prank on his half.

France gave England a sympathetic look, feeling guilty of his past actions. Though he was not as a bad as a child. He had been pretty bad at teasing him and trying to outdo him. "Angleterre, I know I have wronged you in the past. But I promise you, I won't hurt you" he replied in devotion. If anything, he simply wanted to reminisce over happier times, better times. Before everything had become so complicated.

England hesitated, but he could sense that France was being genuine. He didn't sense any lies or hidden motives from him. He lowered his bow and approached France shyly, holding out his hand to him. He wanted to believe France, he wanted to trust him. But he hoped this wasn't just a trick on France's half. He was known for being mischievous and playing pranks on him to his own dispense.

England was sat on France's lap quietly, France holding him on his lap. His arms wrapped protectively around him, watching the blue sky and white fluffy clouds above them. A sense of comfort between them. France was humming happily, content with being close to England. Why couldn't England enjoy affection like when he was a kid? He became so stubborn as he had gotten older, putting a strain on their relationship.

Meanwhile, England was happy. Glad that France was being kind to him for once. But he couldn't understand something, why couldn't teenage France be as kind as his adult self? It wasn't fair? He then shifted on France's lap, his head bowed and feeling awkward. He had no idea what to say to France whatsoever. He swallowed nervously, mustering up what little courage he could find.

"I... In the future, are... are you my friend?" England asked shyly. He felt like a much more gentle person than his teenage self. Treating him as if he was precious and taking his feelings into consideration. He didn't tease him, he didn't pick on him and he didn't make him feel uncomfortable. He simply held him and spoiled him, yet never spoke a word.

France blinked in surprise at his response, a small smirk slowly growing on his face. Laughing under his breath, trying hard not to do. Oh how wrong he was, in the future they were way more than that. But given his young age and their developing yet awkward relationship during this time period, he would not yet understand how to flirt or how to recognise it.

England looked up at him in confusion, a look of worry in his eyes. He wondered if France was making fun of him? "France?" he asked curiously. Had he done something wrong or said something strange?

France eventually calmed himself down, wiping the tears from his eyes. "Je suis desole Angleterre" he replied apologetically. It had been so many years he forgot how naive England was as a child. He then smiled fondly at England, stroking his short blonde hair affectionately. Remembering why he had fallen in love with England all those centuries ago. "You are my everything, someone I cannot be without. Mon amour" he explained.

England was stunned, if France felt that way about him why couldn't he just say it? Why play all these damn mind games with him? He then blushed, confused at all these mixed feelings inside of him. Though small France was an ass-hole, he was also sweet, playful and thoughtful. He spent time with him because he wanted to spend time with him, not because he felt obligated to. He even turned down Spain and Prussia just to see him.

Though his teenage self was a pain in the ass, his older self wasn't so bad. "W...will you come see me again?" he asked hopefully. It was nice to have some company and not feel judged. They didn't have to sit and watch clouds, they could do something he wanted too. Though he had no idea what sort of thing grown ups did for fun.

France internally screamed, his emotions on overdrive. This was just too much for him to handle. At what point did England stop being so cute? He smiled fondly and ruffled England's hair. It may have always been messy, but ever so soft to the touch. "Oui" he replied. As they sat together, a bright light soon appeared around them. France finding himself fading, leaving small England behind again.

France woke up wearily to the smell of tea, roses and warmth. Wondering what the hell was going on. How long had he been out? He just remembered sulking and then going back to the past. He then spotted a fresh hot cup of tea by his bedside, a rose and a surprisingly not burned scone on a small plate. Sure it was toasted, but it was still edible which was surprising.

He was touched by this gesture and sat up, these things obviously were made by and left by England. Though it was uncommon for England to do such a thing as France usually insisted on being the romantic one. He then looked up to see England standing nervously in the doorway. He looked relieved and yet embarrassed to see France awake.

Having wanted to see him since what happened between them earlier. He hated leaving things as they were, as his conscience had started to eat away at him slowly. "I... um... I apologize for my actions earlier. I was a git and I regret my behaviour. I... I've been under a lot of pressure lately. I was wrong to take it out on you" he apologised. He had acted very ungentlemanly indeed and he was ashamed of himself.

France was utterly stunned, he had never seen England apologize first before. Let alone admit he was in the wrong too. Having never seen him like this before. Wondering if the dream with small England was the cause. He then held out his arms to England slowly, having realised how much he had missed him. Wondering if the dream with England's child self had been the cause of England's apology. "Je te pardonne Angleterre" he replied.

England softened, glad that France was no longer upset with him. He hated it when they fought and France didn't speak to him, he felt lonely. He then approached France slowly and hugged him back. he had always found comfort in France's arms, feeling safe and loved. Ever since he was a child. "Merci" he replied tenderly.

Bonjour England-Hello England

Je suis desole Angleterre-I'm sorry England

Mon Amour-My lover

Je te pardonne Angleterre-I forgive you England