Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia
Dear Francis,
I can still remember the first time I saw you. The morning sunlight made your hair shine like gold and your eyes twinkle like a cerulean ocean. You looked so pretty that I was in awe of you at once. Me, a poor contrast, in my old, green cloak with patches of mud on my face, and yet you still commented on my eyes and not my urchin-like appearance.
You were so kind to me; you let me play with your hair and taught me how to make a daisy chain. In return, I stood up for you whenever someone mocked the way you looked, always telling you that no matter what other people thought, I thought you looked beautiful. You always used to hug me if I said that, but I was so young that I didn't realise quite what those words would have meant to you.
As we grew up, you introduced me to your Spanish friend, but I was jealous as he kept stealing your time, and you stopped playing with me. You were my only friend, and it hurt so much that when you did speak to me and ask if I wanted to play, I would yell at you until you left, confused and upset at my reaction. I wasn't willing to share you, and you thought I hated you.
I can still remember the day you truly left. I had grown to the age of an adolescent, and you a handsome young adult. I wanted you to stay, but you insisted there was nothing you could do; you had to leave me. I hated you for that, in fact it was the last thing I screamed at you before you went away, and I knew I had broken your heart, but you leaving had shattered mine.
The next time I saw you was on the battlefield. I had always hoped to see you again, but not when we were enemies. You were so beaten down, and I know that my people had done that to you. I used to think you were strong, but I never knew that I could be stronger until that moment. I gave you a scar that day: a cut deep into your shoulder. But you thanked me for sparing you.
A while after that, I heard rumours of this girl you were allowing to lead your people. I had no idea what would possess you to do such a thing, until I saw the way you looked at her. You were in love with her, and I wasn't going to stand for that. We weren't on good terms then, so I had to make my feelings known another way. My people stood against your foolish girl, to help you see your mistake.
I lit the fire myself, watching the flames blaze, devouring the dry straw and climbing up towards her. I had not expected you to arrive so soon, but I heard your distraught voice, screaming for her. Jeanne, you cried, falling to your knees as her screams drowned out your own. There was nothing you could do, and yet I'll never forget the look of pure hatred on your face when you saw me.
I never wanted you to hate me. Of all the times I had told you I hated you, none were ever true. But in that moment, I knew I had gone too far. I only wanted things to return to how they were before we were given such great responsibilities. You were my world, and I was yours. And then things got in the way, just like that girl. She had stolen your heart, and taken you from me. So I took her.
The years after that were filled with fighting and bloodshed, scars and bruises. I was a pirate, you were more of a trading messenger, and our paths did cross many a time. I gave you more scars to add to your growing collection, but you also gave me one, right across the chest. It is by far my most memorable and treasured, because it was the first scar you ever gave me.
Eventually, time healed your wounds, and you even stopped hating me. Or so I thought. You became gravely ill, and I tried to nurse you back to health, but the cause was something greater than I could ever stop by myself. Your people were ridding France of the monarchy, not knowing how much it was physically harming you. But you never said a word, allowing them to do as they wished.
My son began to visit you more and more as you were recovering, and you used to send me out of the room so you could speak with him. I never pried into those conversations, but perhaps I should have. When you were strong enough, my son declared he wanted his independence, and you helped him by turning against me. I was beaten down and defeated, and I guess you were avenging Jeanne.
I never wanted to trust anyone again, not even letting your son get as close to me as Alfred had. He is a sweet boy, your Matthew, but I couldn't risk opening up to attack again. I shut myself off from everyone, taking on small colonies and working constantly so I didn't see them. I didn't give myself a chance to develop strong bonds with them, and you saw what I was doing.
Yu tried to persuade me to open up to the large family I was creating, but I wouldn't hear of it. I pushed you away, but I could see how much Matthew wanted to escape, for I had taken him from you and was keeping him as my own. I broke down one night, crying in your arms. I just wasn't strong enough anymore. I had fallen, but you offered me your hand and helped me up again.
I relented, allowing some of the colonies their independence and letting you see Matthew again. But I was left with nothing again, nothing except for you. But I still thought you hated me, so I pretended to hate you. Whenever we saw each other, we would jest. Jests turned to bickering. Bickering turned into full on rows and arguments and I often made you run off in tears. I could never apologise.
Many years passed, and our friendship had strained so much that we no longer knew what we were to each other. Then I heard you were under threat of invasion. Germany was trying to march through Belgium to get to you, but you were fighting back. I couldn't just stand by. So I went to help you, with the help of Alfred, us Allies forced back Germany. But then you decided that wasn't enough.
You wanted reparations for the damage Germany caused you, and met in the Palace of Versailles to form a treaty that almost drained Germany of everything he had. You grew impatient when he couldn't meet the first payment, and tried to force it out of him, but it only delayed the payments further and forced Germany into a Depression.
I could see how much you felt you needed to be a strong nation, and I tried to offer comfort by saying I would help you if you ever needed it. You turned on me with a flash of anger, stating you didn't need my help. Your pride had been wounded, and your actions were rash in trying to mend it. Alfred stepped in to help out, but it only caused a large scale fall back for all of us.
It was then that you visited me late at night. It was pouring down outside and you were soaked to the bone. You needed looking after, and so I let you stay the night. I helped you undress, seeing the new scars you had gained from the strain on your country, and held you when you broke down in tears. You were trying to be stronger than you felt, and it was too much for you to bear any longer.
That night, you fell asleep in my arms, clinging to me desperately. No one else knew just how badly the war had affected you, everyone was too focused on their own damage. You had a nightmare about the war and woke in the middle of the night, apologising for disturbing me, but I had never gone to sleep. I comforted you, and you seemed to finally relax and accept my help.
None of us wanted such a war to happen again, so when this Austrian chap began to threaten France again, no one originally stepped up as we didn't want a repeat of last time. We hoped he would just cease his threats, but we finally had to declare war when he was too much to just ignore. You became ill again, but this time I struggled to help you, not in the best of health myself.
I don't know how we managed it, but we won again, and Ludwig, usually so proud and stern, fell to his knees before us and promised it would never happen again. You seemed to soften this time, and accepted his apology, as did the rest of us. But memories of the wars still plagued you at night, and I found you at my door often, too scared to sleep alone.
I can still remember, long after the Second World War, how you told me something I would never forget. You were reading the paper and I was doing my embroidery, which you often teased about, however this time you had not made a single comment about it. You said three words that made me speechless, and I half-wondered if it was a cruel joke.
I never voiced that I returned your feelings, afraid you would use that against me. I should have done, but you were gone after that. You felt a fool for telling me what you felt for me, and stopped visiting me, even at Christmas. It broke my heart to know you had gone because I was too proud to respond the way you always hoped I would.
We have been through so much together, and I know that this is a very late response, but I do hope that those three words you said to me back then are still true today. Because, after all this time, I have finally realised something that I should have acknowledged back when we were young and you let me play with your hair. I can still remember just how long it has taken me to realise:
I love you too.
A/N: Very random but I wanted to write something to lift my spirits a bit. Please read and review, as it means a lot to me~