Title: Floriography
Rating: T for swearing...and a kiss later... ovo
Summary: Someone's been sending England flowers since a week before Valentine's Day. He finally discovers who it is on the Day of Love itself...
A/N: Written for – you guessed it – Valentine's Day! :DD. A study on floriography made me realize how many flowers can be used to show love, not just the red rose, and so, I was inspired to write this fanfic. Excuse any mistakes though... ^^; It's actually really short, so yeah. I can't write long stuff without boring people... TT^TT.
Now, before you guys get sick of me and leave, here's the story. Enjoy! :)
OxO
7th February, 2012
England groaned as he walked to his house, returning from what had been a particularly tiring World Conference Meeting. It had been as usual; Italy screaming about pasta, Greece sleeping, Spain getting called a bastard, Germany slamming the table, and as usual they never got anything important done. France wouldn't stop blabbering about his 'Day of Love' or Valentine's Day as others called it. England had told him that he hated Valentine's Day and America mentioned some 'forever alone' Internet meme thing that he didn't understand at all. Horrendous.
As he neared his doorstep, England blinked. There were three pink camellia stalks on it, tied together with a neat red ribbon, which had been looped through a piece of card. The card was plain and undecorated; a simple piece of white paper.
"Longing for you..." England read out from the card. He rolled his eyes. As if he needed a translation to figure out what pink camellias represented. Someone had forgotten that he was the one that had created flower language in the Victorian era. Nevertheless, he went into his house and put the flowers in a vase sitting conveniently on his coffee table.
Then, grabbing a clean shirt and pants, he went to change into a more comfortable outfit, the flowers completely forgotten and shoved to the back of his mind.
OxO
8th February, 2012
The World Conference had been a total disaster. England grimaced at the thought of it and tried to forget it, sipping his tea. He was sitting at home peacefully, resting on the couch with a cup of tea in his hands. The television was on and the news was blaring out. He closed his eyes, relaxing for a moment when –
RING! RING!
The doorbell rang.
"Oh what the bloody hell do you want, you git?" England grumbled under his breath, dumping his tea on the coffee table – where the vase with the camellias was still standing – and stalked over to the door, flinging it open with a crash. The man outside – who just so happened to be France – grinned and said, "Angleterre, may I ask why there are flowers sticking out of your mailbox?"
England took a peek at his mailbox. Sure enough, three jonquils had been shoved into it, the green stalks sticking out of the small box. He turned his attention back to France and yelled, "What business is it of yours, you bloody wanker? Now get lost!" France laughed, murmured something in French, and then left, walking down the street.
As soon as he had gone out of sight, England approached his mailbox and pulled out the three jonquils. The ribbon and card were on them as well, this time the card read, 'Longing for returned affection.' England felt his face turn a very light shade of red.
Someone wanted his affection? Well, that was new. What happened to 'Splendid Isolation'?
Walking back into the house, he put the jonquils into the vase with the camellias, then sat back down on the couch. The two kinds of flowers looked rather pretty in that vase, he noted. Leaning back and continuing to sip his tea – which had gone cold, he realized that he was actually looking forward to the next day, just to see what kind of flower the mysterious person would send him this time.
OxO
9th February, 2012
"Bloody stupid paperwork!" England grumbled. His boss had made him stay in his office after a tiring day at the World Conference to fill in some paperwork that he had crammed into his drawer and forgotten two weeks ago. He was just going to finish when someone knocked on the door.
"Come in," England called, not even bothering to look up.
Nothing happened; the door didn't swing open, nobody walked in. England looked up, ready to yell at whoever had just pranked him when he noticed what had been slipped through the bottom of the door. Three stalks of red camellias, the red ribbon and the card also tied onto it.
He opened the door and looked out curiously, to see if he could figure out who had been giving him flowers all that time. The corridor was empty except for a few British people walking here and there, along with France and America. The American was trying to get a drink out of the water dispenser.
England frowned. Since when did America willingly drink water? Either way, the person who had been sending him the flowers must have been France, that bloody stupid wanker. How had he not figured it out earlier? France noticed England's head peeping out and said, "Oh, my dear Angleterre, were you staring at my behind? Like what you see?"
The Englishman's face turned a bright red and he yelled, "In your fucking dreams, wanker!" Picking up a thick book from his desk, he shucked it at France and slammed the door shut, grumbling about bloody rude French. He then remembered the camellias and picked them up. The card read, 'A flame in my heart'.
England felt his face heat up again at the sheer sweetness of the words, and then France just had to come in and ruin the moment. "Oh~? Someone is in love with you, my dear Angleterre!" He laughed his signature French laugh and England turned around to slap him in the face, hard.
"Ow! Mon dieu, what was that for? I was just saying that if you have relationship problems you should come to me, after all I am the country of l'amour~!" France whined, grabbing his cheek over-dramatically. England rolled his eyes.
"Get out, France. I have paperwork to you, you bloody frog." He then proceeded to kick France out of the room, ignoring the whining of the perverted Frenchman as he continued his paperwork.
The person continued to send him flowers, each one representing an aspect of love, all the way until Valentine's Day itself...
14th February, 2012
The first thing that England noticed was that his house door was unlocked. "Wha...?" He knew that he had locked it before leaving for an important meeting that morning, so who had unlocked it? All the Nations had keys to each other's houses, for emergency use...so it couldn't have been his boss. He took the gun that he always kept in his jacket, then kicked open the door, expecting the worst.
But what he saw there was not Russia, or any terrifying Nation.
What he saw was his ex-colony, the one that had crushed his heart and left him broken in the mud on that day.
America.
"Dude! Stop pointing that thing at me! It's not like I'm Ivan or anything! Sheesh!" America yelped, hands coming up in front of him instinctively. Sighing in relief, England tucked the gun back into his jacket, then said, "Sit, America. What are you doing in my house anyway?"
America sat down on the couch, then dragged England down with him. "I just wanted to spend Valentine's Day with you, obviously~!" England's face reddened.
"And why the bloody hell would you want to do that?" He demanded. America went silent. England looked back at him and asked, concerned, "You okay? I think that's the longest you've ever been quiet before."
"Yeah...I'm fine..."
America pointed at the vase full of flowers. "Where did you get those?" He asked. It seemed like a random question, so England answered it, telling him about the strange person who had been sending him flowers every day since the 7th of February.
"How many people besides yourself know flower language?"
England started to get suspicious. What was America trying to say?
"Ireland, Wales, Scotland and you... why would you want to know that either?"
America answered, "Scotland, Wales and Ireland all hate you so they can't be the ones that sent it you to, which leaves only me left."
England's eyes widened and he turned around. How had he not noticed that before? France obviously couldn't understand floriography, except for the red rose meaning love. He stared at America in shock. "W-What? Why would you send me flowers anyway?"
The American looked at the ground and mumbled, "Because I love you." England's face filled with red and he grabbed America's face, pulling him into a passionate kiss. When they broke apart, America said, with a smirk on his face, "I do believe I haven't given you my flower for today."
Rummaging around in his bag – which was lying against the couch – America pulled out two thornless roses, one red and one white. "I think you know what that means, Iggy."
As England leaned forward to kiss America once more, he thought, "Well, maybe Valentine's Day isn't so bad after all."
OxO
A/N: Did you like my little Valentine's Day gift to all you FF readers? -3-. This is the first time I've tried writing anything like this, and personally it turned out pretty good! If you guys could just take some extra time to drop a review I'd really appreciate it...or fave it. That would be better. xD. But either way, thanks for reading this. Have a happy Valentine's Day~! 3 3