So this is a little story about Seychells and England. I wanted to write this becouse, well, there is'nt that much about them out there. I'm sorry if there are any spelling or grammar misstakes, which there probably are, and if the french (which in this only is esc-ce vous which according to google translate means is it you) is wrong, blame google translate. oh, France and Seychells speaks french to eachother, but since I can't write that, it will be in englisch.

this is translated into english while listened to "Hönan Agda" (Agda the hen) ny Cornelis Wreesvijk.

There was someone there, at the end of the hallway. Behind the big, brown door in the end. Seychells went through the hallway. Brown floor, dark brown trim, mustardyellow wallpapper and with a few lamps pretty far away from eachother gave the hallway a gloomy countenance. Where were she? In a hallway, of course, but where?

On the walls hung paintings. Portraits on royalites, who apparently had no knowledge of how to smile, and hardly did the hallway less gloomy. She stopped at the door. Over her shoulder she noticed that most of the hallway had disappeared into darkness. And she could feel it stronger now, there was someone behind the door, who was waiting for her. So she opened the door.

Or, she pushed up the door. The room she entered looked like a bedroom without windows. The walls in the room were purple, on the floor was a big, red carpet and there was only a few furniture. A dresser, a coffe table and a big, wide bed. The bed stood in yhe left corner and took the biggest space in the room and was dressed in purple, orange and red. Above the bed was the only lamp in the room, wich threy subdued light. Seychells closed the door, and most of the light i the room was gone, and went over to the bed. She let her hand slip over the quilt, the pillows and the satin sheets.

Suddenly she felt somones gaze on her and turned around with a smile, that soon disappered. His face was still in the shadow, but she could see his eyes. Green. Not the blue ones she expected. "You" she whispered, and somehow run to the door. England didn't said anything when he took her wrist. She watched him kiss her hand, and he gave her a reassuring smile. He didn't said anything when he led her to the bed and sat her down. She moved further up on the bed, but he stoped her. She watched him as he practically sat over her, one knee on each side of her. Then he kissed her. Her eyes widened and she opened her mouth in surprise. He took the chance and let his tounge explore her mouth as she closed her eyes, letting herself enjoy yhe kiss. He tasted like tea. She could feel his hands on her shoulders, and gently they started traveling down her back. Funny, went throuh her mind. It should be the other way around.

He laid on his back on the bed. She sat on him. She kissed him while she fumbled with the buttons on his shirt. He chuckled, sat up and out his hand around her, playing with her hair. She smiled at him, once he got the chance he would always play with her hair, and continued with the idiotic buttons. Why didn't they do as she wanted?

The clothes were gone. They laid half under the cover, between the pillows. She laid on her back, with him over her. He placed kisses down her neck, his one hand slid over her stomach, the other one playing with her left nipple. She felt safe with him. How could that be? His hand went further and further down, playing, teasing her. As he kissed her right nipple he let a finger slip into her. She gasped and he smiled. His movments were gentel and his smile grew wider at every noise she made. She took his head between her hands and kissed him. Perfect, everything is perfect, she thought as she closed her eyes and his hands disappered and she could feel him move over her. Why did she let him do this? She moaned of pleasure as he thrust into her. Weird, I don't even like you.

Yes, thats right. She don't like him. The warm and happy feelings he made her feel wasn't real, no they were false, not even there. At least not when he wasn't nearby. She clung to him as he moved. She loved him. Yes she did. So much.

She was awakened by sunlight. She mumbled something as she got up. The smell of breakfast was hanging in the air. The dream had left a funny feeling, which she chosed to ignore. She got out of bed, took on a blue dress, brushed he hair and went down to the kitchen.

"Ah, Chelly, good morning~" France greeted her. "So wonderful to see you this lovely day"
Seychells smiled at him. The best thing about living with France a couple of weeks was that he always drowned her in compliments, the hard thing was the alone in bed at night, but she didn't mind the night she didn't.
"Oh, Francis, are you making little me breakfast?"
He smiled at her.
"It is an honer to do that, my dear. Slept well?"
Seychells blusched at the thought of the dream. It was extreamly irritating. She was with France, the man she, like, loved. And he wasn't the man in her dream. France smikred at her, and her blush grew deeper. He knew. Well parts of it, anyway, not even France can know about England.
"So what are you planning for the day?" he asked while he gave her the food. Trying not to think about England. "N-nothing" she answered.

She tried to get the dream out of her head. She really did. In the shower she remembered how she laid naked in bed with him. When she took on jeans and bottoned her red and black shirt she thought of the stupid buttons on his shirt. When she brushed her hair she remembered how he played with it. What ever she did she got reminded of the dream. What ever France did she would think of what England would have done. In the end she hid in her room. France knocked on the door from time to time to get her out, he even brought her food when she didn't same out for lunch or dinner.

In the afternoon she felt sure enough to leave her room, but as soon as she came out, she heard France voice. She knew it was wrong, but couldn't help it when ske sneeked closer to him.
He spook english, which in her case was not a good thing.
"Oh, but she's not coming out."
She peeked around the corner and saw France on the phone.
"But I've already tried that."
In front of him was a mirror and a big vase of roses, and while he was talking he either smelled the roses or looked at his reflection.
"Oh, but who else would I call then, my dear Angelterre"
Seychells heart skiped a beat.
"Of course I don't think that. I only called to have something to do until she comes out."
"Becouse I wanted to, Angelterre. And you don't have anything better to do now, have you?~"
She could feel the ache in her chest. She wanted to hear Englands answers. They where probably irritated, and maybe hurted. And they would surely piss her off, but she still wanted to hear them. Or maybe just his voice.
God I hate him.
"Don't be ridiculous, Angelterre" France chuckled "and I will just call you up again~"
Hate him, hate him, hate him.
"Of course, but don't you?"
I love Francis, I love Francis, I love Francis.
"Oh, but Angelterre, I know exactly what you want"
I need to se him.
"Just you wait, dear Angelterre, so, oh Chelly, esc-ce vous?"
France looked at her, she smiled back at him and quikly disappered into the living room. She could feel his confused gaze on her back.
"Um, Angelterre I think I need to talk to her now"
He sounded worried, then he chuckled.
"Of course you haven't, mon cher, and you probably never will. Bye, Angelterre"

She sat ta the table when he entered the room.
"Chelly, I just spoke to England"
She nod, yes she had noticed.
"How are you?"
"I'm fine"
He looked at her silently. Honestly he didn't know what to do with her now, she never acted like this before, and she seemed fine last night.
"I'm gooing to visit him" she said suddenly.
"Wait, what, who?"
"England"

so, what did you people think?