AN: So here is prompt 1! The prompt for this is 'beginning'. I apologise if my French is wrong, and translations will be posted at the end of the chapter~ Feel free to correct my if there are any errors ^^"

Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia.


Francis smiled, watching the subtle movement of Arthur's shoulders as he slept. He reached over, softly moving Arthur's sandy blond hair out of his eyes. He leaned towards him, pressing a gentle kiss to the Brit's forehead. He was so cute when he was asleep. Francis trailed his fingers over Arthur's arm, stopping to hold his hand. His head twisted round, looking at the clock which stood on his bedside table. It was midnight. He grinned, turning back to Arthur.

Today was their anniversary. Their second anniversary. They had been together for two years. 730 days. 104 weeks. 24 months. Two whole years.

Settling under the sheets, he leaned close to Arthur. "Joyeux deuxième anniversaire, mon amour." He closed his eyes, falling asleep to Arthur's steady breathing.


The alarm buzzed loudly at eight am. Arthur's green eyes fluttered open. He blinked twice, adjusting to the bright light streaming through the room. He yawned, stretching.

"Francis" He muttered, rubbing his sleepy eyes. "Alarm." There was no tired grunt, nor the alarm being turned off. Arthur reached his hand out, only to discover an empty bed, still slightly warm from Francis' body. He turned quickly, slamming his hand down on the button on the top of the alarm clock. He scrambled out of bed, quickly walking to the bathroom. He nudged open the door. Nope. No Francis. He ran his hand over his hair, before making his way downstairs. The familiar smell of breakfast wafted through his nose, and he sighed in relief. He padded through to the kitchen, his eyes falling on the handsome Frenchman that he had the honour to call his boyfriend. He stopped in the doorway, taking an opportunity to admire him.

Francis faced the other way, still cooking. His wavy blond hair was in need of a cut, so it swished more than normal in his high ponytail. The sunlight shone through his hair, creating a sort of halo around him. His apron took him in at the waist, emphasising his strong shoulders. The muscles in his forearms twisted as he lifted the frying pan, his shirt sleeves folded up neatly. Speaking of Francis' shirt, he happened to be wearing that Arthur loved on him. It was pale blue, almost lilac, and complimented Francis' eyes perfectly. His black slacks hung elegantly from his hips, draping over the curve of his behind in a way that made Arthur smirk. They weren't that tight, but somehow managed to highlight the gentle muscle in Francis legs.

Francis turned, sensing someone watching him. He caught sight of a freshly awoken Englishman admiring him. He smiled widely, laughing slightly. "And you call me the creep." The sunlight danced across his flawless skin, his pink lips taut against his white, even teeth as he smiled. His azure blue eyes sparkled with happiness, highlighted by his long, black eyelashes. Arthur's lips parted in slight awe. Of course, he knew Francis was stunning, but sometimes it hit him more than others. Especially like this, when Francis wasn't making his perverted comments, or trying to get into bed with him. When he was just... Living. Just smiling, laughing, joking and being the perfect boyfriend. It made him so much more beautiful.

Arthur rolled his eyes in response, crossing the room to sit down at the dining table. He pulled out a chair, turning it so it faced Francis. With a tired stretch, he sat down. "I'm not creeping. Just watching. Why are you up so early?"

Francis shrugged, turning over one of the crêpes he was baking. "No reason... I woke up and thought I'd treat you to breakfast." He smiled his beautiful smile over to Arthur, who blushed slightly in return. Arthur dropped his gaze to the table. Francis laughed softly, reaching over to switch the kettle on. He assumed that Arthur needed tea.

Ten minutes later, they were both seated at the table, eating. Arthur still wasn't dressed, and Francis was admiring how his messy hair made him look far less grumpy.

"Quit staring, frog."

"I'm not staring, just watching~" Francis mimicked Arthur's words from earlier, blowing a kiss at him. Arthur shot him a playful glare, before returning to his food. His left hand lay on the table, his right stabbing his breakfast with a fork. Francis transferred his own fork to his left hand, before walking his fingers over to tangle them in Arthur's.

"Arthur..."

"Francis."

"Do you remember when we first met?"

Arthur's eyes widened, as he smiled slightly. "Of course I do..." Francis grinned in return, looking down at his plate.

"Good~ I'll tell you a secret." Arthur's eyes shot up to meet his. Francis squeezed his hand gently. "It's nothing bad... It's just that the reason I got up so early this morning is because... I spent about 'alf an 'our just thinking about the first time I met you."


It was a crisp autumn day. The country of France was new, and Francis was young. He walked aimlessly through a forest, kicking leaves as he went. His shoulder length blond hair bounced as he walked. He wobbled his way across a fallen tree branch that acted as a bridge over a ditch, his blue tunic flying up slightly. He skipped off into the new part of the forest, humming Alouette as he went. He made his way over to a huge pile of leaves, speeding up, ready to jump into it. He halted at the last second, hearing muttering and giggling. He whipped his head around, his eyes wide with shock. "Qui est là?!" He called, looking around the forest. The muttering stopped, as the pile of leaves in front of him shuffled. Francis stepped back, his breath catching in his chest.

A pair of leaf green eyes appeared between some gaps in the leaves. They blinked, before a small hand pushed the leaves away. A child. It was a child. He looked to be a few years younger than Francis himself. Francis furrowed his brow, looking at him curiously.

A few tense seconds passed, before the child bared his teeth and attempted to growl aggressively. Francis giggled at him, crouching down. "Comment t'appelle tu?" The child looked at him curiously, shrinking back into the leaves. Francis leaned his hand out to touch the child, wanting to reassure him. "Non... Enfant, c'est bon... Je suis sympa!" The child froze, staring out its hand. It raised their chubby fingers, swatting Francis' hand away. Francis sighed, sitting down. He watched the child, until they crawled towards him. The green eyed child sat on the grass in front of him, those intense eyes searching his face. His plump hands reached out, running over his hair. Francis smiled in return as the child played with is hair.

"Engwand." The child said. Francis turned to him, confused.

"Quoi?"

The child pointed to himself, looking into Francis' eyes. "Engwand!"

Francis nodded, understanding. He lay a hand on his chest. "France." He held his hand out to the boy, who stared at it again. After a few seconds, Francis gently took the boy's opposite hand, guiding it to his own. He grasped it softly, shaking it.

"Je suis enchantée de faire votre connaissance, England."


Translations:

Joyeux deuxième anniversaire, mon amour. - Happy second anniversary, my love.
Qui est là? - Who is there?
Comment t'appelle tu? - What is your name?
Non... Enfant, c'est bon... Je suis sympa! - No... Child, it's good... I'm nice!
Quoi? - What?
Je suis enchantée de faire votre connaissance - I am pleased to meet you/ I am delighted to make your acquaintance.