I do not own Hetalia!
'I should have chosen another country. Why didn't I just go to England?' I thought sadly. I was standing on a sidewalk, hopelessly confused.
Having taken French lessons since I was thirteen, the first thing I wanted to do when I gathered enough money was visit a French-speaking country. Why not choose France?
'There were plenty of reasons why,' I reprimanded myself, 'because I haven't the slightest idea where I am.' The metro I boarded this morning had dropped me off somewhere in Paris. Where in Paris, was the question.
I could read the street signs without a problem─I just needed exact directions. To the Eiffel Tower, that is (very cliché, I know). Using Google Maps might have been an option...if my phone wasn't dead (a malfunction with the hotel outlet).
"Yes, yes," I sighed, "I'm very smart, very prepared."
My last option was to ask someone for help. There was a problem with that. I am a shy, nervous wreck with terrible social skills. What if they can't understand my horrible accent? What if they're really rude and don't answer me? What if they trick me into a human-trafficking ring?
'What if I stand here all day without a clue?' I asked myself. Slowly, but surely, I worked up the courage to approach an elderly woman who was rounding the corner of my sidewalk.
As I got closer to the woman, my courage seemed to be diminishing with every step. The woman's steely blue eyes met mine as I continued to walk up to her.
"E-Excusez-moi, madame. Est-ce que vous─"
Unfortunately, I did not get to finish my sentence. Long story short, the woman whom I thought would be kind and considerate was rather rude and vulgar. She said some things to me that I'd rather not repeat.
Not wanting to let myself appear weak and timid, I gave her one of the meanest looks a wallflower like me could attempt. She scoffed in reply and walked off, throwing her long, pointy noise into the air.
'So much for kind strangers,'
I thought. Lowering my head dejectedly, I stood alone on the sidewalk now. 'I guess my best bet now is to get on the metro again and go back to the hotel. Or perhaps I can find a nice cafe with an outlet and WiFi. Wait, do they even have WiFi and outlets in France?!' (He he, Chloe isn't very smart)
Suddenly, I was lurched forward by something, almost causing me to fly into the street. Clutching my shoulder, I turned around to see a Parisian couple walk past me, snickering to themselves.
I pressed down on my bottom lip with my canine tooth, not hard enough to draw blood, but enough to keep me from calling after them with every foul name I could think of. "They said some Parisians were rude, but come on," I growled, "was that even necessary?" I sighed to myself and rubbed my throbbing temples. "Time to find a cafe."
To my convenience, I was standing right in front of a cafe. 'Finally, something is going right,' I thought.
With enthusiastic but steady steps, I entered the cafe quietly and found a booth to sit at. I spotted something shiny in the corner of my eyes.
'A plugin? Yahoo!' I smiled to myself and pulled my charger out from the black satchel around my torso. Within a few minutes, my iPhone was back on 1%. 'It's a small amount,but at least the phone is on. Here we go, Google Maps!'
My location services were busy determining which part of Paris I was in, so I decided to grab a bite.
'But wait,' I stopped myself from getting up. 'What about my phone?' It needed to charge, but I didn't think leaving it here was a good idea.
While I was pondering what to do with my phone, I felt eyes on the back of my head. Turning slowly, I met the wide blue eyes of a little girl who couldn't have been more than eight. She was kneeling on the seat of her booth, resting her chin on the fused wood that connected our booths.
I smiled warmly. "Salut, petite fille. Pouvez-vous m'aider ?" (Asking a little girl for help? Chloe is pretty desperate)
The little girl nodded, her blonde ringlets bouncing. "Oui, jolie madame," She said happily. After another exchange of words, the little girl agreed to watch my phone...
That is, until a blonde woman that I assumed was her mother came to the booth with a mug of coffee. When she saw her daughter and I talking quietly, she immediately set down the coffee mug she was holding and pulled her daughter away from the back of the seat, then out of the booth completely.
The woman began lecturing the little girl immediately. She talked so quickly that I almost couldn't decipher what she said, but I did catch 'stupide fille américaine'.
Again, I growled. 'What the hell is wrong with these people?!' I thought as they left the cafe. How the woman even knew I was an American escapes me. 'Whatever. I guess I'll just have to cover it up well.'
I set my phone on the floor and pushed it under the booth, the small amount of space making it difficult to see. Unless you went around looking under booths, of course. I slowly got out of my seat.
'That should keep it safe for a minute or two. Now to get some food...' I glanced back at my phone. 'Forget it, I can't leave something that expensive here.' Reluctantly unplugging my barely-charged phone, I slipped it along with my charger back into my satchel.
'A crepe and tea, that sounds good,' I decided on my food before getting to the counter up front. There was young man working the counter, current servicing a woman with short brown hair and a very stylish scarf.
The woman turned to leave with a seemingly pleased face and a mug of coffee. I held back a gulp as the young man's eyes met mine.
"Que puis-je vous sers, mademoiselle ?" The man asked. He wore a plain, but crisp white shirt with 'Gérard' embroidered on the pocket.
"Je voudrais du thé et une crêpe, s'il vous plaît." I ordered swiftly, worrying about my accent here and there. Gérard punched something into the shiny black cash register on the counter.
"Les quatre euros," He said, looking at me expectantly. I nodded and reached into my satchel to grab my wallet.
'One, two...' I froze. 'Oh no.' Apparently, it slipped my mind that I only brought a little over the cost of a metro ticket. The rest of my money was at the hotel.
"Merde," I muttered under my breath.
"Est quelque chose de mal ?" Gérard asked, not looking too concerned but a little annoyed.
"Um, I─"
"Pardon, mademoiselle."
At the sound of the new voice, smooth as silk and perfectly accented, I turned around abruptly. Behind me was a very attractive man, with wavy blond hair, cerulean blue eyes, and a charming smile.
'Wow...' was the first thing my mind could say.
"You ran out of euros?" He asked me. I could only nod, still a bit stunned. He'd affected me so badly that I almost didn't realizing he was speaking English. Did he got that dumb American vibe from me as well?
"Oh, are you the manager of this cafe? You're not going to kick me out, are you? You are, I know it! I'm so sorry, I─"
"It's fine, ma chérie," He gave me a small wink,"I'll take care of it."
My eyes widened. "What?! But we don't even know─"
Again, I was silenced by the fact that the blond Frenchman went on and paid Gérard the four euros. 'Spending money for someone you don't even know? What a nice act.'
"Here you go, mademoiselle," He said, handing me a delicate cup of tea and a crepe wrapped in wax paper. I look the food with a bright smile.
"Merci beaucoup, monsieur~" The words rolled off of my tongue perfectly. "I was so ready to travel this morning, I forgot to bring some food money with me. I didn't know the metro would be so expensive." I turned to go back to my seat, but then scoffed and turned back.
The man spoke before I could. "You were going to ask for my name, no?"
I blinked in surprise. "Yes. How did you know?"
He chuckled. "It was actually a wild guess, but it's good to know I was right. I'm Francis Bonnefoy."
'Ooh, I like your last name!' I wanted to say, but I thought it would be rather strange.
"Nice to meet you, Francis. I'm Chloe Jerome. Would you like to come and sit with me? I could use the company," I suggested, hoping he wouldn't reject my offer.
"Of course," He complied. I led him to the booth I previously sat in. After plugging my phone back in, I began eating. 'Don't smack, slobber, or slurp,' I reprimanded myself.
My eyes lit up after the first bite of my chocolate crepe. After tasting the tea, I found that it was chamomile, and it seemed to compliment the crepe perfectly. "Oh, wow! This is delicious!" It took a whole lot of will power not gobble and gulp down the rest of my food.
Francis chuckled at my enthusiastic words. "I'm glad you like it, ma chérie." I blushed as he referred to me by that term of endearment.
"You don't have to call me that, you know." I muttered shyly.
His gentle smile curved into a grin. "Oh, but it's only natural to refer to a beautiful woman as such~"
My blush darkened. "Y-Yeah, I guess so." 'If you were actually talking to a beautiful woman, that is.'
I took a quiet sip of my tea, diverting my attention to its delicious flavor, before Francis spoke again.
"So you mentioned that you were going to travel today, right?" He asked.
"Oh, yeah. I was going to the Eiffel Tower." I said and rubbed the back of my neck. "It's pretty cliché, I know."
"Non," He said, shaking his head. "It's fine. The Tower is one of our prized attractions." He laughed to himself and added with a smirk, "So of course you wanted to see it."
'He seems very proud of the Tower,' I noted mentally. On the outside, I only nodded with a small smile.
"I suppose if I had gotten some directions, I'd probably would have been there by now." I remarked, and then made a worried noise. "Not that meeting you wasn't fun. You're the first person that's really been nice to me since I've been here."
"People have been rude to you?" Francis asked. He sounded like he couldn't believe anyone had the heart to be rude to me.
"Unfortunately, yes. I mean, it's not like anyone's thrown a brick at me, but I have been cursed at and shoved. But I'm fine, if that's what..." I ended my sentence awkwardly.
He no longer wore a happy, content expression but a darker, downcast look. It looked like he was lost in his emotions, deep in his thoughts. 'Why did he get so upset?' I asked myself. A few moments passed by before he noticed my concerned glance.
"Je suis désolé." He said, not meeting my eyes.
I wanted to ask him what was wrong, but something about his upset look made me banish all thoughts of prying.
"So, um, what were you doing before you came here? Anything interesting?" I tried to take his mind off of the past.
His smile returned, although it was not as deep as before. "Nothing particularly interesting. I was just walking around the city, saying hello to the people that I passed. Indulging in my surroundings."
"I wish I could do that. My surroundings back at home mainly consist of crazy weather, pests, and fast food restaurants." I said, and then smiled to myself. "The fast food was enough to keep my friend Alfred happy. As long as he had a burger, he could stay calm through a tornado."
"He sounds like an interesting character," Francis replied. There was a small glint in his cerulean eyes, a sharper edge to his smile─it was as if he wanted to tell me something, but couldn't or wouldn't for the sake of his amusement.
"Believe me, he is." I ignored his sudden change of expression. Nearly finished with my tea and crepe, I looked back at Francis.
"Did you want something to eat? I haven't been keeping you from eating with my boring little stories, have I?"
"Of course not, Chloe, I'm not hungry. And I find your 'little stories' very entertaining," He reassured me.
"Oh, thanks! My sister says I talk too much. But she doesn't really speak too often, so I usually don't give it much thought," I said.
'Hey, I almost forgot about my phone,' I thought. I reached for my phone and turned it back on. As I did quick checks of my favorite apps, I suddenly felt eyes on my chest.
With a bright red blush, I glanced back at Francis, who seemed to be fascinated with something on my chest. 'Are my boobs really that interesting?'
Clicking my phone off, I turned to face him. Before I got to speak, however, I was interrupted.
"May I ask where you got that scarf, mademoiselle?" He said, looking up into my eyes.
I looked down at the gray-and-black scarf draped around my neck. When I'd told a friend of mine that I was traveling, he'd gotten me that scarf so I could 'show everyone how trendy I was'. I paired the scarf with a white, button-up shirt, a black skirt, stockings, kitten heels, and a bright red blazer.
"It was a gift from my friend Ivan." I replied. Again, he gained a glint in his eyes, though he didn't smile this time. In fact, he seemed a bit scared.
"He sounds nice." Francis commented with a small gulp.
"Yes, but he seems a bit troubled sometimes. He claims that thinking about either one of his sisters makes him sad." I recalled with a slightly downcast tone. "Any other time, he's pretty happy. He gives me sunflowers all the time."
"You're friends are quite intriguing, aren't they?"
"Yeah," I said fondly. "Don't know what I'd do without 'em." My eyes drifted around the room, catching a clock on the wall." It was already past noon. "I think I should go now; it's already past twelve." I stood up and straightened my clothes. Grabbing the messy wax paper and the empty cup, I started to leave the cafe before turning back around in wonder.
"You can keep the cup if you'd like." Francis told me before I could ask. I nodded in thanks.
"Hey, Francis," I started. He looked up into my eyes with a soft hum. "Would you, um, like to meet again some time?"
For a moment, he only gazed back at me, seeming a bit confused. Maybe he was always the one to ask such questions?
Then his confused look melted into one of pure happiness (his cheeks even flushed a little, how cute).
"(Yes, my Lord) Of course, ma chérie."
Le Estant (The end)
Translations below!
E-Excusez-moi, madame. Est-ce que vous─ = E-Excuse me, ma'am. Are you─
Salut, petite fille. Pouvez-vous m'aider ? = Hi, little girl. Can you help me?
Oui, jolie madame = Yes, pretty lady
stupide fille américaine = stupid American girl
Que puis-je vous sers, mademoiselle ? = What can I get you, miss?
Je voudrais du thé et une crêpe, s'il vous plaît = I would like tea and a crepe, please
Les quatre euros = Four euros
Merde = Shit/damn
Est quelque chose de mal ? = Is something wrong?
Pardon, mademoiselle = Excuse me, miss
ma chérie = my darling
Merci beaucoup, monsieur = Thank you very much, mister
Non = No
Je suis désolé = I'm sorry
Oh my, this took me forever to write. I was so worried about this story being cliché and dumb, but eh...
I posted it anyway!
