There were people he lusted after, little toys that he would string along until he'd had his fill. There were people he would leave waiting for months until he craved them and then left them to wait again. There were countless men and women that he would seduce and then throw out like an old, used rag.
And then there was England
England was special from the moment he'd first laid eyes on him. The way he commanded the room's attention, the look on his face when he was focused on something, all of it made England special. All of itdrove him wild with want, no, need for him. The thing that got him most of all though, that was the tricky part about him. That was what made England so different from his playthings.
"Hello, dear. How's your day been so far?"
"Shove off, you French pansy. I don't have time for all of your shit today." He only smiled with a sigh and turned to leave.
"Fine, be like that, it doesn't matter to me. I'll be back to play again tomorrow, my love." The blonde growled lowly in his direction, only causing him to laugh. He left the room and his smile turned into a wild, determined one. He knew all too well that England didn't like him. Hell, he hated him. Something about him kept France coming back for more though.
And someday, he would have England. Someday, he would win this little game.