When questioned on the subject on the table at the EU meeting that day in Hungary, France would admit it was probably something trivial. It had not been the discussion itself that sent him over the edge, but rather the fact that a certain someone seated next to him had an opinion on the matter.

"Why do you get a say on the subject? Your opinion on anything to do with the EU is essentially invalid now Angleterre." France ran his hand through his hair, more tired and weary than vindictive.

The recipient of his speech seemed oblivious to this, countering with anger "Like it or not for the next 53 days 6 hours and," he glanced down at his watch, "46 minutes, I am still part of this bloody union. You'll be free of me soon enough, so do shut up with your complaining."

Despite his previous attempt not to address his island neighbour with contempt, France found England's giddy apathy to the situation disturbing. Once again he found himself stooping to the latter's level, "Not soon enough in my mind! It's already been two years, if you are actually leaving then leave. Stop dawdling and wasting my time!"

The Englishman had the audacity to scoff, "Your time? I didn't realise you made up the entirety of the EU. Last time I checked this has little to do with you."

France was losing his patience, "Oh contraire Angleterre, this does concern moi."

"No it doesn't."

"Mais oui, after all I am now able to rub it in your face that I was right all along. Everyone will see that Big Brother France knew best."

England's brows twitched as he crossed his arms in an effort to prevent himself from wrapping them around France's neck. "What are you going off about now frog?"

A smirk, "1963." Had England been actually paying attention he would have realised the smirk was more exaggerated, less authentic than normal. However, he was too caught up in the fight to pay heed to his opponents emotions.

"How does that have anything to do with Brexit? '63 was a great year, both the Beatles and Doctor Who debuted then. Has your poor excuse of a brain finally succumbed to your own stupidity? Your line of reasoning is less comprehensive than normal."

The Frenchman shook his head, giving no further explanation before simply stating another year. "1967"

England's mind raced, attempting to make sense of his neighbours nonsensical ramblings. Suddenly a common denominator clicked.

"Wait a tick! You better not be alluding to what I think you are."

A laugh escaped the French country, "Oh Angleterre I would never attempt to gauge what was going on in that deranged little brain of yours. If you have something to say, spit it out."

As England clenched his teeth in rage, their bubble of tension was popped by a loud "Sì"

Both countries whipped their heads around, suddenly reminded that they were not alone. The perpetrator continued on, "Tell us England, I want to know what Big Brother France is talking about."

Seeing England's annoyance at the way the scene was playing out, France silently thanked Italy for actually paying attention during a meeting for once. Realising he was cornered in the conversation, the island nation gritted his teeth, "Those were the years my application to join the EU were shot down."

"By whom?" France prompted with a grin.

Hate seemed to seep out of England's pores, "You."

"Oui!" He clapped his hands together before turning toward Italy. "You see Big Brother was worried about Europe and knew that the black sheep would contaminate it. I assumed he would soon tire of the Union and leave when it suited him. Et j'avais raison!"

"Wow Big Brother knew best."

Germany rubbed his temple, joining the conversation, "Italy it is not as simple as that."

"No it is not." England spat out. "And you do not get to act the part of the hero France. Evidently you have been spending too much time around America. Besides not two minutes ago you were playing the victim."

As France opened his mouth to retaliate with some cutting rebuke, Germany interceded. "Let's drop the subject for now and proceed with settling what we can while England is still here."

Sending France one last bitter glare, England relented, leaving France stewing in his own sour emotions.

Simply seeing England sitting there nonchalantly taking notes and occasionally reaching for his tea was enough to send a wave of irritation through the Frenchman. It re-enforced the fact that in a mere month and a half, this scene might be one he was no longer privy to. At least significantly less often. Fighting against his annoyance he painted on a smile, thicker than before.

The remainder of the meeting passed without further incident. As Germany called an end to their discussion, the occupants of the room readied themselves to leave. A dim of conversation overtook the chamber, the nations discussing their post meeting plans. France spied Spain waving him over from across the room. While a night spent drinking with his friend did seem tempting, the French nation found he was not in the mood. Shaking his head in refusal, France turned his attention to the nation seated next to him. Said country seemed to be in a hurry to quit the meeting.

Feeling the gaze upon him, England raised his head from the papers he was placing in his briefcase. "What now frog, haven't you said enough already?"

France winced at the pure loathing in his frenemies voice, "I simply wished to ask how things have been going for you."

"So that you can start another fight."

"Non. I am worried about how the turmoil in your country is affecting you personally."

England deadpanned, "Right, and America hates hamburgers."

"Are you really leaving?"

A nod of confirmation. As England once again turned his attention to his papers, France assumed he was putting an end to the conversation. That was until he heard the mumbled downward voice of his neighbour continue on, "May is determined that we will leave by the 29th deal or no deal."

A sigh of frustration escaped the older country, "Do you really want to do that Angleterre? It's not too late to back down, I wouldn't hold it against you. Your people are on the edge about leaving, your own Parliament can't even agree on a deal. What do you want to do?"

"It doesn't matter what I want, I must support what my people decide. That is my duty as a nation."

"Oui je sais, but you do have an opinion, non?"

Casting a glance around the room, England found they were now alone. Still he took the precaution of addressing France in a hushed tone, "An opinion that is mine alone. I am following the example of Her Majesty and remaining completely mum on my personal view of Brexit."

"Well I am not. I believe it is, how would you say, 'a load of rubbish.'"

Papers put away, England slammed his case shut, "Nobody asked your opinion. And why are you so desperate for me to stay when you never wanted me to join in the first place?"

France hesitated, "This 'divorce' means extra work for the rest of the Union. Your theatrics are hindrance to the rest of us."

The nation at the root of the problem grimaced, "I hate that term."

"Quoi?" France arched a brow, confused.

England pushed his chair in before responding, "I hate when Brexit is referred to as a divorce."

"Pourquoi?"

He scratched the back of his head, semi uncomfortable, "A divorce alludes to a marriage, something I would want no part of. Especially seeing as you are a part of the EU."

France ignored the sinking feeling in his chest, "Is it really that bad to rely on others?"

"I am an island, I am better off alone."

"You are a lonely bitter little man, has anyone told you that?"

A glare was his response, "Yes, you several times."

Realising his efforts to pacify England were proving null and void, France berated himself. It seemed that no matter his intentions, all conversations with the island nation ended in an argument. Changing tactics he readdressed the country who was in the process of putting on his coat.

"Do you have plans after this?"

England glanced at him suspiciously, "No, my flight back to London is not until tomorrow afternoon."

"Bon, then you will join me for a few drinks tonight. Hungary told me the location of a pub here that she guarantees you will love."

The English man was weary as his enemies flirtatious side returned, "Why would I do that France, so you can torment me some more?"

"Non, no more arguments. We won't have many other chances to do this before you leave, so humour me."

Against his better judgement, and much to France's joy, England agreed. France wished it was that simple to convince him to stay in the EU as well.

Author's Note: This is sort of a continuation of my 'Brexit' fic I posted a couple years ago. All this Brexit drama is driving me crazy and hence this story.