So, this is going to be a normal length fic with FrFem!Uk.
Its rated T from suggestive mentions, straight up cussing and pregnancy in later chapters.
Trigger Warning – I don't think there will be any, but I'll post in an A/N if there is one for a certain chapter.
Also a warning for BAD SWEDEN SPEECH
Pairings include:
FrUK (obviously)
USUK (Friendship)
AmeCan (Friendship)
PruHun (later)
SuFin
Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia, or the title picture.
Alice Kirkland moaned as she snuggled deeper into the covers of her bed. She made a mental note that next New Year's Eve, she wouldn't go out with Amelia and get so drunk after two clubs that she could only remember some snatches of the music. Groggily, she curled up into a ball under the sheets, trying to warm up some more. She made another mental note to remember to actually wear pyjamas to bed in future. She also added to that note to change her bed sheets. She hadn't done it in a month and for some reason they smelt…. Like roses?
Her eyes snapped open and focused on the sheets she was lying under. She was glad she'd worn contacts last night, but they stung a little bit from sleeping in them. But at least she could make out that they weren't her sheets she was lying under. They were a deep, velvety red colour. She was lying, facing the window and not the other side of the bed, which she was thankful for in case somebody was actually lying naked beside her. She was now aware of the deafening quiet snoring from the other side of the bed. Even though her eyes stung like anything, she forced them to keep open to evaluate her surroundings:
The curtains were drawn, and through the thin white fabric that offered little protection from the January temperature, Alice could see snow falling outside. The army green skater skirt she'd been wearing the night before was strewn across the floor; the white blouse was on the top of the chest of drawers along with her underwear. Her bra, however, was hanging from the ceiling fan that was fitted above the bed. The entire room stunk of roses. Alice counted four vases filled with the flowers – and that was just on the side of the room she could see.
Her head throbbed and as she wondered what on earth had happened the previous night, an arm snaked underneath her stomach and pulled her awaking form into another body. Said body sighed and the sound of light snoring filled the room again. Alice tensed in the strangers arms and her stinging, foggy eyes trailed up his body and to his face. He had floppy, blonde, hair, a little bit of stubble on his face and a prominent nose. His mouth was wide and he had a thin brow, that Alice recognized as one she'd seen a lot when she she'd been in Paris the previous summer. Must be a French thing.
Waiting for the snoring to sound more and more heavy as the probably equally hung over man slipped back into his sleep, Alice then wriggled out from his clutches and then hastily changed; she decided to leave her bra on the ceiling fan as a parting gift; Although it wasn't the most lady-like one she could leave, she didn't want to possibly wake up Frenchie by climbing on top of him. She then looked at him lying on the bed as she wrapped her jacket across her body tightly. He was kinda cute, and if their first meeting was in a coffee shop or something and not at 8:17 am on new year's day after a possible drunken one night stand, she would probably want to see him again. Unfortunately, it turned out that fate had chosen the latter for them, and Alice decided just to place one of his roses on the bed in another symbol of goodbye – and a more lady-like one than her bra on a fan. She also took another one from one of the vases and placed it carefully in her bag, as they were the best roses she'd seen in a long time. Slowly and carefully, she creeped down the stairs and let herself out into the chilly, snowy streets and bid farewell to the Frenchman.
"Francis? You Ok-UMPH" A silvery haired German man asked as he slipped into the back seat of a car, only to have his mouth slammed shut by a Hungarian girl's hand. It was two days after Francis'd woken up feeling completely different about everything. Two days since he'd woken up thinking there was a beautiful girl lying next to him, wanting to be as near him as he did to her. He'd even felt her in his arms that morning. But then he woke up again, alone. Francis blinked at them.
"Mon Cher…. I am fine, don't worry…." He muttered.
"We'd just got him to sto-" the driver began, but was cut off by sobbing from the passenger seat "-p crying…"
"Nice going, Gil." The Hungarian snarled, before the Spanish driver sighed.
"Hey, I don't drive all three of you to work every day so you two can bicker in the back seat, so quit it Eliza!" Antonio growled. The turned to address the newcomer. "Francis is-"
"HEEEAAAARRTTTBRRROOOOKKKKEEEENNNNNNNNN!" the Frenchman sobbed.
"He had a one night stand and got too attached." Eliza muttered to Gilbert, who nodded. Antonio started the car again and began to drive towards the next stop – Francis's restaurant. He owned a little bistro not too far from where Antonio and Eliza ran a Day Care. Gilbert would walk from the Day Car to the car garage he worked at, five minutes away. It was almost always Toni who'd drive them to work, as he passed all three of their houses and the Bistro anyway. The others just gave him gas money.
"Really? Was she awesome?" Gilbert asked Francis, only to be punched by the woman sitting next to him.
"Eliza, what did I say?" Antonio glared.
"You said no Bickering!" she defended herself. Antonio shrugged, he'd rather she took it out on the other man than the children at Day Care.
"Have you seen her since?" Gilbert added.
"Non." Francis replied darkly. "Non, but I am certain I will again."
"What make you so certain?"
"Fate."