This is just a little story I wrote. How I come up with ideas like these, not even I will ever know.
I DO NOT OWN HETALIA! I hope you enjoy and please review!
England climbed up the stairs to the top of the Eiffel Tower at midnight just to find his lover, France, waiting for him.
"I missed you so much, my love." France said quietly, brushing the Brit's hair out of his face.
"I missed you too. It's too bad we have to keep our love a secret." England whispered.
France leaned in and kissed England, his tongue going for his lips, wanting to make its way into his mouth. England's lips tasted like scones as they kissed passion- wait! SCONES!
France suddenly pulled back and he had a coughing fit. For some reason, his forehead was bleeding.
"What is it, my love?" England asked.
"Sc-scones..." France managed to say before he passed out, falling over and hitting the floor. At this point he was bloody all over.
England just stood there in shock. "Is my cooking really that bad?" He wondered aloud.