Hi! Once again, I'm writing a Hetalia fanfic….But I do have a SoulXMaka fanfic in the making….It might take a while…Enough of that, let's get to the Disclaimer, everybody's realistically mean friend, and to the story!
Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia….WHY?! Darn You Cruel World!
(Line)
I love France. I really truly do. I've learned to accept his pervy side and live with it. France is my one and only. He's the only one, except America, that can see me. And I know that no matter what, that won't change. I'll say it again, I love France.
But I can't be so sure about France.
I know that sounds a little harsh, but please understand. I've learned to accept his flirtatious side, but that doesn't mean I've learned love it. I don't want to be the jealous lover, but I can't help but think that France has been acting different from before we started dating. He's more cheery, he's more focused on his work, he spends his money like crazy. And I can't help but think that there's someone else in his life but me. I know I'm crazy, but I want to know he really, truly loves me.
And that means getting to the bottom of his lovers.
I sneaked into France's room on my tiptoes, knowing it only took a loud creak to wake the sleeping god in the room. I continued my stealthy walk towards France's desk with swift glances towards his sleeping body every once in a while. His desk was right next to his bed and made my task all the harder. I'd heard of the magical book from when France and Spain were talking about, completely sober, surprisingly, yesterday. I was standing around the corner, listening to their every word.
"So, write anything new in that stupid little diary?" Spain asked with a chuckle.
"My dear friend, what book are you speaking of?" France asked with a knowing tone.
"Your sex book, France! Come on, any new flings, Rosey boy?!"
"Ah, that is a secret." France chuckled mysteriously.
"What?! We never keep…." And I lost interest.
All I could remember were the words 'France', 'sex book', 'new flings', and 'secret'. Now, my mission was to retrieve the single, most important thing France owned, at least to me. France's sex book. The book he kept and wrote down every lover he's had since 1990, though not that long the book was practically filled. And it's the one book I'm interested in.
I continued silently rummaging through his notes, mostly silly things like my favorite flowers or my favorite color, and wine flavors for specific events, nonsense like that. Finally, my fingers brushed against leather and my heart started racing, my thoughts flying right along with it. What happens if France really does have another lover? What if his past lovers are better than me? What will he do if I look through it? What if he wakes up and yells at me? Why should I worry about this so much? I need to know!
I snatched the book up and plopped on the ground, leaning my back against the bed. I opened the first page, reading his beautiful handwriting.
March 13th
Kiku
March 23rd
Ramano
April 1st
England (what the heck?! Were they drunk?!)
April 14th
Kiku
April 15th
Kiku
April 16th
Kiku
I stopped reading after seeing Kiku's name written three days in a row. I flipped ahead to six weeks before today, to be positive that France wasn't cheating.
September 16th
Matthieu
September 21st
Matthieu
September 22nd
Matthieu
September 27th
Matthieu
October 2nd
Matthieu
October 7th
Matthieu
October 8th
Matthieu
I slapped the book closed. How stupid. I actually thought France was cheating on me. Am I that desperate to find a reason for someone to not love me? Why am I so stupid? I hate myself. I don't deserve France with these types of actions. I stood up and paused, staring at the Greek god in front of me. He's too good. He's too sweet. He's too forgiving. He's too kind. He's too perfect. He really is God in love with a sinner. How unfair for him to love a selfish person like me.
I put the book back and stared at his notes. Some were lists of groceries for a romantic evening, others were reminders for dates he would ask me out on, and a few were actual work. I saw a bill for four million roses sent to his country. Another for three tons of wine and grape seeds to be sent to the vineyards. I chuckled at how engrossed France was in roses and wine. I felt a tug on my arm suddenly, and fell onto the bed. I was soon flipped over to lay on my back and France above me.
I gasped as France began to send butterfly kisses from my temple to my shoulder and back up. His hands grazed over my clothes, obviously expecting there to be skin instead of cloth. I blushed a bright red and tried a futile push to get him off. It was too early in the morning to be doing this.
"F-France! P-Please stop! It-It's to-too early for-this!" The last word was a sharp intake of breath as France ran his fingers up under my sweater.
"Mon cher, have I not told you before the rules of my love? Shall we go over them, or can you still remember?" France tskd, not stopping his delicious torture.
I shuddered and blushed darker in memory of what France did to me when he had me memorize his love rules. I would've died that day from pleasure if I didn't take a bathroom break and called England and America for help. "It is never too early to make love, roses are never declined, for they show the true feelings of your lover, you're always on top, and when we're alone I call you Francis and you call me Matthew."
"Good. Now, Mathieu, shall I continue or do you want to eat and then continue this?" France slowly started lifting my sweater.
"P-Please allow me to eat b-breakfast f-first!" I begged.
"Who~?" France teased seductively, my sweater lying on the floor. The pads of his fingers grazed over my bare torso and I shuddered involuntarily.
"F-Francis!" I gasped. I heard France chuckle and the torture disappeared. I looked up to see France walking towards the bathroom and I spoke up quickly. "I'mkindasortasorryforlookingat yoursexdiaryandthinkingyouwe recheatingonme. Sorry."
"Oh, Mattieu," France stopped, naked and more gorgeous then I've ever seen him, and looked at me with a grin. "Who am I?"
"F-Francis, France." I was utterly confused.
"And what is my country known for?" He asked with a prominent smirk.
"Love, romance, wine, roses, one-night stands, cheating." I listed off. France chuckled and sighed light-heartedly.
"Love was the answer I was looking for. And cheating is not what my country is known for, sometimes." France smiled smoothly. "And what will I do no matter what?"
"Love."
"And who do I love more than life, no matter how stupid or untrusting they are?"
"Kiku?"
France snorted and strode forward. He was soon looming over me. "You! You, silly. My sunshine, my dearest, my love, my rose."
"O-Oh." I stammered.
"Even if you doubt me, I will still love you. Because I know that I can show you how much I love you and I can make you mine once more. I'll love you even when you search through my stuff, or when you break up with me, or when you run off to some unknown area without telling me. I will find you, I will get you back, and I will love you to death. Never think for one second of the day I don't love you or love someone more."
"Sorry." I apologized once again, watching as France loomed closer.
And the kiss we shred was….well, I'll leave that to your imagination.
(Line)
And that's my second Franada and I hope you liked it! I know it's not exactly what you thought it was, but I hope you weren't too disappointed!
-Dreamer