I know the line. I know it pretty damn well. I know my limit when I was drinking, and no I didn't just ignore it and continue drinking. Usually. I use what I know to my advantage. When I'm with the bastard America, I just drink. Not smart...I know. But it's his own bloody fault! Well...tonight I was out drinking and I ran into that frog France. Somehow we ended up in a bar for a drink. I had to be careful not to cross the line. I got a dram of whiskey, France had his usual wine. We had some pointless conversation, argued a bit as usual. I was only paying enough attention to appear to be normal, my real concentration was on his accent and the way his words formed. I just loved it, but Is tarted purposefully talking more slurred, ordering more whiskey. I had a plan.

"I think you had enough" France suggested. He was falling for my trap, he couldn't see through it.

"Let me have my bloody drink you frog" I slurred the words, he shook his head.

"Who's paying for your drinks anyway?" I muttered a garble of insults and swears.

"Let's go." He payed the bill, and got up. I got and stumbled, falling over, and laughed. France helped me up, I leaned on him for support, muttering a few more unrecognizable words. The way he held me up...it was worth the morning hangover. He had a certain smell to him too... I geuss I had gotten a little off track, cause I tripped over my own feet, falling pulling France down with me. I somehow ended up landing on him, I wrapped my arms around him.

"Angelterre, let go" I nuzzled his neck.

"You don't want this, come on...let's get you home" I heard him mutter something in French. I loosened my grip on him, and after a bit of stumbling around we both got up, and he got me in his car, and started driving me home.

"No...not to my house" I grumbled. France looked at me oddly...I was pushing it, I knew but this time I had an excuse. Besides, he thought I had drank more than I actually had.

"Why not Angelterre?"

"Because...that bloody moron America is there" I knew he could probably only understand some of the words, but I was sure it was enough for him to get the point.

"Too bad for you." He replied. I whined, I didn't want to be stuck with America...I admit, I am arse over tit in love with France. He's not going to know it thought. God, I've never hear the end of it. So, this was my wat of getting what I wanted. By knowing the line.

"Fraaaancisss" I whined. He sighed.

"Fine then. " He turned the car into a different direction, heading towards his house. I knew tomorrow I had to wake up and act brassed.

We finally arrived at his house, he helped me into the house. It odd how kind he was to me when I was 'drunk.'

"You can sleep there." He motioned to the couch. I whined again.

"I dooon't wanna sleep on the couch."

"Be happy I'm letting you over Angleterre. " I clung to him. He said something I could have probably understood if I hadn't been drinking.

"D'accord." He walked towards his room, I was relying on him for support, his arm was wrapped around my waist ensuring I wouldn't fall. His grip wasn't too tight, but it wasn't loose either. It was very comforting. I felt myeslf drifting off to sleep, but I wanted to savour what I could. I rested my head on his shoulder. He smelled so good, and I was so sleepy I could help but fall asleep.

Where was I, and why did I have such a horrid headache? The memories of last night came back to me. I felt France's arm around me. I sighed, it was time to go back to normal. Back to fighting with him. Back to pretending I wasn't in love...

"Angleterre~" Oh fuck. I thought he was asleep. "Do you not notice my arm is around you, or are you enjoying it?"