Francis drank deeply from the glass of wine, as he ate the last of his dinner alone. Alone, it was such an unusual thing for him before, but he found himself doing it more and more of late. Spain had invited him out to drink, but the joyful response had died on his lips. Of course, Romano had made it more than clear that he didn't like it when Spain spent time with Francis. He watched Romano's arms cross over his chest and the scowl creep across his face.

"Oh no, you see, I can't. So many things to do you know?" had been his response. In reality, he'd spent the night alone. Alone, was becoming more and more the norm. He envied Spain; he had someone to come home to after the alcohol had rendered him useless. Unable to stand, he'd call and Lovino would come, grumbling, securely grab the older man by the waist, draping the noodle-like arm over his shoulders, and take him home. The same was true whenever Prussia joined them out in the taverns and pubs. Little Ludi would come and roughly throw his brother over his shoulder, derriere in the air, apologize for any possibly offensive things that were said, and wish everyone a good night. Francis was always the last one to head home on his own.

Francis sighed deeply staring at the ceiling and closing his eyes. At his core, he was a lover. A man meant to, showing permitted, love regardless of race, nationality, age or gender; once Francis found a home for his heart he was committed. The problem at this moment being that his heart had no home, and no amount of sexual innuendo, flirting or faking would change that. He had...someone he wanted...but...

Suddenly something soft landed on his face. Pierre, his first bird, had decided that Francis's eye socket was an acceptable place to roost. The bird pecked his nose insistently and made a noise similar to broken glass in a garbage disposal.

The blonde man daintily picked up the bird and saw that on his leg was a small note.

Francis,

Please, don't spend the night drinking alone again, it makes us worry. You should visit someone. All work and drunken stupors make Francis a dull boy.

~Antonio

Francis balled up the message and threw it across the room. Someone? Someone? Someone like who? Who didn't loathe him for no real reason except that he was warm with everyone? Who wouldn't open the door and greet him with a scowl and 'what do you want?' Who would he not have to force a smile for after a greeting like that?

There was one person who would, but, no, that, he mustn't. He couldn't show up in that place! Yet….Francis got up and walked over to his desk setting down his wine. He riffle through the drawers looking for pen and paper.

"Pierre you will want to rest up because this one is going to be a long journey."

Matthew laid in bed arms wrapped tightly around his small white bear. The sun streamed across his eyes making his already blurred vision worse. He rolled onto his back pushing covers from his body. He'd left the heat on too high. His plan had been to spend the day in bed, but obviously that wasn't going to happen. He'd had a long day, the day before shoveling show out from the front of his house. The muscles in his body still complained and ached from the use and strain. He absentmindedly unbuttoned his sleep shirt letting the air refresh his sweat soaked skin. He rubbed his aching chest and shoulders trying to relieve the tension.

Just as the young man was beginning to drift off to sleep under his own ministrations, he heard a repeated clicking sound near his face. HIs eyes slowly crept open, and he concentrated on the sound. It continued as he blindly looked for his glasses and put them on his face. His arm stretched out pushing the curtains aside and peering out. There among the snow was Pierre almost completely lost in the snow except for the pink ribbon around his leg.

"Francis!" Matthew said, much louder than intended.

He quickly rolled out of bed and ran to the door.

[end section 1]

Author comments: First and foremost, this story was written with one person in mind, Lou. The only reason is made it here to is because Tumblr, as amazing as it is, really didn't feel like the place for it. This is a story for her because she has been repeatedly gracious to me and allowed me to read what she has written. I believe that sharing with a stranger is a difficult thing, and I wanted her to know she wasn't the only one. She has repeatedly raised the quality of my life with her writing.

You can find her writing at: .net/u/2289477/

Secondly, I have very little working knowledge of either Francis or Canada. You see that I have never really given much thought to either Francis or Canada. Francis has always felt like such a gag character—that overly stereotypical Frenchman from kid cartoons. You almost expect him to walk around with a beret and accordion.

Recently though, I noticed on the crawl the argument between Francis being a rapist or not. Then later the head cannon I saw where Francis just states that he want someone to love. I mentally reviewed all the things I "knew were true" and put things together. I say that in quotation marks because I recognize that my "true" things are a cocktail of cannon, fan fiction fannon, and doujinshi fannon.

In the end, I think that Francis is very well put together, maybe even on the verge of classy, and very, very lonely.

Thirdly, I don't own anything. Don't sue me.

Fourthly, this thing is raw. No beta reader, no nothing. So I apologize for any breaks in tone or failures of characterization. If you'd like comment after reading, if not then that's fine to since I'm only really writing for one person.

Very Respectful Regards,

U.E.

11-16-11 P.S. I've gotten some questions about my inconsistent naming of the nation/human name persuasion. It's symbolic guys J Think on it and figure it out—which will be very hard to do in the first chapter, wait a few more, or once it's over ask.