So yeah. Here is just a short thing for Valentine's Day. REALLY SHORT! But I always see people running around loving others but... well read and you'll get it. I wrote this at 12 am so my grammar is probably jacked but still.
HUMAN AND COUNTRY NAMES USED!
I don't own Hetalia.. If I did... well let's not think about that shall we?
Francis loved to love. He would love anyone, in anyway, for any reason. As he sat at his table in his cotton night shirt and blue short, because yes, he does wear clothing to bed, he began to think about what exactly made him fall for so many.
Then there came the only human he'd ever fallen for. A lovely maiden by the name Joan D'Arc. He though she was beautiful though that was a matter of opinion. He saw past her male tendencies: wearing pants, short hair, fighting. But she loved him with all her heart so how could say no to her? How could he possible say no when she asked him to leave her for the night only to find her captured and in an English prison awaiting her death. It was the only time he truly hated England. But that's another story. She was strong until the end. He saw her death and the look in her eyes as she burned still exuded strength and love. And that was it.
Spain was a strange fling. Really he was. Something about that man was enticing. The way his hips swung and he moved his arms; he was a snake charmer. Untamable, passionate, sexy, fun, adventurous, and tough, epically in bed. I really was meant to be a one night stand but it's hard when you find out he lives just the next town over. Feeling developed but after being split apart, they realized they were more friends with benefits.
He'd been with Prussia a few times… but that stemmed from the rare alcohol misuse every now and them. That man could sure turn into a god of "L'amore" when booze was involved. Not that Francis would ever admit that to him.
Canada was probably the "most fitting" relationship he'd ever had. They got along well, were interested in similar things. They fought a lot, though mostly playfully over small evening chores. Matthew was everything a man like Francis could want: Shy, Kind, sweet, optimistic, animal and nature loving, submissive but assertive. He was a little cutie but not for him in the end.
His first love would forever be England. Arthur Kirkland ws a strange man, full of off putting quarks, a cranky disposition, and a strange believe in… fairies. But that man was special to him. They'd actually gotten along well as young children though things are rougher now days. England was always able to brighten up his day with his cute comebacks whenever Francis antagonized him over his cooking, clothing, or inability to play football. There was a charm to him that made Arthur hard to resist. His smile that he rarely flashed but it lights up a room when he did. He always had the perfect Shakespeare quote for any situation. And most importantly, he was always there no matter how bad things got between their counties. He, as a person, not as a nation,has ever turned Francis away. He was the only one he would trust with his weaknesses and heart. He always stuck his nose into everything but it had saved him many times from false love. That was England: the beautiful prince with a sweet heart.
Sipping his coffee, a small sigh escaped his lips. Those were (almost) all good times. They'd actually help shape him into the man we has today. Yes. Love, its pleasure and pain. He had no one at the moment. It was sad but he knew his heart couldn't do anything about that, only wine. But that wasn't something he really needed to resort to today. He knew that as lonely as he was, he always got a few Valentines in the mail from past lovers and acquaintances. But for now he would content himself with waiting and enjoying other aspects of life because how can you love others of you can't love yourself even for just a little while?
So that's it. I always like doing short snip-its out of character's minds.