I do have a knack for rewriting till I'm satisfied, plus the plot is changing a bit, so bear with meh…
Disclaimer: I WILL NEVER own Axis Powers Hetalia since I am not supreme overlord Himaruya Hidekaz...
Soft snores echoed throughout the spacious room as the figure of the bed rolled in his fitful sleep. Clad in nothing but a plain red boxer, he unconsciously snuggled into his dark maroon duvet in search of comforting warmth. The man was lean and muscled, with long luscious honey golden hair in curls, blessed with sharp features of a Frenchman, a small golden stubble decorated his sharp chin, and royal blue eyes hidden behind his closed eyelids.
Francis Roux- Bonneyfoi, a young man of twenty three, who might have the perfect features and used them to his advantage. Originally, when he was younger, he had wore a long tunic that resembles a dress. But times pass, he began to grow a stubble that was not too 'scruffy' he would say. Having an undeniable flare and incredible talent for cooking and baking, he was immediately offered the role of president at the cooking and economics club at high school and needless to say was now a head chef at an iconic restaurant at the heart of the capital. As a grown man, he loves to fool around, dating women with beautiful features and alluring bodies, not really caring for the personality- as Gilbert would say, his flaw- but he like women who was cool but passionate. But he was a bisexual man, though keeping it as a secret most of the time.
It was a nice and breezy dawn that had greeted Ville-d'Avray, a nice and quaint town in Central Northern France, just forty minutes or so away from the world famous and iconic capital, Paris. Graced with surrounding green forest and pristine lakes, it has been a perfect haven for Francis – the sleeping figure - and for his little puppy, a darling little white poodle, that has been given to him by his little cousin, Mathieu for his 23rd birthday bought by his summer allowance.
Mathieu was this little sweet twelve year old kid, with purplish blue eyes that are usually sparkling with kindness and affection and is hidden by round glasses, with slightly long golden hair that slightly bounce when he would laugh. After loosing his parents like Francis had when he was nineteen years old, Francis had took it upon himself to raise Mathieu. Now living together in the suburbs while the capital only kilometers away, it was not that hard on supporting his little cousin.
Loosing parents were one of the hardest things anyone could ever experience. It was a cold September day when it happened, he was at home while his parents had a devastating car crash along with his uncle Dean and aunt Willow – Mathieu's parents - had been with his parents, at the same car trip planning to go to Marseille for business.
Mathieu had been nine years old around that time, he was so innocent and carefree, wondering if when his parents would return. When Francis broke the news, it left the poor child silent, barely speaking for at least a year, always staying by Francis' side, not letting anyone near him. It broke his heart just to see Mathieu to be just a shell of a previously happy and smiling child, so vowed himself of not to hurt Mathieu more. He took it upon himself to raise his little cousin like his own son, even though he is a tad bit too young.
Juillet, his little poodle puppy, was now sleeping fitfully at the corner of his bedroom on a fluff of blankets. Francis, once again, rolled in his sleep, muttering something unintelligible. Snoring lightly, he let out a sigh of content as he revels in peaceful silence save for the occasional chirping of robins nestled out of his window.
Allons enfants de la Patrie,
Le jour de gloire est arrivé!
Contre nous de la tyrannie,
L'étendard sanglant-
Groaning at the disturbance, he reached out for his mobile phone at his bedside table, narrowly missing on smacking the lamp. He felt the phone buzzing and vibrating at the awaiting call, he glanced at the digital alarm clock on his dresser. 3:21 am in red light pierced through the darkness, registering at the ungodly hour, he scowled in annoyance.
"Bonjour, do you know what the hell the tim-"
"You're the one to fucking talk, you retarded bastard!" Francis sighed at the familiar voice.
"Gil, what is it? Do you know what time it is?"
"Oh I know the about the time perfectly." Francis shivered at how cold his best friend's voice is. "But clearly you don't."
"Of course I do. It's 3:23 am in the morning, nonetheless." Francis responded, not clearly seeing where this is going.
"Well, didn't you have something to do at 1:00 am?" Gilbert said icily, and with that the call ended.
The call left Francis bewildered and confused to say the least. 1:00 am? What was he supposed to do at 1:00 am? What date is today anyway?
He glanced at the calendar on his bedside table by the lamp. He felt his blood draining from his face, his cerulean eyes widen in fear.
Oh.
Oh.
Oh shit.
March 15
He shot up, desperately peeling off the bedsheets, stumbling off to his bathroom, taking a quick shower, for God sakes, he didn't even apply his third conditioner. Careful enough not to slip off on the slick marble floor, he quickly brushed off the tangles and hurriedly put on his cologne, he stumbled out of the bath with his thick white towel clinging to his torso. Quickly changing into a wine red dress shirt and a pair of tight beige slacks, inhumanly putting on his dress shoes and his leather belt at the same time.
Practically running to the kitchen downstairs, he quickly put a small and sustainable quantity of dog food on Juillet's bowl, petting the puppy, he quickly scribbled down a note, leaving at the kitchen counter where the maple syrup is, telling Mathieu not to worry, he was just picking up Uncle Gil from the airport and will be back by nine.
Risking a glance at the ticking wall clock above the doorway to the hallway, he felt he was better off being dead. Might as well drive off a fucking cliff.
4:03 am.
An hour has almost pass, since Gil had 'called' him. Surely by now, if he has not terrorized the entire airport, the best scenario would have been a loss of life, particularly his. The last time when he saw Gilbert this mad was when at high school, Francis, Gilbert and Antonio -now at Spain, they have lost contact with each other for some stupid ass reason that Francis can't comprehend- were seniors while Ludwig was a sophomore. Ludwig was bullied for being 'too' muscular and for hanging out with Feliciano and Kiku, who were his exact opposites, in short words, he was bullied for being different.
When Gilbert caught the whiff of the news, he interrogated Feliciano and Kiku to those who exactly bullied him, and its safe to say that those 'unfortunate' ones shown up to school with a black eye, a swollen jaw, and a traumatizing memory of Gilbert standing over them, smiling a cold smile and undaunted rage in his eyes.
Its an understatement that Gilbert loves his brother.
Gilbert has platinum blond hair with his 'stylish' asymmetrical bangs that would sometimes cover his ruby eyes- that would either flash in anger or gleam in undaunted mischief. His prominent feature would be that he was an albino, pale skin tone and silver like tresses would make him stand out from the crowd, towering for over 5'10. One would say that he was arrogant and had a 'world size' ego, had a rough personality that would irritate others, but he knew, Ludwig knew, Antonio knew, Elizaveta knew that he has a mind of a soldier; he is punctual, gifted methodically, very persistent- his daily and sacred diary entries were living proof- he was strong willed and stubborn. But he had a fond of cute things such as his pet bird, Gilbird and the stuffed panda that their former schoolmates and friends Wang Yao and Leon Wang- both were siblings, with Yao older with two years ahead - at a Christmas party exchange.
He had a tough exterior, it was all a facade to hide. Not everyone knew that.
.
Francis literally threw open the door of his car, panicky drove off the driveway and speed off into the night, his life was on the line, it does not help when he lives practically nine miles away from Paris, more importantly the Aéroport de Paris-Charles-de-Gaulle.
After a thirty minute drive full of speeding and wistful thinking of death, which was a record for anyone. Turning a sharp right, narrowly dodging another car, he cursed and continued speeding down the Autoroute du Norde highway. After minutes of tantalizing driving, he finally arrived at the airport.
He knew he was being paranoid, but he could seriously picture the airport would burst into flames, blood curling screams of terror could be heard and at the entrance would be Gilbert looking directly at him, wielding a baton -probably he got it from a dead officer he had killed, deciding to use it on him- looking sadistic as hell. But much to his relief – or distress, he don't know anymore – he found the international airport looking just fine, standing in all of it's glory. There were no horrific screams were heard, there were no blood stained pavement, there were no cold corpses littered around in demonic doing, and more importantly, there is no Gilbert at the entrance staring hard and smiling maniacally.
While looking for a parking area, trying to be slow, as if attempting to delay his supposedly expected and inevitable demise. But then again, luck was not on his side, cars were honking loudly, screaming profanities and death threats for him to get a move on, violently forcing him to hurry up. And of course, unfortunately, there was an empty and free parking space by the fucking entrance. Was this lady luck's some sort of sick revenge for something? Or just to get a laugh out of it.
'Oh well, there's no use of turning back now.' He thought to himself. Praying to God, asking to forgive his sins, and a chance for passage through the divine pearly gates and into heaven. He resigned to himself that 'Well there's no use of turning back now' he thought to himself.
"Au revoir, the beautiful moi." He said out loud to himself while facing the mirror, giving it a little kiss, leaving a fogged mirror at its wake.
Slipping out of his car, he trudged towards the damned entrance slowly. Francis could feel that every step was getting heavier, inhaling air for his nerves to calm down. He looked around the sea of people, full of amazed and excited foreigners and waiting and wondering locals. On his tippy toes, scanning for a mop of eye-catching and familiar snow white hair of his best friend.
"Oh there you are. You're late." A heavily German accented said coldly from behind. Francis gulped, preparing himself for the earful of lecture and profanity. But it was his mistake, he had forgotten, that's all. But he knew of Gilbert's insecurities and fears, it made Gilbert unreasonable.
"Oui, mon ami, I know, please forg-"
"Don't 'mon ami' me, Francis. Do you know how long I waited for your sorry ass to show up?!" Gilbert shouted, his fists were clenched white.
"Gil, I kno-"
"Pray tell me, Francis, how many hours has passed?" Gil asked coldly, gritting his teeth.
"Four hours and more." Francis answered in a small voice.
"Exactly." Gilbert said in a calm and deadly voice. "You better drive me to the nearest La Vie Claire's right now or else."
"Like right now?" Francis asked in a smaller voice, fear coloring his tone.
"NOW!"
Needless to say, Francis hauled the luggage into his awaiting car in record speed fueled by fear of death by Gilbert.
Translations and Notes:
Bonjour- hello (French)
Juillet- July (French) the reason why I named the little puppy 'July' since his (France's) 'birthday' is at July the fourteenth or internationally known as Bastille Day.
Oui, mon ami- yes, my friend (French)
Ville-d'Avray- a town at northern-central France.
La Vie Claire- a convenience store franchise at Paris, France.
Edit: I added their personalities based from HetaWiki, I wanted it as canon as possible