FRUKFRUKFRUKFRUKFRUKFRUKFRUK FRUKFRUKFRUKFRUKFRUKFUKFRUKF RUKFRUKFRUKFRUKFRUKFRUKFRUKF RUKFRUKFRUKFRUKFRUKFRUK

*gasps for air* FRUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUU UUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUU UUUUUUUK! Um, yeah. This is FrUk, if you haven't guessed. Hehehe... I love this pairing, so...yeah... Britain, you have some MAJOR stalkers... *coughcoughincludingmoicoughc ough*

Paris, France

10:42 A.M.

I sit on my couch, sipping wine, red of course, my favorite. I know, you probably think that it's kind of early for wine, but no. The taste soothes my stressed mind, as I gaze out a window. All of this paperwork, an for what? Nothing. My boss is an ass-bouquet, thinking he can just dump all of this paperwork on someone as gorgeous as moi. Such a shame, too. I hoped to visit Angeleterre today...

When had I seen that man's face last?

Probably... two years. Maybe three? Non, it was two years ago, late in December. The 31st, actually...

We were laughing, walking down the street together, hopelessly drunk off of my beautiful French wine.

"Where are we going, bloody wanker? Do you even know?" He breathed in my direction, his breath having the distinct taste of wine traced in it. We had to cling to each other for support, because we would probably fall over if we didn't, face first into the fresh bank of snow. It was a pleasant surprise to find it snowing when we left the bar, it often snowed here. We pushed on, walking further into the darkness.

"I know where- *hic* we are going! To my house~." I slurred. I earned a giggle from him, then a hmpfh.

"Do you remember...where?"

"Of course, Iggy! Paris is my hand, that I look at the back of and-"

"That's the wrong expression, idiot."

We burst into drunken laughter again, clutching onto each other tightly, and stopped walking, knowing that if we fell into the snow, we wouldn't be able to get back up, again.

A couple minutes later, we walked again, babbling on. We finally reached my house, and I fumbled to get the keys out of my pocket, and into the door. I dropped them on the porch,

"Whoops!"

"I'll get it!" We both said as we bent down in sync, bumping our heads, making us laugh more. I grabbed the keys and, finally, got the door open.

"It's cold, Francis."

"Oui. Time for a fire!" I stumbled over to the fireplace, a little less drunk than before. I was able to build a crappy looking, but decent enough, fire without burning myself. I had been drinking this type of wine for a long time, and I knew its effects, unknown to me now in my drunken state, but it effected me less than poor Iggybrows, nonetheless. I was a little surprised to hear him speak my real name, which nobody ever did. To any of us, in fact.

I sat down on my love seat, staring at the flames, as Britain came and sat next to me. He usually ever wanted to get the slightest bit near me, so this only slightly surprised me, in a way, seeing as, yet again I mention, Im drunk enough not to care that much.

"Im still cold, frog. Hug me." He said this as a command, so I scooted closer, filling the gap of a couple inches between us, and wrapped my arms around his small frame. All I could smell was the wine lingering on our breath, thats how close we were.

"Im still not warm." He muttered, then fell asleep in my embrace, his head resting on my shoulder. He started to snore slightly. I smiled, and, was surprisingly able to, picked him up and carried him up the stairs to the second story of my house, placing him in my bed. I giggled and started to take his clothes off, then mine, and I climbed into the bed next to him and pulled the covers up to our shoulders.

I had him turned towards the center of the bed, facing me because I knew that he had liked to sleep on that side. Even in my drunken state I knew that. I was staring at him, how his skin glowed in the moonlight, how he almost looked...angelic.

I watched as his eyes shot open, emerald green beauties, and he stared at me. I stared back at him, and I smiled. I went to turn around and go to sleep, when he shot his arm forward, pulling me back with an immense force, and savagely pushed his lips against mine.

My eyes stayed open in surprise, as I watched his eyebrows furred together, his eyes clenched tight. He then fell asleep again, right in the middle of kissing me, arm still slung around my shoulder, and mouth slightly open as his head lay against my shoulder, drool slightly gliding down his chin.

I knew what happened when we got drunk. We don't have blurriness, we remember what happened, so he will probably be upset in the morning, but...

He was the one who kissed me, right?

I woke up the next morning to find us in the position from last night, his arms wrapped around my bare chest, mine wrapped around his slender, but scarred back. The bed was warm, His mouth was, still, slightly open, and his chest rose up and down as he breathed. Up and down, up and down, up and down, up and down-

His eyes fluttered open, an obvious state of confusion written in them.

"Wha? Where?"

He looked straight into my neck, then into my eyes. I looked down with a blank expression, I hope. I didn't want him to immediately think something happened last night, because he would freak, big time.

But it was already too late for that.

"WHAT THE HELL?!" He pushed me away, quickly getting out of the bed, having nothing on but his boxers...

"Good morning?"

"THE BLOODY HELL AM I DOING IN YOUR HOUSE IN YOUR BED?!"

"Calm down. Think about what happened last night." I handed motioned for him to sit down, making sure to look at his face the whole time, while motioning that he was only in his boxers.

He got the hint, and sat down again, grabbing the blankets and covering up his waist. He got a glassy look in his eyes as he tried to remember what happened. His eyes widened and he started to blush. He looked over at me, and I cocked my head to the head slightly.

"Nothing happened, did it?"

"N-n-no..."

"Look I know your-"

"Im sorry."

"Hmm?"

"I... I... kissed you..." He admitted as his blush darkened. "I... I'm sorry, I should be going."

I smiled.

"It's ok. I mean, we were both drunk off of my fabulous wine. I could've happened to anybody, really."

He just nodded his head, and I got up, noticing his eyes widening as I walked over to the pile of previously discarded clothes from last night and picked out his, and threw them to him.

"There, go ahead and change." I motioned over to the bathroom adjoining to my bedroom and I looked away as he got up and walked into it, closing the door and locking it with a click.

I sighed, and went through my closet, seeking new, fresh, not-smelling-like-I'm-really-drunk clothes. I pulled on some black pants that complemented my long legs, a soft button shirt, a button undone to display my collar bone, and a black tie, loosely tied around my neck. I brushed my gorgeously soft hair and, wanting a change, tied it back in a loose tie. A few locks that were too short to reach the confines of the ties, caressed my face instead.

I heard the bathroom door click again, and saw Britain step out, in his normal uniform, raising his eyes at my outfit. I simply shrugged my shoulders, grinning.

"You look younger, like when you were fighting me for America and Canada..." He trailed off, probably remembering the painful memory. I walked over and put my shoulders on his shoulders, slightly shaking him out of it. He blinked a few times before stepping back into reality. I raised an eyebrow in question, he shrugged it off. We both walked down the stairs, and to the front door.

"Well, I should be heading home. Goodbye, France."

"Goodbye, Britain." He turned to go, but not before I grinned and pulled him back, placing my lips on his in a passionate kiss, letting it last only a few seconds before pulling away and saying,

"Happy New Year, Angeleterre!" I turned around, and closed the door on the red-faced, scowling Brit.

My, that was a long time ago... I don't think I've seen him since, well, except for the World Meetings, but I guess I really haven't talked to him since that night. I remember, we used to be close as children. We may have argued all the time, but I did get to see him every day.

He was wearing that unfashionable, old, worn-out cloak as always, and was were I would always find him. Alone, in that one particular field, where I had first met him, and was staring into the water of the lake. There was a little white rabbit next to him, standing close to him as he continued to stare at the water. I had know him for a while now, and yet, he hadn't grown at all. Physically, he was about two or four years old, where as when I met him, I was about nine. Now, I'm fourteen, and he has yet to grow at all, still the short, little Brit I met. I walked up to him, said person oblivious to my presence, continued to stare at the water. I finally got to him, he was still unaware, when I saw why.

He had fallen asleep. He really was stiff, his back was as straight as a board, and his head bobbed a bit when he breathed in and out.

I smiled, he actually looked cute for once, asleep and not being a total ass. I knelt down and hugged him, waking him up as I did so.

"AHHHHH! LET GO OF ME!"

I held on tighter, so he wouldn't land in the cold waters, and tried to calm him down.

"It's just me! Calm down before you have a heart attack!" He stopped squirming.

"Oh, its just that bloody wanker. What do you want, frog?"

"Just to say hello, is that a problem?"

"Yeah, you do this every day. Are you stalking me?"

"No, its just... nobody pays attention to me, and I get lonely."

"Sure."

"That and, well, I might not see you for a while."

"Why's that?"

"Because my boss is having me take a trip to Spain's house. I won't see you for a while, so I came to say goodbye."

"That's it? Well, goodbye, and good riddance."

"What? You don't care that Im leaving?"

"Nope. You're a bloddy frog. Goodbye."

"Oh, well. Goodbye, then."

I turned and left.

Hmm. I sip my wine again, only to find that the glass Im holding is empty. I sigh, and run my fingers through my hair. I gaze out my window from where Im sitting, and see the Eiffel Tower. Im getting bored, and get up, a forgotten wine glass and bottle left on the table. I walk through my house, looking for some distraction. I walk into a random room, not really thinking about it, and I see I've walked into my music room.

I remember Prussia making fun of Austria, Britain, and me because we were all skilled at playing the same two instruments; violin and piano.

I see my treasured violin, placed next to my gleaming white piano. I haven't played in a while, I wonder if I'm still any good? I lift the cover off, and place my fingers on the ivory keys, taking a seat. I start to play an old tune, my fingers moving without me really thinking about it, recognizing it as one the one Britain had played the first time I had showed him my piano.

"Well? What do you think?"

Britain had the physical body of a nineteen year old, and I had invited him to my house for the weekend, seeing as how he was passing by with his boss, and they had needed a place to stay, so I was basically forced to share my home with them. I wasn't that unhappy with the situation, though. I had decided to show him my new piano, a lovely white one, beautifully crafted.

"Hmm. It's alright."

"Ahh! Its a work of art! And it produces art, too!"

"I know, bloody git! Its a piano."

"Oui! Do you play, mon cher?"

"Don't call me that, and yes, I do. But I'm not that good."

"Oh? Would you like to play a piece for me?"

"I'd rather not, thank you, though."

"Why not? It's just a piano!"

"Yes, well, I'm not in the mood to play."

"Not in the mood, or just can't play at all?"

"WHAT DID YOU SAY?"

"Can you not play at all? Do you suck at playing, like your food sucks at being edible?"

"Bloody frog! I can play the bloody piano just fine!"

"Why don't you prove it?"

"I will then!"

I had easily baited him into it, and I suspect he's terrible at playing. Mostly because of his personality, I don't suspect anything beautiful sounding coming from the brute's playing.

He calmly walks over to the piano, and lifts the lid off of the keys, displaying their shining ivory surfaces. He takes a seat at the little bench and places his fingers on the keys. He plays a few, to see what the tune of the piano is like. I try not to laugh, seeing as how it is obvious he is clueless at playing the piano. He places his fingers on the keys again, lightly, and slowly closes his eyes.

I didn't expect what happened next at all.

His fingers flew into action, flying over the keys, staring at a slow tempo, then moving into a fast one, gliding his hands over the keys as the piano sang a beautiful song, fast and full of feeling. I imagine there is a look of surprise on my face as I watch him, eyes closed, bob up and down a bit due to playing. This continued until the song was over, and he opened his eyes and stood up, looking at me.

I stared at him. That probably had to be one of the most beautiful songs I had ever heard, and, I daresay, he was WAY better than Austria.

"There. I played. Happy?"

"That was...amazing."

"Yeah, well. What's done is done." He gently set the lid back over the keys. and started to walk out of the room.

"Will you play again? Please?"

"Im hungry. If you make me something to eat, frog, perhaps I will."

I smiled and ran to catch up to him, past him, into the kitchen. After he had food, I asked again.

"Will you play again for me?"

"Hmm... maybe a different day..."

I frowned. He was still a stubborn little ass...

Huh. That was so long ago. I finished the song I was playing and got up from my beautiful piano. He had never played the piano for me again. I walked out of my piano room, tired of being in the room. I walked back to the chair I had previously been sitting in, and lay in it. I poured a little bit of wine into the glass, and drank it all in a sip. I sighed, putting the glass sown and looked out the window again.

I didn't even realize when my eyelids started to droop, covering my eyes and whisking me away to, hopefully, blissful dreams.

11:30 A.M

I woke up, and yawned, the bitter taste of wine left in my mouth. My stomach rumbled, so I walked to the kitchen in hope of finding food. Of course, there wasn't any pre-ade, so I just went and made a savory crepe, an easy, five minute, filling meal.

I slowly ate it, feeling numb. I had felt numb all morning, haven't I? Well, I think that should change. But, how...?

I know, I haven't seen him in so long, maybe I'll call him. I mean, I haven't seen him for two years, right? Things must have gone on, changed. Although, I doubt he'll want to see me after that happened that New Year's Eve.

I will still try, though. Maybe he'll agree to see me, at least for a little while.

TA-DA! Ok, nostalgia moments are over... I think. Iggytime!