Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia
Summary: Just chibi FrUK fluff really…
Enjoy!
A Beautiful Place
France smiled as he leaned back against the old willow tree. This was a beautiful place; the view of the sparkling blue lake that stretched in front of him, the gentle breeze that ruffled his long, golden hair, and the chirping of birds in the trees around him. He closed his eyes, feeling truly peaceful for once, as he drifted into sleep.
A short, hooded figure climbed up the hill, grumbling quietly as he clutched an old, tattered book to his chest. He froze as his eyes fell on the sleeping France, pulling his hood back to reveal emerald eyes, somewhat unruly blonde hair and large, caterpillar eyebrows. He muttered something that sounded like 'Curse you, bloody frog!' with an unmistakable British accent, before walking around to the other side of the tree. He sat down; he couldn't enjoy the view of the lake but at least the frog wouldn't be aware of his presence, so he could have a bit of peace and quiet for a while. He opened the hard-backed book he held, and began to read; a contented smile soon appearing on the usually serious face.
France opened one eye, rubbing it sleepily as he sat up. His back hurt slightly from slumping against the tree like that, but he didn't plan on falling asleep in the first place. He stood up, brushing the leaves that had fallen into his lap while he was asleep, and yawned as he stretched.
England heard a little sound France had made when yawning, and tried to tuck himself up so that France wouldn't see him. He pulled the cloak back over his head and hugged his knees, pressing his book against his chest protectively again.
France took another look at the beautiful lake in front of him, before sighing and walking back around the tree, when he suddenly tripped over something.
The 'something' grumbled and jumped up, the hood falling back again as England glared at him. France turned around.
"Arthur? What were you doing down there?" His tone was curious, not at all angry about falling on his face.
"Why don't you look where you're going, Frog!" England sneered, avoiding France's question. France raised an eyebrow.
"Desole," He replied sarcastically, "I didn't expect someone to be curled up on the floor like that!"
England frowned in annoyance.
"Why were you sat like that anyway?" France asked again, rephrasing the question slightly.
"None of your bloody business. Go away, wanker." England tried to slyly hide the book behind his back, but France's sharp eyes saw immediately, and before the Brit knew what had happened, France whipped the book out of his hands and was flicking through it casually.
"H-Hey! Give it back!" England said, lunging for the book, but France – damn him for being taller – held the book above his head, smirking as England tried jumping for it.
"I just want to read it, mon cher. Is that so bad?" France asked innocently, finding England's reaction very amusing.
"Yes it is! Now give it back, you damn frog!" England yelled, trying a new tactic of just barrelling into him instead. They both fell to the floor, rolling down the grassy hill with both of them clutching the book still. When they finally stopped rolling, France was sprawled on the floor with England on top of him, the book a little way away from them. England opened his eyes cautiously, before realising their position and blushing furiously, before his attention was caught by the book. He tried to grab it, but something was holding him back. He spun around, to find that France was sat up and holding on to the bottom of his cloak casually, a playful smile on his features.
"Get off, you French-bastard! You'll rip it!" England yelled, wriggling to get free.
"Non, you'll rip it if you continue doing that," France corrected, grabbing England's waist and pulling him into his lap.
"What the hell?!" England blushed even more, struggling to free himself from the Frenchman's grasp, but France wasn't going to give up so easily. He pulled England close to his chest, until he finally stopped struggling, giving up and muttering a few insults under his breath. France chuckled quietly – Arthur could be so cute sometimes. They sat there in silence for a while, gazing out at the lake and secretly enjoying the other's company.
"So," France began quietly, and England stiffened slightly, as if he'd forgotten France was there. "Do you come here often, Angleterre?" They both smiled at the reference they both knew.
"…It's peaceful here. I come here to…be away from things, I guess." Arthur confessed, his gaze returning to the calm, still lake.
Why did I just tell him that? Now I won't get any peace whatsoever!
"It's a very beautiful place, non?" France asked, whispering in England's ear.
"Y-Yes it is…" England replied, shying away slightly with a blush dusted both of his cheeks. France smiled at the Brit's reaction, before once again falling silent.
England let himself relax into France's hold a little, his precious book forgotten as the two sat there, France's arms wrapped around England's waist, and both of them smiling to themselves in the afternoon sun.
Yes, this was indeed a beautiful place…maybe sharing it…wouldn't be so bad after all…
A/N: Hi guys, it's been a while since I had that massive burst of inspiration and wrote a lot of one-shots…I now know that side-effects include: Total lack of inspiration for several weeks afterwards, so this was the best I could come up with. I'm sorry for not updating or uploading new things as often, but reviews honestly do motivate me to write more!
Thanks for reading! ^,^
