Hey...this is my first legit Hetalia fanfic I wrote a while ago. It's a short, Frain oneshot. After editing it, it seemed satisfactory. Enjoy.
He said he would come.
He had to come.
A certain Spanish man was standing at the very edge of his borders, eagerly anticipating a visit from his favorite Frenchman.
Antonio paced back and forth, trying not to slip on the slick ice patches in front of him. During this time of the year, the Pyrenees could be a dangerous place. The snowy winter climate allowed for the growth and expansion of glaciers. Snow and ice were even more prevalent.
However, this was the only place the two could meet privately. The bordering countries would have to schedule a full blown meeting if they were to meet up. Politicians and dignitaries would watch their every move, and that was exactly what they had been trying to avoid. If it meant dealing with the cold winter and snow, Antonio and Francis were willing to deal with it just to see each other privately.
As his feet crunched in the snow, he thought of what his lover might be going through. He had heard the weather was getting progressively worse on the other side of the mountain, and Francis hadn't called him in two days.
All he knew was that this was the spot he was told they would meet at. Francis had never let him down before, and he prayed that this wouldn't be the first time he would.
The Spaniard quickly began to shiver. He wasn't used to such cold climate. Visiting the mountains was a rarity for him. He enjoyed it, but only to an extent. It was absolutely unbearable compared to the sunny Barcelona summers he was used to. After finding a small patch of yellowed grass to sit in, he began to survey the land around him.
A partially iced over creek was in the main part of his peripheral vision. He could see the water rushing quickly under the ice. A few fish could be seen through the icy screen.
Enormous pine trees also surrounded the lonely man. Their needles were a beautiful dark green, and the color was only being enhanced by the moonlight that bathed them. He let out a strong sigh.
Many thoughts entered through Antonio's brain as he waited for even longer. What if a bear came? What if someone else found him?
He tried his best to clear those thoughts out of his head and focus on the one thing he wanted right now: Francis.
They hadn't really seen each other in a few months. It had been the longest they had ever been apart, even when they were just friends. Although the separation was grueling, it was completely worth it in the end, even if they only saw each other for only five minutes.
A small, barely audible shuffle of leaves was heard by the Spaniard. He swiftly turned around, expecting a frightening animal or something similar to it. When he saw nothing, he sighed in relief. He was unbelievably thankful nothing had attacked him.
Francis chuckled at the startled Antonio. The way he reacted to even the slightest of noises was quite funny.
He hadn't seen his partner so distressed in ages. He also had not seen him physically in ages.
Just seeing Antonio's emerald eyes sparkle made Francis eager to run out and give him a huge hug. He couldn't wait for the right moment to do so.
France loved everything about his lover, even down to the way his lovely brown hair fell on his face. He couldn't be more perfect.
Spain was looking particularly wonderful tonight, even in his state of fright. The way he shivered, the way he looked around frantically…it made France want to run over to him even more.
But the blonde man had to heavily resist the urge. He had to be as quiet as he possibly could. He didn't want to go too fast and fall in the snow; it would mess up his hair.
A feeling of paranoia fell over Antonio as he turned around once again. He felt like he was being watched by something.
He wasn't quite sure what, and he did not want to go find out what it was.
Ignoring his instinct, the Spaniard stood up from his spot on the grass and headed towards the direction the noise came from. His own feet crunched in the snow and dead leaves just as the noise had a few minutes earlier.
He trudged on into the trees, not seeing or hearing anything.
"Hopefully it ran away…" he mumbled.
Suddenly, a loud thump came from a few feet away. Spain jumped in terror and held onto a tree. He gulped and turned to see where the frightening sound had come from.
The man smiled weakly when he saw the cause of the noise; a puff of snow had simply fallen from the branches of a frail tree.
He sighed happily when he realized that there was nothing to be scared of. A weight seemed to be lifted off of his shoulders as he moved a bit deeper into the forested mountains.
Antonio's voice and footsteps were getting farther away. Knowing he had to be walking in the wrong direction, Francis turned around and began walking aimlessly. He had no idea where he was now, and he could easily become stuck in the forest for days. He knew he could easily yell for Spain, and they could find each other eventually.
The Frenchman sighed in irritation. How was he supposed to find Spain now?
Francis plopped himself down in the snow, not knowing what to do. He could already feel his royal blue coat start to feel soggy underneath him, but he didn't care. He felt like he needed to take a break; maybe Antonio would find him eventually.
Spain threw his cell phone down in anger. He had just tried to call France, only to find out that, like he expected, that there was no cell phone service in the Pyrenees. He ground his boots into the snow until he saw dark brown dirt appear. It wasn't fair!
He looked down at the dirt and realized that his muddy footprint wasn't the only one there.
There was another boot print that was a few feet away from the last one he made. Smiling, he carefully walked over to examine the other one. He knew those prints all too well; they were France's boots. He knew that following them would be the only chance he would have to successfully find his best friend.
He did just that, and followed the prints until he couldn't do it anymore.
By the time Antonio had reached Francis, he was ready to pass out. His hands, although covered by wool mittens, were nearly frostbitten. His nose had turned a bright red color, as did most of his face. It was a far cry from his usual light tan complexion.
When he looked over at his lover, he realized how much better off he was. France was shivering and shaking wildly underneath a pine tree, his body covered in the frigid snow. His clothes appeared to be soaked, and his face was as red as a juicy Spanish tomato. The Frenchman rubbed his hands together for warmth, and then looked up.
"Mon cherie…" he mumbled with a smile. Spain only stared at the other man. He looked horrible.
Francis weakly stood up and brushed off his coat. Finally, the Spanish man snapped out of his trance and ran over to him. Regardless of the cold, he pulled Francis into an embrace.
"I missed you." He said with a thick Spanish accent. Francis gave him a quick, warm smile, which Antonio anxiously returned.
"Let's get out of the cold, oui? I-I'm freezing out here."
Antonio looked at the man inquisitively. "Where are we going to go?" he asked.
Francis pondered this question. There really was nowhere for either of them to go. It was the middle of the mountains, and they were very far off from their original meeting place. The only way back to shelter was if they would be able to find their way back to the original spot.
"I'm completely lost…" he replied. "But I supposed we could walk until we can find something."
Spain smiled brightly and took his lover's hand.
"Si. I needed someone to keep me warm on my way home, anyway."
After sealing his enthusiasm with a kiss, the two held each other closely as they walked off into the snowy night. They were finally together.