Hey everyone! Wow, it's been a while since I posted a Hetalia story. You can all thank my good friend Alix the Alien Cyborg because it's her birthday today, which is why I wrote this. Happy birthday, dear, and I hope I did a good job with the yuri; I tried!

And if you for some reason clicked on this because you think I don't know how to spell "dinner" (I'm referring to the title) then let me assure you that I do in fact know how to spell "dinner" (obviously) and the "diner" was a very purposely chosen word based off of the prompt Alix gave me. I'm sorry if that disappoints anyone because they were looking forward to correcting me (and if that is not why you clicked on this, please carry on; I just have the sort of class that you always have to explain things to because they try to put you down a lot *rolls eyes* so it's kind of just automatic reaction)

Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia

Enjoy!

Red vinyl booths crackled as Françoise Bonnefoy and Madeline Williams sat down in the 50's styled American diner. Actually, if Françoise was right - and she usually was about these sorts of things - this diner had actually been build in the 50's.

How outdated.

She scrunched her nose up in distaste and her perfectly colored lips twisted into a scowl as she looked around.

A soft hand slid over hers, turned it over, and started to rub circles into the palm.

Françoise looked over at the blonde sitting across from her and her features relaxed into a smile.

"I'm zorry, my dear, that we ended up 'ere and not a good French reztaurant."

Madeline just smiled softly, leaned over the table, and pecked Françoise on the lips before settling back into her seat, "Please don't worry about it. It's not as if it's the end of the world, after all, and you can always take me to 'a good French reztaurant' next time," she replied with a wink, perfectly imitating Françoise's accent.

Françoise smiled back and used the comfortable silence as an opportunity to look Madeline over.

She was dressed in a floor length strapless gown that started with a pale, pale, almost white, pink and ombréd down to a scarlet red. The neckline was folded over about an inch to reveal the same scarlet red. It fitted her like a glove, highlighting and hugging every curve, before relaxing about mid-thigh to flow to her feet. On her wrist was a black beaded bracelet given to her by her father and a silver floating-bead necklace that reached just past her collar-bone was placed around her neck. Françoise new that under the table, black patent-leather stilettos were playing footsie with her. Her hair was loose - wavy and cascading down her back - and her make-up was simple - mascara behind her glasses, a light flush of blush on her cheekbones, and a natural pink lipstick on her lips, making them look oh-so kissable.

Madeline looked up from where she was playing with a napkin, folding it different ways, and met Françoise's eyes, grinning a little, "What?"

Françoise shook her head, "I am juzt zinking about 'ow beautiful you look tonight."

Madeline blushed, just like Françoise new she would, but strongly said, "Thank you." A smirk grew on Madeline's lips, "You don't look half-bad yourself." The wink after that statement was totally unnecessary but completely fun.

A waiter showed up and handed them each plastic-covered menus, took their drink orders, and promised to be back with them soon.

"But seriously, though, you look gorgeous. What is that dress made out of?" Madeline, glancing over the top of her menu at her girlfriend.

Françoise looked down at her dress. The top part - shaped a little like a tank-top, but with slightly thicker straps - was more structured and made her boobs look amazing. At her waist, the dress became slightly more relaxed so it skimmed over her hips and continued in a slim A-line. The whole thing was a pale blue-grey (leaning more towards the blue) with the exceptions of the straps, neckline, waistline (it was pointed like Tudor Era dresses), and the very bottom, which were trimmed in a light shade of maroon. Paired with it were pale nude heels and a matching clutch. Her jewelry consisted of a gold locket shaped like a heart that used to belong to her mother and gold bangles her grandmother had given her for her 15th birthday, along with gold studs she had had since she was a child. She had pulled her hair back into a complicated but beautiful bun, a few curls framing her face. Along with her usual big eyelashes, she had a warm berry lipstick and shimmery gold eyeshadow on.

"It iz made of zilk."

Madeline looked at Françoise with an uneasy expression, "Is it one of your dad's designs?"

Françoise sucked in a breath quickly before nodding and releasing it.

There was silence for a moment before Françoise continued, "It waz actually one of 'iz lazt dezignz for mére before she...died. 'E wanted me to wear it tonight becauze I look like 'er now."

Madeline reached across the table for Françoise's hand again and brought it up to her lips, kissing the back, the knuckles, and the palm. She laced her fingers with Françoise's and placed her other hand on the back of Françoise's so she was cradling one of Françoise's hands in two of her own. "Well," she started, her eyes meeting Françoise's, "Your mother would be proud. And you truly do look beautiful."

Françoise smiled, albeit not as fully as she usually did, and thanked her.

The waiter came back with their drinks - water for both - and took their orders.

"I really am zorry, by ze way, zat we ended up 'ear."

Madeline snorted and laughed, "You really need to lighten up about that."

Madeline was tucked up against Françoise, her head on her girlfriend's shoulder, and her arms around her, singing along subconsciously to whatever song was playing. Françoise was enjoying having Madeline's shorter frame wrapped up in her arms with her soft voice mixing with the pop star's, simply enjoying the moment in the crowded room.

Françoise broke the semi-silence and whispered, "I love you," pressing a kiss to Madeline's temple.

It went silent near her shoulder and she felt Madeline kiss her neck and smile against it. "I know," she replied, "I love you, too."

Madeline lifted her head up and connected her lips with Françoise's, lifting her hands up to slide over Françoise's jaw as Françoise's fingers tangled in Madeline's hair, their lips moving together in a familiar dance.

When the music changed to a more upbeat song, Madeline playfully nipped Françoise's bottom lip with a smile and drew back to grin at her for a moment before dragging her over to where Gilbert, Roderich, Amelia, Alice, Mathias, Lukas, Emil, Wang, Natalia, Erica, Kiku, and Heracles were already dancing, joining in the fun with a laugh and a few whispered words that Françoise wishing the end of prom would hurry up and come.

I think I used common enough names in that last sentence that you either know or could guess who they are, but for the ones that I had to look up: Emil-Iceland, Wang-Hong Kong, Natalia-Belarus (okay, so I actually did that know that one; I just forgot it); and Erica-Liechtenstein. Let me know if there is someone else you don't know.

Do you have any idea how annoying it is to have to do the "ç" every time you write Françoise's name? It's annoying.

So, I have this head-canon that France really loves new things and always keeps up with the latest trends (well, I mean, Fashion Week does take place in Paris, so it makes sense) and does not necessarily despise everything old, but is very picky about what old/traditional stuff s/he does like (it mostly consists of French things) so that's why she comments on when the diner was built.

And yes, I totally used "ombré" as a verb. That's okay. I speak English. It's what the English-speaking people do: make up things that don't make any sense and say it works and ask why others don't get it. Actually, I learned in AP World History recently that because the Vikings invaded England a lot, their language had a big impact on the English language, which is why while some English words are Latinish in origin, a lot are not, so there's a random interesting fact for you.

And let me explain the whole clothes thing. Unfortunately, no, you will not be able to look those up to better visualise them because I designed them, so I hope I did a good enough job describing them for you to understand what they look like.

Also, this totally took a turn I wasn't expecting it to. Um, I guess a little background (made up on the spot as I was writing) is that Françoise's dad is/was a famous designer and loved to make clothes for Françoise's mother, who died when Françoise was 16 (she's 17 in this story). After her mother died, Françoise's father went into a downward spiral, started drinking, and basically made Françoise care for herself (well, she would have if she didn't have such amazing friends) while she herself was grieving. He's only now starting to get out of that downward spiral, which is why he makes the dress for Françoise. Why do I always create backstories as I'm writing?

Again, have a happy birthday, Alix! Actually, I guess by this point it's almost over, so I hope it was a great one! The rest of you who are reading should go to her profile (I'm not going to post a link because honestly I think - from personal experience - that removing the spaces is way more of a hassle than just copying and pasting the name into that little search bar and choosing "writers" from the list of things and hitting Enter) and leave her a PM with a happy birthday message. And check out some of her stories, too!

It would also be great if you could leave a review; I'm always looking to improve my writing, so constructive criticism is always appreciated. Favorites and follows are great, but reviews are my favorite because then I get to talk to people (I do reply) if they're logged in. And this was my first time ever writing yuri, so I would love to know how I did on that front because I'm always super terrified when I try something new.

Have a great weekend, everyone! Lots of love!

-Katherine