A/N: I used this: ( gallery/#/d5bj72c) to generate this. It's fun, you should try it~!

I don't own Hetalia, sadly.

The soft pitter-patter of rain outside irked you. Not only did it keep your senses more alert than they needed to be, they reminded you of the freedom you didn't have. Your fist curled against the rain-streaked window pane and all you wanted to do was break the glass. But even that didn't work. Everyone had tried it at one point or another, but it had never even cracked. You shook your head, (h/c) hair falling into a comfortable place over one of your eyes.

"..._?"

You turned to meet the sapphire gaze of your French friend. You and Francis had grown close, at least after all the madness happening in the mansion you were trapped in. The same could be said with the other nations.

"Y-Yes?" you asked softly.

"You were spacing out again, mon ami... You cannot let your guard down like that."

You nodded and clutched the hilt of your sword tightly in one hand. It was one of the few things left that kept you sane. "Right."

"Now, we should head back to the room now, oui?" France asked. "The rest of the group is waiting as well."

You gave another nod and followed the blond nation, meeting up with Japan and Russia at the end of the hallway. Then you all headed back to the safe room cautiously, making sure you weren't followed. Japan latched the iron door securely, now out of pure habit.

All the way, you couldn't help but sneak glances at the Frenchman. This whole situation had hardened him, turning him from a hopeless romantic to something a bit more... serious, at least that's how you put it. He wouldn't even touch England anymore. Not that he could, with America with him now almost constantly, including now, to help him maneuver around.

You shrugged it off. There wasn't much time to be so carefree anymore, anyway.

Dinner was called, and almost everyone gathered around the table to grab something to eat. Except for Germany, who was still sitting alongside Italy's bed. You grabbed him a beer and a rice ball and went up to him, offering them.

"Nein... I'm not hungry..." he declined, not even moving his eyes away from Feliciano to look at you. "I'll eat when Italy does." He went back to watching the uneven rise and fall of the Italian's chest underneath the thin sheets.

Prussia whistled softly when you returned to the table. "West never turns down a beer... he really does care about Italy. Though, not as much as Ho-" The albino seemed to catch himself and shook his head. "Nein, that's in the past..."

You raised an eyebrow in curiosity, but said nothing. You didn't like being nosy. Instead, you took your seat between China and France. You could barely eat, your worry about Germany and Italy irking you a bit. Something moving out of the corner of your eye caught your eye and you glanced at it. It was your plate, nudged closer to you by Francis. You glanced up to look at him questioningly.

"Eat, mon ami..." he murmured to you. "It's been a long day."

You shook your head. "I'm not hungry," you replied.

"Eat," he insisted. You sighed and took a bite of your food, then realized how hungry you were and kept eating. The Frenchman watched, amusement dancing in his eyes.

You took a moment to swallow and look back at him, your (e/c) eyes meeting his own shade of blue. "Then you have to eat, too."

Francis chuckled, not bothering to turn back to his own food. "Oui, oui..." he said, though he didn't break the gaze the two of you held. With one hand, he reached up and brushed the hair out of your face, tucking it behind one ear. You felt your cheeks heat up slightly.

A sudden outburst broke the moment. "I can eat my own damn bloody food!" a certain British nation shouted from across the table, standing from the table and storming off in a blind fury. America followed him, worry spread over his face.

You frowned in concern but figured it would be better to stay out of it. You glanced back at France, but he wasn't sitting at his place any longer. Instead he had stood, taking his plate and heading to the kitchen. You shook off your thoughts, figuring it was nothing. You continued eating.

A while later, after another group had left to gather supplies and look for more ways out, or keys to any doors for that matter, you found yourself gazing out the window once again. The amount of rainfall had steadily worsened and a pang of worry struck your heart. As a child, you were terrified of thunderstorms. You managed to calm yourself, thinking one wouldn't happen. They weren't very common, after all.

You were wrong.

A flash of blinding light startled you, and soon enough, thunder was heard and the lights went out. You wondered where the screaming noise was coming from, until you realized that it was your own doing. You managed to calm yourself, at least somewhat, with the unmistakable sound of a match being struck and light filling the room.

"Is everyone alright, aru?" Yao asked, glancing around the room. He lit a nearby candle and preceded to look for more. Everyone present nodded, not looking very phased, except for you. You were still slightly freaked by the storm.

France's gaze was aimed at you. The look his face reflected concern. But you didn't know this, not yet at least, and went to use the bathroom to help get your mind off it. Perhaps you'd take a shower. Soon you realized that even the water wasn't working and you came back out to tell someone. You let China know of the problem.

He nodded. "Xie xie. Maybe it'll come back on when the lights do, aru."

The slamming of a door announced the group's return and you turned to see who it was, exhaling a breath when you saw that Prussia, America, and Japan, no one more or less. Though Alfred looked slightly frazzled, and went to search for England. You could hear complaints of the sudden darkness and that ghosts would be around, aiding the monsters roaming the mansion.

You let out a chuckle despite the situation. Other nations were heading off to bed it seemed, since it was getting rather late as it was. You crawled into your own bed on the floor, in the back corner, and shut your eyes, trying to block out the noise of the storm.

The moment of silence was broken and you were brought out of your thoughts when the shuffling of blankets was heard beside you. You over, peeking out of the covers to see who had taken the bed next to yours. It was Francis.

"Does the storm scare you...?" he asked quietly as thunder rumbled outside. You could do nothing but nod and dive back under the blankets. You heard more shuffling and let out a helpless squeak when you felt your body being pulled into a warm embrace and a blanket being draped over your head. You looked up, meeting Francis's eyes in both a questioning and fearful manner. He only smiled.

This surprised you. It wasn't a forced smile, or even somewhat of a smirk. It held warmth and caring. Something the nation didn't show much anymore.

You were embarrassed, but you sighed contently at the warmth and comfort of the embrace. "Thank you, Francis..."

You felt a chuckle vibrate through his chest. "It is no problem, _"

You found yourself yawning, and drifting to sleep. The last thing you remember that night was the smell of roses and soft lips pressing to your forehead.