The next day, Belgium recieved good news. She was going to visit someone by the name of Iceland. She was ecstatic. France and Germany could hear her excitement as she hollered through her house gleefully. She didn't know anything about this Iceland but she was so happy to get out of the house. She learned that her flight was going to leave in a couple of hours and to pack as much as she could. Belgium was a bit frightened. No one gave her time to study their culture or language. What if the person judged her for not knowing anything and assumed she was rude or worse, stupid for not learning their language, at least the ability to say hello or good bye would have been nice.
Bel's body froze in fear and her heart raced, what if they didn't like her at all for being the new Belgium? She found that was usually the case. Bel pictured in her mind what always happened, a warm smile as the nation would walk up to her with a skip in their step and then when they found out it was just a mistake and the Belgium they knew passed, they'd recoil back and wish her a nice day. No one knew what to say or do, so they just brushed her aside, never to look at her again. Belgium's eyes lowered to the floor as her heart sank. She clenched her hands together in front of her. Maybe she was thinking to much into it but either way her boss told her she had to go.
She grabbed all the warm cloths that she could find and stuffed them into a brown, leather suitecase. Bel grabbed everything, including a waffle iron just in case they wanted waffles. Other than cloths and her waffle iron she didn't know what else to bring. Then it hit her. A gift goes a long way, and it was almost Christmas. She opened up her cabnet and pulled out a black and white coffee mug. It looked brand new, but it was in the shape of a fat penguin. Bel let out a disappointing sigh. "Well I guess this would have to do." She spoke to herself feeling frustrated.
Belgium managed to shove some homemade peppermints and choclates in to the mug, filling it up to the rim. Looking at it even more, she wrapped a velvet red ribbon around the neck. It looked like a cheesy Christmas gift that you buy at the store, she sighed in discontent. "I wish I something nicer to give them", as she spoke to herself she felt as if she was being watched. Bel looked around and saw nothing. She shrugged her shoulders and adjusted her blue, cotton dress, made for winter. It was long and had a satin liner that was soft and comfortable to the touch. It was a little dressy for most people but she enjoyed it. The dress held snug to her, high lighting her womanly features, this was one of her favorite dresses as she twirled around in it, allowing the long flowing skirt to fill out around her. She then plopped down on the couch where she saw blonde hair move outside in the window.
She quickly shot up and ran for the door, to see France jump over the white fence. "Bonjour", she spoke loudly. He turned, wearing a white suit, adjusting his pink tie. "Ah, mon cheri, it seems you have caught me." France was a little embarrased but his vioce wasn't rushed, or paniced, it was calm, cool, and collective. He stood there with his hands in his pockets, his blond hair flowing with the breeze, his face had a soft expression, while his eyes stettled gingerly on her delicate form. France paused remembering when a young woman about her age would come to him asking all kinds of questions.
He truly cared for Belgium. France wished there was a way he could have saved her those years ago. He had to stand by and watch everything unfold, even when he heard... He closed his steel blue eyes and opened them again. The snow was falling again, this Belgium, wasn't the same girl he watched grow into a woman. It pulled his heart strings. His chest began to hurt. He leaned his head to side just a bit and watched her ivory face in the snow. It was her face that reminded him of Belgium so much, before everything went sour. Her dark green eyes, were like green looking glass, one could gaze into them and see the stars. Her golden locks of her curls around her face, swayed with the wind, covering her face. She used her soft, pale hand and held back the hair so she could see him. The silence between them told her how much he really missed the old Belgium. France swallowed hard as tear swelled in his eyes. He turned his back to her with a sad expression.
"I apologize, mon cheri." France was more apologizing for crying in front of her than peeking in on her. He began to walk away, staring at the ground. His heart and lungs felt heavy. France began to gasp for air as he tried to fight back the tears. "Wait!" She ran up to the fence. He paused, hoping to hear the same words Belgium always said when she caught him watching. Belgium knew he needed someone to hold or talk to and she wasn't going to miss the opportunity to at least make one friend. "Wait! France!" Her mind went blank the only thing that she could think was how thick the air she was breathing in was and how cold the snow was. She thought of an idea. "Wait right there!"
Belgium quickly ran inside. France turned around to see the young girl dash into the house. He wiped the tears away with his sleeve. She came back with a dark green, knitted scarf, jumping the fence. "Mon ami, please wear this, the next time you choose to spy on me." Her smile was radiant as she put the wooly scarf around his neck. His body stiffened and he froze. France couldn't take his eyes off her. He actually got to hear the very words that made him love Belgium in the first place. "This way, I won't have to worry about you catching a cold." France fell to his knee's hugging her, pulling her to her knees. Belgium felt his full weight land on her shoulders as he wrapped his arms around her neck and shoulders. She found herself helpless against the larger French man. He buried his nose in the crook of her neck and began to sob loudly. France held her closer and tighter.
His mumbles were in french and Belgium patted his back and rubbed it, soothing the larger male. France clenched the back of her dress tightly. He missed her, he wanted her back so bad. He needed someone to keep him company, he kept repeating himself in french. France realized she even smelled like Belgium. That sweet, fresh smell of waffles and chocolates. He began to breath in her very essance. Bel blushed as she felt the heat of his breath under her ear. Before he knew it, he had stopped crying and was rubbing her back instinctively. He blinked as she broke the spell. "I... I.. need to go. I'm visiting Iceland in about a half hour now." He smiled as he stood helping her to her feet and knocking off some of snow off her. "Oui, I'm sorry." He cupped her cheek with his warm hand. Her smile was a little nervous, he knew then, she was his Belgium. "Have fun mon cheri." She nodded and hopped the fence as he waved good bye to her. She turned and waved by back. Excited that she had just made a new friend. This day was turning out to be the best day of her life she thought.