A/N: Okay, so I'm thinking about updating this story weekly, since it might motivate me to write the chapters more frequently. Not sure what day of the week I should update on yet, but I'll definitely let you guys know if I decide to do it this way.

America had only been hanging out with France for a few days before the older nation had to return to his own country. Of course, America wanted to spend more time with France, and couldn't help but abhor the fact that his friend's boss gave him a bunch of work out of the blue. He knew that France would much rather be spending time with him, instead of doing a bunch of work. It was almost as if the world was trying to mock his lonely soul.

Sure, America had a few phone calls with France, but the conversations were always brief. After the phone calls, America had decided, "He must be too busy to talk to me. Maybe at the next meeting we'll be able to have a decent conversation."

America continued to ponder the situation before him, but then, a sudden emptiness began to expand when he concluded, "What if he actually doesn't want to hang out with me anymore?"

Curling up on the couch, America continued to analyze the memories he had from France's visit, and couldn't help but feel ashamed when he recalled the night that he began to cling onto France because he was frightened by the horror movie. As the recollection continued to repeat itself, America cringed as prickles of shame stabbed at his stomach. While his throat began to tighten, America thought, I think France was lying to me when he told me that he didn't think I was a wimp. How could I not see it before? It was obvious that he was annoyed by how ridiculous I was acting.

By the time America was able to find his voice, he turned his gaze towards the ground, and mumbled, "I don't care if England took back what he said, he was still right when he told me that I'm far too annoying to have any friends."

Before any tears could actually escape from his eyes, America slapped his hand against his forehead in order to express his disappointment, and muttered, "What in the world just came over me? Why do I even care about what England said when it's obvious that he didn't mean it? Seriously, I'm so much better than this."

Sure, America was having no problem overcoming whatever angsty thoughts that decided to attack him out of the blue, but none the less, he was bored out his mind when he was all alone. There was no doubt about it, he was in desperate need for the company of another nation. Although, the situation wasn't all that terrible, because by time the next world meeting was held (which coincidentally ended up being at his place again), America was actually somewhat thrilled for once. After all, he would be able to see France again.

Some nations did find it somewhat unusual when they saw that America happened to be the first one to arrive to the meeting, but he didn't care when the other nations would cringe at his sudden 'exaggerated' enthusiasm for the meeting. He was just intent on being able to talk to France after such a while of not seeing him. When France finally did enter the meeting room, America immediately approached him, and greeted, "Hello France, how have you been?"

"Well, I'm definitely feeling relieved, now that all of that work is done." France answered, and then inquired, "How have you been, and also, how come you haven't been calling me that often?"

America averted his eyes away from France, finding a sudden interest in the ground as a note of compunction was undoubtedly present in his response, "Sorry about that, I wasn't trying to be rude. I just thought that you were busy, and wouldn't want me to interrupt you."

"Oh, well that's fine," France nodded in understanding before deciding to change that topic, "By the way, I'll be free of any work for an entire month. Just thought I'd let you know."

"Oh, really?" America questioned, returning his gaze back to France as a spark of excitement lurched in the pits of his stomach, "Does this mean you'll hang out with me some more?"

"Of course," France couldn't help, but smile at the invite, "I'd love to."

While America and France continued to wait for the meeting to begin, they decided to talk about how tedious the past few weeks had been. It wasn't all for the sake of complaining, as some of the nations might have assumed, but they were just enjoying the relief that venting gave them. Especially since they knew that the other was listening. By the time a sudden silence washed over the room as a signal for the beginning of the meeting (also, since no one showed any signs of budging from their seats), America decided to gather up some of his notes, and walk over to the front of the room in order to grab everyone's attention. However, before he was even able to start his presentation, England decided to yell out, "Hey, no one ever said that you could present first, you bloody idiot!"

America shrugged, "No one else seemed ready to present, so I just thought it'd be relevant if I went first."

Other nations, along with England, began to object the explanation. Of course, this was typical for the American. He could just brush it off as soon as the protests (that were now turning into that of harsh insults) died down, and begin his presentation. Yet even though America didn't mind most of the insults, he could help but visibly flinch when he heard one of the nations yell out, "Why don't you just leave this meeting!? It's obvious that no one wants you here! All you ever do is waste everyone's time!"

More and more insults were mercilessly hurled at America, as if the troubled nation wasn't being overwhelmed by perturbation. Sure, it wasn't the first time America was verbally attacked by a group of nations in the middle of a meeting, but France couldn't help but feel himself begin to tremble. It was as if the rush of adrenaline was too much for his body to handle. By the time the edge of his vision became blurry, something inside of France snapped, causing him to yell out, "ENOUGH!"

Every nation in the room turned their gaze towards France at the sudden outburst; stunned to say the least. After giving a few nations an intimidating glare, France continued in a much more quiet voice, but no doubt, the tone was still exceedingly venomous, "Just let Amerique share his presentation, okay?"

After a few more moments of awkward silence, America decided to start his presentation, despite the fact that most of the nations in the room were still staring at a now embarrassed France. As France attempted to ignore the overwhelming gazes of the other nations, he began to ponder, I know that I care for Amerique. A lot. But I still can't believe I just did that. Has my béguin really become something more? France casted a quick glance at America, before concluding his thoughts, Well, isn't this just great? Now I'm going to be in so much pain if he ends up rejecting me.

Even though the meeting only lasted for about an hour (since most of the members of the meeting didn't have much to share), to France, the meeting could've lasted for an entire year, and he still wouldn't have been able to distinguish the difference. Yet, the apprehension that continued to eat at France while he slowly put away the blank paper that was suppose to be used for notes was replaced with that of euphoria when he heard the excited voice of America ask, "Hey France, what do you want to do now?"

Unfortunately, the conversation that had only just begun was immediately interrupted when a certain British accent decided to say, "Excuse me, but I would like to have a word with France for a moment."

After giving him a glance of confusion, France followed England out into the hallway, where no one else was present. After studying France for a moment with a suspicious glare, England questioned, "What's gotten into you lately?"

Dumbstruck by the question, France decided to ask, "What do you mean by that?"

With a sigh, England decided to elaborate, "You haven't been acting annoying or flirty lately, not that that's a bad thing. But what the bloody hell was the sudden outburst for?"

"I was only trying to defend Amerique," France explained, feeling a blush creep onto his face, "everyone would not stop tearing him apart. It was hurting him. I had to do something."

"Still, don't you realize how- wait a minute!"

England couldn't help but scowl when he put two and two together about the situation. After an intimidating silence completed it's job at enhancing the rising, one-sided tensions in the air between the two nation, England accused, "You pervert! You're starting to have feelings for America, aren't you!?"

"No I don't!" France denied, shame beginning to prickle at his skin when he realized how childish his response must have sounded. Yet, kept his composure, and added in a much more mature fashion, "I'm just trying to be a very bien ami to him."

"I don't buy it," England replied, and added with a threatening tone, "Now, if I find out that you've been touching him without his consent, I'll be sure to find a way to kill a nation!"

France watched as England returned to the meeting room, hurt lurking in the depths of his eyes. Of course he was aware of the fact that England didn't exactly trust him, but indirectly being labeled depraved… was that really how England saw him? Did he really just see him as nothing more than a perverted, vile creature? Suddenly, France clenched his hands into tight fists as he muttered, "You know what, I don't care what that black sheep says anymore! If I end up kissing Amerique right in front of him one day, he can deal with it!"

Meanwhile, back in the meeting room, England was walking up to America, who was currently in the process of putting his notes away. By the time he was only about a few feet away from the American, England told him in a quiet voice, "America, I need to tell you something."

Rolling his eyes, America turned to face England and grumbled, "What do you want now?"

England lowered his voice to a whisper, so that no other nation in the room aside from America would be able to hear him, "I think France has strong feelings for you."

America whispered back, "Who doesn't France love?"

"No America," England tried to elaborate, "I think you've become France's love interest. He doesn't seem to be interested in anyone aside from you lately."

"So?"

"Alfred!" England hissed, losing his patience with the young nation, "Doesn't this disturb you at all? Who knows what sick fantasies he's been having about you? I really think you should stop spending so much time with him."

"And I think you're full of it," America retorted, "France knows that we're in a platonic relationship, and I doubt he'd try to sexually assault me. Besides, if he did, I can defend myself."

"America, stop acting like I don't know what I'm talking about," England snapped, "I'm just trying to help you!"

"It'd help if you'd stop acting like you care about me when clearly," America paused for a moment, a flash of hurt making America's glare all the more piercing, "You don't."

England's expression softened as he asked, "What makes you think that I don't care about you?"

"It's so obvious," America stated, "You're trying to stop me from hanging out with one of the only nations that treats me with any respect nowadays. Not only that, but you join in with everyone else when they start ganging up on me."

America paused to turn his gaze away from England, and continued, "Usually I don't care about what others think, but this is just getting ridiculous. Do you even realize what you say to me half of the time?"

"Alfred, you know I don't mean it. Look, I'm really-"

"Just go," America retorted, his voice frighteningly serene, "I don't want to hear it."

When England finally decided to walk away, after standing in silence for a few moments, America returned packing up his notes. This time, instead of expressing much optimism towards the action, he just couldn't help but feel more dejected as time passed. I just don't get it, America began to think as a storm of melancholy continued to deluge his mood, England's just not making any sense lately. He keeps on claiming to care about my well being, but then he'll start treating me like I committed some outrageous crime.

America flinched when he felt a pair of arms pull him into a gentle embrace from behind. After recovering from the shock, he decided to look around for a moment to find that he (aside from whoever was holding him) was alone in the meeting room. Which was none the less, quite alleviating. After all, America was (usually, just usually) the type who easily became embarrassed from receiving affection. Especially in public. America turned around to find that it was France who was hugging him, and asked with a nervous tremor, "France, how come you're hugging like this?"

"Just trying to make sure you're okay cheri," France answered with a smile, as if the whole situation wasn't awkward, "Please, don't be so nerveux."

"I'm fine," America assured, all while forcing his tense muscles to relax. Then he added, "England just ticked me off, that's all."

"I honestly can't blame you for being a little ticked off."

There was a moment of silence before America finally decided to ask, "is it true that you're in love with me?"

"Well of course not," France tried his best to look convincing, "we're just good friends. Don't listen to what Angleterre says, he's just being paranoid."

Wait, France mentally winced, I shouldn't have said that! Who knows? Amerique could have feelings for me, and I might have just broke his heart. Although, that's not very likely. He couldn't help but be relieved when he saw the casual expression on America's face as he stated, "Oh, well that's good. Even though it wouldn't really matter. I just think it would be a bit awkward if we were hanging out together while you had a crush on me."

France nodded his head in (false) agreement, as a troubling thought came to mind, Winning Amerique's heart is a lot harder than I thought it'd be, and I already knew it was going to be difficult.

There was yet another pause in the conversation before America finally said, "By the way, thanks for standing up for me like that when everyone else started picking on me."

France's smile widened as he replied, "It was nothing, really."

"Still, I really appreciate it."

While France continued to gaze into America's deep azure eyes, he inwardly asked, How can anyone hurt this beautiful creature, and not feel ashamed afterwards? He just looks so innocent all of the time, as if he wouldn't even understand why anyone would try to hurt him. France continued to examine America's features, He's kind of like a puppy.

Translation: béguin (I believe that it's French slang for a crush. I'm not entirely sure, well, since I only know the basics of the French language.)

I'll only do translations on a word if it's either not a conjugation, or a word that's not commonly used in fan fictions.

Also, it may seem OOC for France to compare someone to a puppy, but I just couldn't help it.