Alfred looked down, wiping away tears. "Yeah..." He mumbled, his voice watery. He didn't elaborate, though he wanted to, because his throat had constricted so much he couldn't manage to say anything else without his voice cracking, and he didn't want Francis to hear him in such an embarrassing state. Of course, it was probably too late for that.
"You... You were trying to grab me a rose?" Francis asked, melting as he said it. To know that Alfred had been so thoughtful made his heart flutter, distracting him from his anger.
The younger nation nodded wordlessly. Francis was surprised, he could tell, and he knew it was because he never did anything romantic. He simply wasn't good at it like the elder was, and, of course, that would bring about the destruction of his relationship.
"Mon amour, why didn't you tell me?" Francis asked softly, laying his hand on Alfred's arm.
"Because... You woulda laughed at me... I know I'm shitty at all this romance stuff but every time I even try, it gets all messed up..." He sniffled.
Francis could only sigh and cluck his tongue. "Now, look at what a fool I've made myself," he said sweetly, "and all because I was worried you were bored of me. When it reality, you just have terrible luck!"
Alfred shook his head, pushing his hand off. "D-Don't try to make me feel better! Just get on with it already," he told him angrily.
"What, exactly, am I supposed to be getting on with?" Francis grabbed Alfred by the shoulder, pulling him back.
"Breaking up with me." Alfred stated bitterly.
Francis stopped, his hand slipping off of the taller male. "Is that what you want?" He asked, feeling a pang in his chest as he forced the words out.
"It's what you want! I-I'm sick and tired of you pity dating me! I'm not fucking good enough for you!"
"I'm not pity dating you!"
"Yes you are! How could you not be?! You're so handsome and mature! You're always doing stuff right and you manage to make me happy all the time! I can't do that for you! You deserve someone better!"
"You do make me happy! How could you possibly think I want to leave you?!"
Alfred whipped around, and for a split second, Francis thought Alfred was going to hit him as the taller reached out. Then, he was being pulled forward, Alfred's hands at his waist as he brought his lips to the Frenchman's.
The American kissed him fervently and with obvious passion, holding Francis a few inches off the ground throughout the entire kiss. The entire thing only lasted about thirty seconds, but Francis got more out of those thirty seconds than he had out of this entire argument. Alfred had communicated his feelings best in the way he claimed to be the worst at.
Alfred set Francis down, simply gazing at him with a soft sigh. He loved Francis so much, what would he do without him? He always managed to bring him back down to earth and help him see what was truly important. When Alfred thought he wasn't doing things right, Francis found a way to make him feel like he was the best at it. Alfred certainly felt proud of himself when he saw the way Francis's face was pink, how he looked slightly dizzy, as if he had been completely overwhelmed.
"Dieu, where have you been hiding that?" Francis asked breathily before snatching Alfred's wrists and pushing him back against the wall of the bridal shop, leaning forward to kiss him hotly. He wanted to convey his feelings the way Alfred had; wanted to make him see how passionate he truly was about their relationship, how strongly he believed they had a real connection.
America simply let himself be pushed back, his hands finding Francis' silky blond locks. He ran his hands through them, tugging at the strands whenever he thought Francis was going to stop and pull back as a way to tell him more. They barely parted, only to breathe, and even that seemed like too much time for both of them.
It wasn't long before both of the men were beginning to feel a growing heat between their legs, though Alfred sooner than Francis. He tried not to let it show, but Francis was becoming a bit rougher as well, and Alfred knew his thoughts were wandering into a more lust-ridden state of mind.
Alfred pushed him back a bit, breathing heavily. "F-Franny..."
"My hotel?" Francis asked, beginning to kiss Alfred's neck.
The younger felt his knees weakening and his face heated up. In another moment, he had grabbed the back of the man's shirt for support and began to nod weakly. "Y-Yeah..."
Francis smiled, pulling back for a split second to grab Alfred's hand. "Come, it's just around the block." He informed the American, tone low and a glint in his eye.
They were there in a matter of minutes, perhaps sooner if Francis hadn't wanted to stop every thirty seconds to kiss and nip at any exposed skin he could find on Alfred. He was too handsome for his own good... Every squeak, every shaky breath, every time Alfred tightened his grip on the man... All of this was encouragement to Francis, only wanting him to bite harder, kiss him longer, pull him closer, expose more skin. Anything he could to make Alfred act this way.
Finally, the door was unlocked, and Alfred was lying on the bed with Francis hovering over him. The Frenchman looked down at him, smiling softly at the gorgeous man before him.
And then he thought of what Alfred must be thinking. Was he whimpering because he wanted to stop, and he was just afraid to say so? Perhaps he'd want to go here and no further... Francis blinked down at his lover and almost heaved a sigh, for he knew he could never erase his past promiscuity, and how could Alfred want to be with someone like that?
The Frenchman was about to drop down beside Alfred and claim fatigue when the American grabbed his collar, blinking up at him with electric blue eyes clouded over with lust.
"W-Wait..."