Kiss The Girl ~ Seychelles x France

He sat there in hammock by the sea, Seychelles sitting below him, on the warm sand. The breeze tickled her pigtails which were held by ruby ribbons he bought her when she was a child. She hummed a gentle tune, occasionally saying a word or two in French. Suddenly she stood from her spot on the sandy floor, turning toward him in the hammock. "Francis, come to the water with me!' She giggled, as she pulled him up from his perch on seat.

Seychelles lifted her dress so it would not get wet, the high tide waves lapping at her ankles. France followed her, like he was asked to, laughing as one of the waves wet the trim of her dress. Angelique stepped back laughing, and sat down a just out of reach of the waves. She picked at one of the straps of her dress, easily undoing, then the other. She stood the dress slipping off her form to reveal a bikini on her thin, tanned frame. She threw her dress out of the reach of the waves, and grabbed France's hand, pulling him, fully clothed, into the warm summer waves. She slipped, tumbling under the waves, Francis fumbling to catch her. She resurfaced moments later, salt water in her long brown chocolate hair. Humming a simple tune once more she moved further into the tickle of the waves, pulling Francis once more. He laughed along with her, as waves soaked his clothes even further.

He was silent as he listened to the lapping of the waves and the tune of his former charge. Soon it was more than a hum coming from her lips; the lyrics came out as well. "…And you don't know why but you're dying to try, you wanna kiss the girl…" His eyes went wide in awe as she sung the next verse in her native tongue, and the one after that in French. Angelique turned to him, the waves now high enough to hit against her back, but she stood firm, like a rock. She smiled, and urged him to sing the lyrics, singing in English as he joined in with the French. They actually sounded quite good, the French melding with the English and each complimenting the other.

Francis enjoyed the moments he spent with her, laughing more than he had ever laughed, enjoying and basking in these moments. Although maybe he liked her too much… it was as though those moments kept him alive, those moments were what he lived for. Oh how her lips moved with each note each one full of her melodious voice. She was a sight to behold, lovely and calm, witty and intelligent, placid and firm. She was in his eyes perfection. And that's what bothered him so much. She was innocent and adorable, and she used to belong to him, it just simply did not feel right.

She was standing there looking at him, her singing had stopped not long ago, and she was looking at him, almost expectantly. He looked her square in the eye, her silence unnerving him. "Angelique, dear, what is with the silence?" Her mouth still stayed in a straight line, not conveying her emotions through words.

Then from behind him Francis heard voices, singing the song Angelique had just sung before. "… She don't say a word and she won't say a word, until you kiss the girl…" He shook his head thinking he must be insane. But then he looked at her again, her beauty in the sunlight almost overthrew him. She was to put it simply gorgeous. Damn how he wanted to kiss her, how he wanted to so bad, but something stopped him. She was so innocent, and gentle and pure and good, he just could not. He thought back Joan of Arc, the same as Angelique yet oh so completely different. The same yet different, so pure and so strong, they were both amazing.

Then before he knew what happened she was out of the ocean, walked along the sand back to her house, motioning him to follow, a large fish suddenly appearing in her hands. He had missed his chance, so he would wait again and waffle with the idea.

After dinner they went back out to the beach after dinner, which was fantastic thanks to the supreme quality of the fish. She sat on the hammock this time, legs hitting the sand, spread on either side of the netting. Francis watched her; the sun had set about a minute ago, the moon already on the rise. She looked at him again, Francis didn't like that look. She just sat there, expectantly. "Angelique, what do you want from me my dear?" She gave him a look like he should know which he clearly didn't. He moved toward her, slowly unsure, and ended up sitting next to the petite female nation.

She turned toward him shifting so that they both had a little less room between them. He leaned in slowly, he had done his a million times before, but it was not easy, since this was Angelique. She made a face obviously amused. She dared him to move closer, smirking while he leaned still closer. Then she got fed up, and moved toward him her former mentor, breaking the line between a platonic relationship. Their lips met, something that seemed so natural, so right, so fitting in the revealing light of the moon, by the gentle caress of the waves, and by the smoothing effect of the sand, the contrast of smooth and rough, gentle and calloused being brought into clarity

They moved apart, Angelique still smirking. He looked at her, confused, "what?" She rolled her lovely chocolate eyes, almost mocking him. Angelique motioned at the palm trees, and he followed the movement of her hand. There stood Elizaveta, Lilli and Canada. "Well, sis glad we could help eh?" Mathieu laughed and walked away. Hungary held up her frying pan menacingly and walked behind him, Lilli giggling into her hand. "I knew you wouldn't do it unless you thought you were going insane." Francis looked at her, then out toward the ocean, and back at the lovely girl in front of him. "You don't say a word…" She smiled and finished the line, "And she won't say a word until yo-." she was cut off by France's kiss, which she gladly returned.

A/N: next is Serbia x Russia