Growth
"...ha. Ha. Ha ha ha!"
France looked at him as though he were insane, but England was unable to tell for long, as he now he was doubled up in laughter. "What in the world is your problem, Angleterre?"
It was impossible, frankly (which was a joke of its own). It was sensational. It was... perfect.
Once he had caught his breath, England stood up and looked straight into France's eyes. France understood then, eyes widening slightly.
"Mon petit, my foot!" England barked. "Now what are you going to say, France?"
"Mon petit fleur..."
"Not!" England retorted, jabbing France's chest with his finger. "It doesn't not work when the other person is just as tall as you!"
France stayed quiet for a moment. England knew he had gotten him. At least, until France grinned.
"So if you get on your knees, you might have to dip your head a bit more to be right on–"
He hit France until France was on the ground and therefore shorter than him.
It was not long before France was taller than him again. England fumed for a while, because he had rather enjoyed being right at the same height as the other.
"Now I am taller than you... what do you say?"
"Huh." England shrugged, not looking up from his book.
"What... it can be important when it is you, but not when it is me?"
"Huh."
He hid his grin behind his book. Well, at least he could still bother France. That did not change, no matter how tall (or short) he was.
Frank – straightforward, blunt.
The Franks – a Germanic tribe back in the old days.
Oh, words. English words. You kill me.