So, I changed my pen name and whatnot. Well, aside from being overworked with school and everything, I've been on an editing spree for the past few chapters of this poor excuse of a story.. If you feel another chapter should be changed, PM me and I'll add and square it away :D okay, on with the chappie~ (totally forgot the couple that won...months ago.) I'll be honest—because of my laziness, I've decided to just take what I see, and I saw FrancexFem!Canada...those of you who first read it and have been following so very dutifully...don't kill me please ;w; GO! (Edited this because of grammar stuff that was bugging me...and I probably will continue editing because, well, I'm OCD like that.)
_

Francis was a man of many talents, one who could charm any woman who crossed his path and get them into his bed before they even exchanged names. In other words, he was no better than a playboy who had a one track mind of sex, alcohol, and a host of things that should never be named aloud for the sake of censorship.

His life was filled with women who came and went, sensual curves traipsing in and out of his life and out his grand front door, as easily replaced as the first. It was a dirty habit, holding parties and kissing pretty women all night long, waking up to either an empty bed or cries for him to take responsibility. Riches and women, booze and sex, nothing satisfied him. He found himself lying awake, itching for the woman of the night to kiss away his worries and hold him like she meant it, like she cared.

He found himself loathing what he was, what he became. The Francis that outsiders knew was a confident, wealthy, elegant man who lived up to others expectations and more. He was gently encouraging when he was wearing that attitude, and a teasing lover of cat and mouse, prodding at the prey he wanted to play most with and always getting what he wanted. And tonight, tonight was just like every other night, with the moon hanging high and a live quartet gently soothing him into a state of contentment.

The various women at the party thought he wasn't himself, and the men just assured them that maybe he was settling down a bit from his notorious libido, probably trying to keep the gorgeous ladies to themselves. Tonight, in his overly grandiose home with it's luscious gardens and overly decorated rooms, he actually kept his hands to himself, waving off his good friend Alfred when he got a little too curious about the Frenchman's moody attitude. He was just not himself, not as social as he's always been.

Then...he saw her. He never could find out what happened that night, but his heart stopped dead in his chest, swelling and beating so fast he'd thought he had a heart attack. A small, blonde girl who looked so lost and forlorn amongst the huge throngs of people, nervously looking about her like a cornered animal would.

Francis found himself hurrying towards her, his short ponytail swishing against the nape of his neck as he hurried past smiling guests. Finally, after pushing between a very drunk Japanese woman and tipsy Greek, he found himself cupping the shoulder of a positively adorable bespectacled girl, soothing her with his gentle words, coaxing her into conversation and leading her to a seat. He was absolutely enchanted, enraptured in her soft voice and shy violet eyes, lying his hand across hers and showing a genuine curiosity for the first time in a very, very long time.

He discovered her name was Matilda and she was Canadian and loved stuffed animals despite her age. She never drank a drop of alcohol since she was fifteen because she became violently ill after being dared to take a shot of whiskey, has a small white dog who's the spitting image of the sweetest baby polar bear, and doesn't like huge gatherings of people. According to her mumbling, she only came because her stepbrother Alfred (how the two extremely differing people could be related, he couldn't even fathom) begged her to come with him and Anna.

His hand brushed against her cheek, and he knew that she would be the death of him, his downfall. This beautiful, gentle, soft-spoken girl was leaning towards him, and he kissed her with such tender care that he never knew that their lips had met until she pulled away. He was so broken because of that kiss, wanting so much more of her—her voice, her scent, her eyes, he wanted to know everything about her, know what made this beautiful creature any less his.

And slowly but surely, he felt himself falling for her. He courted her, he kissed her until they couldn't breathe, he lived the life of a lover but fell into it's step with a surprisingly unpracticed unsureness.

It started small with his courtship, from taking her to uncomfortably expensive restaurants to small strolls, but he took her to the bakeries she so very much loved, sweet talking her and stealing kisses and crumbs from her lips until she swatted him away with red cheeks. She was so darling, shy and sweet, and melted when he held her. And, mon dieu, he was ashamed to say he almost started drooling when he heard her speak in French. Matilda, he loved saying her name, was his treasure...he never felt this way towards any other woman he'd attempted to stay with. It was new, but so indescribably familiar. It was affection...

He knew immediately—he knew that he was falling in love. A stumble was all it took, but Francis Bonnefoi was in love with the girl named Matilda...and it never felt better.

I finished this very...very late at night. I'm so sorry I couldn't update sooner, my pretties! This has also not been proof read, but I just want to get this update out. Sorry if it seems a little bit rushed!

(EDIT : For all viewers who faithfully stood by this story, I thank you...for new readers and the like, I'm sad to say that this chapter has now been changed to the finale. All votes are closed due to the stories conclusion. I hate ending projects, but I feel nothing more could be done for this story, and I've effectively lost my muse. As for upcoming stories that don't contain any atrocities like this and its grammar butchering, please refer to my profile. If you have any questions, feel free to message me! Thank you for reading and staying with this project until the end—without you all, it would have ended longer ago. Stick around, keep reading, and remain awesome, as always.

Much love,

Dao)