"Oh Jarlotte… Tu es tellement belle," He picked off her delicate hand from his body and kissed it, "Tu es merveilleuse," He pecked at her wrist and moved up a little more, "Tu es intelligent," He kissed her elbow, "Tu es gentil," Her shoulder, "Tu es tout pour moi…" Her neck. Finally he graced his lips along her own, only pecking them sweetly before carefully gazing into her sparkling eyes,

"…J'taime."

Charlotte's eyes widened in shock. She couldn't understand much of what he was saying, but she did understand that last part. At least, she hoped she heard him correctly.

"You… love me?" She slowly let escape her lips. France nodded, keeping his eyes locked delicately onto hers with hopeful patience.

"Oui, J'taime tellement." He couldn't move is gaze and she couldn't breathe. He loved her? She… didn't know what she could say now. Letting go of the confessed Frenchman, she pushed both of their cooling bodies up so they sat at a close distance, but Charlotte found that she couldn't match his gaze, turning her face to the side with a very sorrowful expression.

"Francis… If I had known then… I wouldn't have toyed with your feelings and slept with you." She whispered with despair. Why did this have to happen?

France quickly understood what she had meant. She didn't love him back… What he thought was making love was just her getting what she wanted again. He felt so used. But… There was something. Whether she wanted to admit it or not, her actions throughout proved that she didn't feel absolutely nothing for him; she said she wanted to share her first time with him, she said that she wanted to kiss him, he could feel the love coarse through their bodies! Why was she rejecting that? Did he do something wrong? His widened, saddened gaze diverted to the floor as the awkward silence spilt in, leaving them both unable to speak; there was nothing to say. After what felt like eternity, Charlotte finally mastered up a sentence.

"I'm going to clear the spare room for you… Maybe it's best we go to bed." She stood up and headed for the living room door, not once looking back at him until she reached the frame. As she turned and faced him, he leaned over the edge of the seat and held his face in both hands, trying to not show the weakened side of him as his broken heart beat was wounded painfully. Charlotte wanted to hold him, tell him that she was sorry and that everything was going to be alright… But she knew that he would just turn her away and give her a cold shoulder. She wanted to cry. How would that mend their relationship? She flat out rejected him. She hurt him. Only earlier that day did France tell her that he never wanted to see her hurt; the same was vise versa. If only she had told him that. Breaking her glance away from his distraughted frame, she walked out of the awkward atmosphere and closed the door.

"It's America all over again…" She whispered, slowly letting one tear escape.

France couldn't believe that she had rejected him. He was so sure by how she looked at him, how she treated him, how she kissed him and embraced him that she had loved him in return. His senses were never wrong! He was the country of love, and he could see love a mile away; was he really just blinded by fantasy rather than reality? He turned to where she had stood only to watch her close the door behind her.

"It's America all over again…" America? What did America have to do with this? It was true that the younger nation had once not too long ago spoken to him about Charlotte… warning him about her emotions.

"Don't let your feelings mix up," He ordered, gazing harshly into the Frenchman. It wasn't like him to act so seriously; why couldn't he tell him just why he was saying this about her?

"You'll soon realise that she doesn't see things the same way as lovers do."

Now he understood what Alfred had meant. She didn't see sex as love, but as pleasure. He mixed up his own feelings between this and convinced himself that Charlotte wanted him for love instead of pleasure, and now he was paying the price for not heeding Alfred's warning. Just what had happened between them two to make Alfred feel this way?

The next morning, Charlotte woke up to find herself feeling incredibly lonely; this was the first time she had France over and he didn't sneak into her bed during the night. The calmly placed silken sheets remained untouched on one side, almost devastated that they had no one to caress that night. Of all the terrible things that could have happened… Charlotte was half tempted to tell him that she did love him, but if he ever found out that she had lied to him, it would be even worse than now; he'd never forgive her. She needed to do something. There was no way she was just going to let things break apart! She didn't know what love felt like, but there was something in her heart that told her that she didn't want to lose him and she didn't want their friendship to dampen, weaken and then destroy. She needed to explain her inability to love; maybe then he could find a way to understand and forgive her. The very last thing she could ever want was for Francis to hate her. Just the thought hurt her stomach and heart like a knife stabbing her repeatedly.

"Please don't hate me." She whispered, placing her arm over her eyes in hope to stop any of her tears spilling, "I don't want you to ever hate me!" Her breathing became rapid and deep as the fresh liquid tried all it could to fight against her. Thankfully none of them did succeed, leaving Charlotte whimpering on her bed in desolation.

France stood outside her bedroom and listened to her sorrow. She thought that he'd hate her for rejecting him… She was so silly. There was no way he could ever hate her. He was in grief for his broken heart, but he couldn't hate her; they had been best friends for so long. She was the only one who stuck by him through thick and thin and he wasn't going to let that change for the world.

Clutched in his hands was a reasonably sized breakfast tray carrying two plates of fine morning food for himself and his host, made by him in order to patch things up before the day began, but he was unsure it was such a good idea to talk to her. Now, it had been clear that the last thing she wanted was for him to ignore her, so following her wish he held the tray in one hand and knocked on the door.

"Jarlotte, mon cherié? Can I come in?" Francis waited patiently for an answer, succeeding on receiving a mellow 'yes' from the other side of the woodwork, allowing him to open it and face the gloomy gal glum on the bed.

"I made you some breakfast." He gradually entered, closing the door behind him and placing the tray onto her bedside table, "I zought we could eat togezer." Although he was trying to smile at her and glance kindly into her eyes, she only diverted her own gaze away from wherever he stood and curled up miserably.

"Ma belle, won't you please look at me?" She was acting childish. Usually it would be the one who had gotten rejected who would be curled up crying, not the rejecter. The fallow haired girl just shook her head and placed it into her knees.

"You hate me now, don't you? I don't deserve your food." France stared at her with a questionable gaze. Why was she beating herself up about this?

"Of course not, mon cherié!" Carefully he sat down next to her on the silken sheets, grazing his hand over their smooth touch before comparing it to the cheek of the red-faced beauty beside him, "If hating you was zee only way I could live another day, I would happily die for you." Such honesty through his words… Charlotte couldn't help but turn just enough so one of her shimmering fallow eyes could stare into France's handsome features. If he was lying, he'd show it in his face, but nothing told her in his truthful smile that he didn't mean what he said. Taking the gradual turn to him as a positive sign, France tested his zone and threw his arms around her into a gracious squeeze. She was just too adorable.

"Also, zere is no one I'd razer cook for then you. If you don't eat my food, it would make me really sad." He leaned over the ball of a girl and grabbed one of the forks, filling it with food and vigilantly grabbing her chin, "Come on, open wide~, ma ange!" Earning a diminutive smirk, the Aussie gently opened her lips and uncoiled her legs, dropping them down over the edge of the hefty bed. As promised, France placed the fork of deliciousness into her graceful mouth, onto her subtle tongue. She closed her eyes and savoured the wondrous taste.

"There's no one's cooking I'd rather eat." She candidly admitted. The blonde narcissist smiled amorously and brought over the food tray, sitting it in between them both.

"That makes me 'appy, mon cherié. It's my turn now, no?" He passed over the other fork and leant forward, hoping that she wouldn't start shying away from him. To his enjoyment, she took out a forkful of the beautifully presented meal, bringing it towards his face with a childish gleam.

"Then open wide." She pushed herself forward and placed the food into his mouth. As she done so, accidently her other hand had contacted with the hand which France prompt himself up on. She threw it back, almost too quickly, like his body was burning her. This wasn't liked by the Frenchman at all; the melancholy and hurt reflected through his features incredibly, bringing the guilt flooding back into the Aussie speedily.

"Please, Jarlotte, your rejection doesn't change anything!" France threw himself over the tray and onto her shoulders, forcing his hold to close her in as his forehead rested on her heart, "Don't treat me any different… Please don't shy away from me."

"I don't want to hurt you." He could feel just how hard it was becoming for her to hold back her tears; he could hear it in her voice.

"You will only 'urt me if you no longer see me as your best friend. I love to feel your touch; I love to 'ear your 'eartbeat, your voice and your laugh. Without you 'appy, I'm not 'appy. If you 'urt yourself by pushing yourself away, then 'ow do you zink it will make me feel?"

Charlotte was only quiet to contemplate his words. This was why she realized the difference between making love and having sex in the first place; to think about Francis's feelings. Now, she was being selfish yet again.

"It'll hurt you much more than it would hurt me…" She sighed.

"Zat's right." After a few moments, she twisted her body around, placing her hands gently onto his back to keep him in place.

"I like it when you hold me, Francis. And, I like it when you kiss me. I like it when you cook for me, when we're talking and when we're hanging out together. I don't get it really, but it makes me feel weird; kind of fuzzy really." Although France didn't make it obvious by budging from his place on her breast, he opened his eyes wide, listening carefully as her heart picked up its pace even more with every word she said. That was strange… She said that she didn't love him, so why was her body reacting as if she did?

"Jarlotte… Can I ask you somezing? It may be a delicate subject." She lifted him off of her and stared deeply into his gorgeous blue eyes.

"Go on then."

"What…" How was he going to ask this? What if it was a harsh subject that she wished that he didn't know about? However the situation, it was a part of Charlotte that he needed to know, or she may never understand her emotions and never fall in love with him, "What… 'appened between you and America? I 'eard you last night say it was 'America all over again'. 'E also warned me about you when you brought 'im back on our date night. Zere is somezing you two are 'iding."

Charlotte paled incredibly. He had heard her… And that was what Alfred wanted to talk to him about that day? That hurt her to know that he thought that she was going to hurt him the same way as- Oh… she did. France quickly noticed the discomfort shadowing her and regretted the question.

"If it is such a bad topic zen-"

"No… Perhaps it is best if you know. Maybe you'll understand better. It's a long story though, so at least sit more comfortably." He hesitated silently, but obliged, letting her go and climbing next to her as she removed the trays back onto the bedside table. With a deep breath to begin with, she grabbed Francis's hand close to her and began.

"It was a really long time ago. Too long. It was also just before we had met. America had just finished declaring his independence from England, and so I had gone to see him…"

Alfred sat at his desk and finished signing the last of his revolutionary documents, sighing at the work he had to complete now that he was a free country. It was lonely and cruel without England at his side anymore, but it was something that had to be done. The ache of his chest was a pain which he had gotten used to over the past few months fighting with his guardian, the pain of ripping apart something which he enjoyed as a child. There was no one who would take care of him anymore; he was independent and had to live as such. He put down his quill and leant back into his seat, turning enough to watch through the side window. It was a gloomy day; perfect for the gloomy man in his office. So many lives were lost at war… The young country knew that at least their efforts were not wasted and that the new found life will prove to be a successful time. As his gaze followed those of innocence working incredibly in order to build their new civilization away from the British forces, there was one single person his gazed turned to; a single woman who made his eyes widen with shock as she walked towards his building. He knew that girl so well, but how many years had it been since they had last seen each other? Her glossy fallow hair was packed up tightly into a high bun, keeping it as neat as the clean uniform she wore of the Australian military, and her eyes still as sharp yet kind and beautiful as he had remembered. She hadn't changed, but now that he was so much bigger, he could fully comprehend the beauty of her golden tanned skin in the darkness of the cloudy atmosphere. Charlotte… But why was she here? She was still a part of the British Empire and shouldn't be seeing him for any true matter. Did she want to fight in honour for Britain? Her succulent figure exited his gaze quickly as she entered into the building, only until a few minutes later when he heard the predictable knock on his door.

"America, sir, a young woman named Miss. Charlotte is here to see you. She said it was urgent and that you knew her." The guard politely addressed the Nation.

"Send her in." America ordered. Why did she address herself as Charlotte rather than Australia? The guard nodded and ushered her through, closing the door as she entered. As graceful as he had remembered her to be, she waltzed in and brought a sense of dignity with her. She resembled England with poise, but nothing else. That was why he liked her; although she had been influenced by the British the same way he had been, they both had much more in common than she did with England.

"G'day, Alfred." She smiled kindly, taking a few steps towards his desk. However, she stopped as he stood up and took steps towards her instead. Charlotte couldn't help but stare and audibly gasp at just how tall and handsome he had become.

"Hey, Charlotte. It's been a long time." He smiled back. It was surprising that he did actually remember who she was considering the last time she had seen him was when he was a young child. England had brought her over to America's place only a handful of times when he had the time to visit her at her place, and then ship her over with him. He had grown so much since back then. When she had heard of his declaration of independence, she was sure that he was still a young boy and that he would have no chance against the British; she couldn't have been more wrong.

"Come, sit down and I'll get us some coffee." Alfred welcomed her in, letting her sit down on his desk chair while he quickly spoke to someone outside about the bitter drink. Accepting his chair, she sat and leant back. She wasn't there for merry-making and catching up; she wanted to form a peace and trade treaty before anything kicked off between them. He managed to beat England; there was no way she would be able to look after her young siblings and fend him off if something was to happen. That was the first reason anyway. The second was a request from England himself, although America wasn't allowed to know this, he entrusted her to make sure that his country started well and without difficulty. England didn't want to admit it, but he was proud that America had grown up so strong and wanted him to be happy with his newly found independence. After a short time, Alfred returned with two mugs full, handing one of them over to her and then sitting on the edge of his desk.

"Thank you. Ya know, I'm surprised ya remember me, ta be honest, Alfred. It's been such a long time after all."

"I could never forget you're pretty face! Uh… I mean…" Damn it, he had already messed up! She was always so caring when she had come over to play with him… and so beautiful…

"Aw, ya sure are sweet, aren't ya?" She giggled, "You've grown to become such a fine young man, Al." Successfully dodging a discomfited beginning, Alfred inwardly sighed in relief and thanked her. For a while, all they did was talk about their country's plans, reminisce and drink their creamy coffee. It felt nice to have some company to cheer him up after the war.

"So what did you need anyway, Char? I doubt you came all this way just to give me some company." America placed his coffee cup down and leant towards her with a gleaming smile, one which was instantly matched by the astonishing female.

"Well, as much as I enjoy the company, you are right; there is a reason I came here." She began, copying her partner's actions by placing the coffee down and leaning towards him, "I have a proposition for ya. Firstly, I congratulate your newly formed independence. As an independent country now, you will have to find a way to import and export goods that your country, as well as the world's wealth, can trade. Also an independent country, if it is not governed properly, you are a target for other, larger countries-"

"I doubt there are many countries that want to fight me! After all, I will become the hero of this country, then the hero of the world!" He laughed with pride. All Australia could think was how young and clueless he still was.

"America." She sternly scowled him, "This is a serious matter. You are still inexperienced with the world. You had England, myself and I believe another country that had made sure you were protected as you had grown, along with the rest of the British Empire. I know that you feel that independence is the key to a life of freedom, but freedom also means responsibility. That responsibility is to make sure no one tries to take away your freedom." Alfred didn't say anything. All he could do was sit quietly and listen to her. This was business that she was trying to tell him about, as well as the trade of becoming a stronger nation.

"Ya may not be a part of the British Empire anymore, but I still care for ya deeply and the last thing I want is to see ya hurt." She… cared for him? What did she mean by caring for him? Did she love him or something? That was strange; why would she care for him after all he had done to England?

"So, I want us to create an alliance. Ya will still have your independence, but in the case of war my army will quickly come to aide your side. I also think we should make a trading agreement; this way we can buy and sell products such as weapons and food, keeping both of our economies as stable as possible. What do ya think?"

She wanted to make an alliance. This was the first time he had to make such a decision which would affect the rate of his nation for future years. She was right; he had to burden such a big responsibility now. Was it a good idea to continue trading with a country of the British Empire? Although, England and Australia didn't spend a lot of time together, leaving Australia to becoming basically her own independent country anyway. She had experience; she was wise; she could help him keep in the guidelines as he learnt how to keep the people of his home well and economically stable.

"Ya don't need to answer me right now. Just remember that my offer stands. Ya can wait until you have built up your home and found a steady time where it is easier to begin this sort of life; just remember my words. Ta' for having me here." Charlotte stood from the chair and headed for the door, only to be pulled back as her arm was swiftly grasped by the taller nation.

"Char, please don't go just yet. I won't accept or decline your proposal yet, but would you just help me with the first stepping stone and stick around for a little bit? It's obvious you know what you're doing, and I could really do with someone who isn't bias to help me out." Staring at her with pleading eyes, Australia felt compelled to agree. He may have grown big and strong, but America was still an inexperienced kid. She couldn't just leave him to fend himself against the world; there was so much he needed to be taught. There were only one country who had to go by alone that she could think of and he wouldn't be so stupid to attack without reason, but try and slowly build his way over America until his economical values drops; China would find a way to take America's land without him noticing rather than by war. These were the sort of things he needed to learn before he agreed to any treaties that other nations project to him. Perhaps it would have been wise for her to teach him the ropes before she returned home…

"And that was what I had done. I taught Alfred about countries he should work with, who he should look out for, how he could keep his economy from collapsing, etc.. Before I knew it, I had stayed with him for so many months and my boss was starting to get worried that my absence would be taken advantage of, so I had to return home…"

"I'm sorry, Al, but I've been away far too long. I have my own country to look after too, ya know." She sighed. He was clinging to her way too tightly now. Although the last few months had shown to be a brilliant time, watching as his home grew all around them both, she had to get home. What she didn't understand, however, was why her sudden announcement caused the younger nation to spring to her and grab her forcefully into a close grip.

He didn't want to let her go. It had only taken those short months for the strong nation to fall in love with her. She was perfect for him; beautiful, stunning, amazing, he didn't care that she was so much older than him. He wanted her to become his before she disappeared. It could have become years, decades, centuries before he could see her again; he needed to tell her just how he felt before that could ever happen. He needed to show her just how much he appreciated her help.

"Char, please don't go yet… Or at least just let us enjoy one last night together before you go. Please?" Begging didn't suit him at all. Maybe one more night wouldn't have been too bad; she could tell her boss that she was delayed.

"Alright, fine. One more night. But I have ta leave tomorrow morning, got it?" America lifted his head off of her shoulder and faced her with the most sparkling eyes she had ever witnessed along with the most childish grin, like a kid on Christmas day.

"Ah perfect, thank you!" Before he could stop himself, America forced himself forward, pecking the sweet woman on the lips. His sudden contacted shocked the girl beyond her senses; but she could feel how warm yet coarse his bitter-tasting lips were against her own. It wasn't at all an unwelcomed taste, or an unwelcomed kiss; it only shocked her for the diminutive moment he had done it. Judging by his bewildered expression, coupled with the rubbing of his nose from where they had bumped together, he was just as stunned that he had done that as she was.

"Ah, I-I'm sorry, Char! I don't know what came over me…" He tried explaining with the overly exaggerated arm movements he had come accustom to using. Charlotte pressed her lips warily, but only smiled to the lofty man in a childish nature.

"It's quite alright, Al, I understand." She giggled. She… accepted his kiss? That was a good sign, wasn't it? Such an endearing feature to her already striking face was that smile of hers… He began remembering back when he was still so young and in the care of France; he would teach him about what it was like to be in love: what you would notice, what you would feel, what you wanted to do to the person… After a while, his perverted guardian got carried away with his teachings, leaving the young Alfred blinding away any strange things that looked weird, or muting the things he really didn't want to hear about mainly because he didn't understand what he was talking about. But, after a few years, the blonde elder's words began, unfortunately, sticking in his mind; only now could he really understand the concept of love which he had always told him about. Tonight he was going to put France's lessons to use and tell her… show her, just how much he loved her.

The night came by quickly and America felt a little under unprepared. He was sweaty and nervous, taking in way too much caffeine with the countless cups of coffee he had chocked down that day. After a while, even Charlotte could notice something wrong. Every time she tried getting him to open up what was bothering him, he would just brush her off or change the subject. Could he not tell that she was genuinely worried about him? Although he was like this during the day, as soon as they had gotten back home and relaxed a little, he found himself growing more comfortable in her presence, calming both of them down enough to enjoy the peace of the wondrous moon rising in the overcast sky. They were both sprawled out on Alfred's bed, warming up adequately by the picturesque fireplace as they giggled together with an alcoholic drink in hand. The evening was radiant for both countries with the strangest atmosphere between them both.

"Ah… It's so warm in here; it's perfect!" The Aussie stretched out her limbs and collapsed face-first into the pillows where the younger man casually sat.

"Yeah…" Was his smart reply. Unsatisfied with his short answer, Charlotte turned her face towards him and pouted.

"Seriously, what's been wrong with ya today?" She poked his side childishly, only to get a reaction she really didn't expect. As soon as her finger pressed his stomach, he keeled over with a grin, grabbing where she had poked quickly in order to stop her from doing it again. However, his motions were too exaggerated just to ignore. Trying again, she poked the same place, only this time she changed her tactic and scratched down his side, earning an obscure mix between a yelp and a laugh. At her sudden touch, the dirty-blonde haired jumped away from her to the other side of the bed and gave her a blushed look that sort of tried telling her to keep away. Realisation struck her like a tonne of bricks.

"Al… Are ya… ticklish?" When he refused to answer her, a huge devilish grin forced its way upon the older girl's phizog. She climbed up onto all fours and faced the curled up man, hungry for teasing.

"Wait… What are you doing, Char? No, please, wait!" He couldn't stop her. She pounced at him, straddling him in order to pin him down and instantly went for his muscular sides. The instant her hands rapidly stirred across him, he burst out in laughter, trying as hard as he could to control his giggling fit long enough to fight against her but he found himself completely helpless under her. He ended up laughing so hard that it had begun to hurt; it even started the daring gal off as she watched the sheer pleasure twist in his face after so long without being able to laugh so hard. He needed his revenge or she was going to wear him down completely! Mastering all the strength he could, he twisted her over quickly, straddling her so the tables had turned. Before she could get any words of protest out, America threw her shirt up to uncover her creamy stomach and started attacking her own sides with his hands.

"No! No fair, Americ-AH!" She burst out into a fit of chuckling as his much larger hands bounced across her stomach. Her luscious skin was so smooth… Such sexy curves… As she laughed her entire body vibrated under him… It felt so good. Before he knew it, America's tickles calmed down into more of a massage, focusing on the luxurious texture of her incredible skin as her rapid breathing deepened to a flawless, sexy breath. Her hair still sat in her bun, but every here and there a strand had broke free, making it so alluringly messy and framing her reddened face from the lack of air… He couldn't get enough of her… Her face was turned to the side, exposing her divine neck. There was something he wanted to do to that neck, as if he wanted to taste it. Such a strange feeling.

"Al… As good as that feels," She breathed at his pleasant touch, "What are you doing?" Lifting her head up, she brought her gleaming fallow eyes upon Al's precious blue, letting them shimmer kindly just for him. Something snapped. Alfred could no longer stop himself. Quickly diverting his glance from her treasured orbs to her velvety neck, he lowered his rugged lips onto her skin, kissing it and sucking without a second thought for the girl.

"Al! What are you-"His hands continued to massage her stomach, edging ever so slightly wider after every stroke; his tongue started to trace over a small spot on her neck that felt too good. Hitting that spot caused unintentional growls which the younger couldn't miss… They sounded so arousing…

Suddenly, Alfred stopped every one of his movements and became rigid. Charlotte, at first confused, tried to budge herself from his weight, but the motion of her hip as she tried wriggling free unveiled a hidden secret to the, no longer confused, nation.

"Alfred… Are ya…?" She bucked her hip to make sure, proving her accusation as the blonde nation growled into her neck. Sitting just on her lust was the forming bulge she was so used to; there was no way she could ever mistake a man's growing stimulation.

"I'm sorry, Char… It seems that I can't stop." Speeding up, America threw his hands up and into her shirt, grabbing both of her rotund breasts in each of his tepid hands. She couldn't hold back the stunned gasp as he did so and as he picked up on her neck and started biting down on her shoulder. However, his bites were rough as his grabs were soothing; he was still green behind the ears. With a slight giggle, Charlotte pushed onto his hands from the top of her fabric, squeezing them and pressing down harder to accelerate the contentment which shot through her body. She moaned softly at his touch, though inexperienced, he wasn't too shabby. His scent of his musk was weak to the Aussie, but nevertheless a tasteful smell; she loved the robust smell of a man. His hands worked peacefully away at her bosom, but only squeezing her full mount. His tongue roamed all around her stretched neck, spreading his saliva with so many kisses over every part of her. It was balmy and slippery, but it wasn't all she wanted his spit to caress.

"Alfred…" She purred. God he loved it when she said his name like that, "Don't give my neck all the attention." Not fully understanding her request, he unclamped his mouth from her and stared hazily to her astonishing face. Without a word, she made his gaze travel down to her chest by drawing circles over the white fabric for his hands to feel. He cutely blushed as he stared, still slightly unsure. He tried pulling his hands out from her shirt, but her own hands clamped them down again.

"Ah-uh. You'll have to find another way." She teased him. Damn her sex appeal was so strong against him; he could hardly stop himself from bucking into her while their hips were still locked together.

"Uh… How am I meant to unbutton your shirt if I can't use my hands?" He asked defeated and earning a small chuckle from Charlotte.

"Here, lemme show you." Without the removal of her own hands, she pushed herself and the larger country up so he sat comfortably on her lap. Through her shirt she massaged his hands, causing the reaction so he would start groping her again while her own mouth stretched up and kissed his neck. It felt strange to him; he didn't realise that he would react the same at the same motion. But instead of working around his brawny collar, her teeth latched onto his top button, skilfully unlocking them one by one until she reached down to his stomach, then using her nose to remove the unwanted clothing from his chest. The feel of her nose over his skin tickled him, but at the same time it felt oddly good. She licked at his abs and chest, making him groan.

"Whether it be man or woman," She whispered just loud enough for him to hear, "Right here…" Her tongue reached over his nipple, suddenly making his eyes tightly shut as the amazing electrical shock ran straight from his chest to his member, "…Will always be reactive." The brown haired continued to play with his nipples as they hardened under her tongue. He was so cute. Her breathing deepened through her nose and bounced of his skin, making him shudder under its contact.

"Oh, fuck, Charlotte I can't take it anymore!" He whined. He was a lot stronger than her; as he worked against her vice-grip, it didn't take much to slide them out, but he did result in pushing her breasts fastly and strongly into her body, hurting her incredibly. She yelped in pain, catching his attention once again.

"Did… Did I hurt you? I'm sorry, Charlotte, I didn't mean to!" Pouting, she rubbed her chest slowly to try and ease the pain.

"A woman's chest becomes really sensitive when she's stimulated. There is no need to rush, Al; you'll get what you want soon enough." Her pout became a smirk as his face blushed apologetically. He was still a child after all, "Maybe ya should kiss them better…" She playfully pressed her boobs forward and forced his head down by grabbing the back of his neck, quickly placing his nose into her cleavage. After the sudden astonishment had passed, Alfred took a hold of her curvy slim back and drew sweet nothing with his tips, following with his mouth his partner's example and unbuttoning her shirt with his teeth. What he didn't realise, however, was that it was much harder than she had made it look. It was fiddly work; his teeth kept slipping off or the button would only go through half way, but she remained patient. She was calmly enjoying his touch, whether he was good or not. So caring. Finally he got the buttons completely undone, letting her shirt fall perfectly over her hardened rosebuds just to cover them from his sight, yet reveal her shallow cleavage. Using his nose, he removed the last of the shirt from her chest and letting him see just how aroused he had made her.

"Whether it be man or woman, huh?" He repeated her words before clutching his lips onto her erect nipples. She growled as he gently sucked her, running her hands through his shiny locks and taking in fistfuls to keep him just where he was.

"Mm, that's perfect…" She sighed. The words of reassurance caused Alfred to try and experiment a little more. He took one hand up to the other of the pair and played with the pink plush, while the other drew a line from the top of her spine and down to the hem of her skirt, and back up again. She moaned into his scalp, telling him that he was doing well. As his hands and mouth switched positions, she lowered her own, much smaller hands onto the lap of Alfred, massaging his legs strong enough to feel him hiss onto her. Slowly, they worked their way up, grabbing his twitching length through the cloth of his trousers and rubbing it.

"Oh my, Al, does my body really turn you on this much?" She teased, continuing her massage into his crotch. His growls became deep and husky; swiftly he threw her over to the side and crawled back on top of her, using his own hands to release his member from its cage and force her soft fingers to coil around it leisurely. He couldn't get enough of her. Wincing at her touch, he lowered his lips to hers, staying a hair's breath away from her.

"It's you who turns me on…" He whispered, lowering his lips the last millimetres onto hers. With each movement her tongue entwined with his, her hand pumped swiftly, picking up speed as she soon became used to his length and feel. Inside his mouth he tasted bitter from the countless coffees he had devoured that day, but the feel of him in her hand wasn't like the chapped lips, or his rough hands; it was tender and amiable. Having such a beautiful feeling placed inside her was turning her head to the point where her sweet nectar was beginning to pour out of her body. She wasn't going to last much longer either. As she left one hand to work for him, she used the other to begin lifting her ankle-length skirt up to her stomach.

"Al…" She moaned into his tongue. Once her skirt was up, she readied his member before her entrance and bucked onto him, sheathing him before he could realise it. The sudden warmth coiling him caused him to groan and buck the rest of the way into her involuntarily. His lips let go of hers and he rested his face onto hers, grabbing her hips and moving irregularly. Charlotte tried keeping a rhythmic pattern for him to follow, but he couldn't. After a while of the messy motion, he finally started to get the hang of a rhythm, one which matched his heart beat. As the older woman joined his thrusts, the pleasure between them heated exceedingly, throwing moans and screams of bliss all across their shared wave. He tucked his nose ecstatically into her loosening bun and smelt only her perspiring oceanic aroma, wanting nothing but to taste every part of her sweaty body and hear every perverted sound she could throw. She was so amazing at this; He could understand why France always spoke about it. Where his neck had stretched to reach her bun, she kissed down on the clammy skin and started sucking, making as many hickeys as she could. His pace quickened, slamming himself into her body with the force of a hundred men until he felt his release soon working up.

"Ah! Char… Charlotte!" He moaned into her ear. He felt in the pit of his stomach as his seed spread through his body and vehemently exited into her forbidden entrance. He stopped instantly and collapsed down onto her, still smelling her wondrous scent while removing himself from inside her frame. She started stroking along his broad back as they caught their breath. Not too long later, she could hear the light breathing of a young man drifting off to sleep.

"Hey, Al, before ya go to sleep, can ya get off me?" She started struggling under his weight, trying her best to breath properly as it became dead weight above her.

"Oh, sorry." Quickly he lifted himself off and sprawled down beside her, letting her sit up and begin heaving comically. Standing up from the heated bed, she stretched and straightened her skirt back down before grabbing her shirt and putting it on.

"Well, I better start packing." She smiled to him. A look of horror suddenly presented itself over Alfred's features.

"Wait, you're still going to leave? After this, you're leaving just like that?" He sat up and sorted out his own trousers, but not once taking his glance off of the standing nation.

"Hm? Of course. I told you I needed to go tomorrow. Was this meant to change that?" She was a dense as England mentioned.

"Of course it was! Didn't we do this because you love me back?" He exclaimed hurt that she would walk away.

"Wait… Love you 'back'? You… love me, Alfred?" This was a shock. She turned around to him so her body faced his completely, her stunned face matching his own.

"Y…Yes. I love you, Charlotte. A friend once told me that when you love someone, this is what you do to show it. This… was the first time I've done anything like this." He admitted diverting his gaze to the floor. No… She took his first time? Why would he give her his first time like that?

"To this day I've wondered which idiot had told him that sex was the way to tell someone you loved them." She turned her head and questioned herself, leaving France unnoticed as he scratched the back of his head. Perhaps America misunderstood what he had meant…

After what seemed like forever, the dazed look changed from Australia into a traumatizing anger.

"You idiot! Why did you let me take your first time? You should have told me beforehand!"

"It doesn't matter does it? You return my feelings, right?" Somehow, America wasn't as sure as he was a few moments ago. She… did love him… right? There was no way Australia could tell him the truth without breaking his heart.

"No, Al… I don't. I don't love you like that. I care for you, but I don't love you." She almost whispered her sentence. There was no other way than to tell him straight, "If I had known, then I would have made that clear a lot sooner."

America's heart broken into the millions. She was so caring and so kind; where was that Charlotte he knew? She had flat out told him that she didn't love him. After everything they had done together, after these past few months they had shared… And it was only because she 'cared' for him, not because she loved him. He dropped his head in shame and embarrassment, covering his brow with his drooping golden locks.

"Perhaps it'll be better if you left now." He coldly stated. Australia didn't say anything. What could she say? Instead she exited his bedroom without a single glance back, wanting the world to just swallow her whole so she could disappear forever.

"I broke his heart when he was so sure that I was the right one for him. He wasn't the first person to confess to me, but he was the first who I had shared such a deep relationship with before sleeping with. Like him, I was certain of my partner's feelings before I decided to take them to bed… and like him, I was wrong." She stared over at France and dropped his hand from her chest, "I was so sure that there was no way you could fall in love with me. After all, you had so many women at your feet that I thought I'd just be another one of them."

"You zought I couldn't be in love wiz just one person?" When she shook her head to confirm his statement, he couldn't help but feel distressed. He was at fault on that one; how many women did he tell that he loved and meant it? He was such a fool... But she was by far the bigger fool.

"Can I tell you something that I've never told anyone before?" There gaze met in security, indicating for her to continue.

"I… I've never been in love before. I guess some could say I have Philophobia. Maybe it's not as harrowing as a phobia, but I'm always scared that if I fall in love that I will hurt the person… Or they will hurt me. I can't control my lust; I've slept with countless of people, just like you and I don't trust myself to only be with one person."

"You've never been in love?" That was it. That was why she was reacting as if she did love him, but rejected it; she didn't know that she loved him. Relief washed through him reassuringly. Her heart beat for him and she openly admitted that she liked his touches and kisses; that 'fuzzy' feeling she was experiencing was the love she had for him! He felt like he could cry in contentment. The only problem was how he was going to prove to her that love was nothing to fear?

"If you 'ave never been in love, zen who took your virginity? Did you not love 'im?" He contemplated. Again, she shook her head.

"My first time was with a Dutchman. I was really too young; I didn't know what was happening. It all happened before England found me. As I grew older and began to understand, I realized that his words of reassurance was just him getting his way. He never came back for me like he had promised." France was heartbroken for her. She was used, just like he had felt after she rejected him. This was probably why she had an incapability of falling in love and separating love from passion. Overcoming this fear was going to prove difficult, but for his love he would do anything to convince her of her feelings.

"Ah, mon cherié, I finally understand!" He claimed surprising the Aussie, "And I'm not 'appy one bit. You cannot live without l'amour! So I…" Suddenly, he stepped down from the bed, grabbing the bewildered girl's hand and knelt before her, "… I will show you what love is. I will shower you with so much affection that you will realize soon enough 'ow much you love me." He kissed her silky skin and smiled up to her, excited for his newly found challenge. She didn't want to, but she couldn't help but giggle at the giddy Frenchman.

"And how, may I ask, do you plan on doing that, monsieur?" He picked his body up and leant over her, placing both hands onto the bed to tower above her with a hungry glint in his eye.

"Zat, ma belle, is a secret." Having gotten to the bottom of her emotions, France finally leant forward far enough to entwine his lips into hers, showing her the true passion as the beginning of his guide to falling in love.

This... Was my last written chapter... Fudge. I better get back to writing, but college has kept me busy so I haven't been able to think enough to write. I hope you lovely readers can be patient for me! I promise I'll get up and about with writing once more as soon as I can.

-xlilslayerx-