AN: Hello there!

Over 2000 hits! Yeaahooo! THANK YOU SO MUCH !

Allez c'est parti, here we go !

Oh and by the way. If anyone got shocked by my sentiments (stuff I said in a note in the previous chapter, about England and English people), all my apologies, I didn't mean to hurt anyone. I'm just here to have fun (and incidentally telling dirty stories in English so my family can't understand and believes me when I say "Look, I am not playing, I am working" loool x) ). I understand that I'm a bit exaggerating sometimes. Sorry for that, but hey, no one can change me, I am what I am. Did you really think that we would listen to you calling us frogs and idiots and throwing clichés on us without replying anything? You would be surprised, kids XP

This is not mean, but just teasing, and anyway this is Hetalia, isn't it? :)

So, if you don't like it, well, you're not obliged to read me, and I wonder how you can be a Hetalia fan… Everything I say here is humor, of course! ;) I understand that just by writing, it may be difficult to guess if you are really serious or not. That was just to avoid any diplomatic incident or shit, alright? :)

One last thing. Ch3rryb3rry101, I appreciate your proposal of marriage \o/ But I am sorry, I like only men for the moment xD I like guys generally, but I think there is only one man I love on Earth. The only problem is that he lives quite far away from my home. He's Belgian (no, not English :P Haha I got you, lol), and I had the feeling while writing this chapter that I was putting all my love into it ^^ Oh but do not cry, I love you, readers, however ;)

By the way, just some advice: do not read when not alone. Except maybe with your boyfriend/girlfriend if you enjoy having nice trips together… Hum. Stop rambling. :D

Hope you have some soap/shampoo/shower gel/detergent next to you. You might have to clean the screen. It might get dirty…

Praslin is another island part of Seychelles.

Now I shut up my talkative mouth. (Haha I'm much less talkative while really speaking. Because of my crappy accent à chier full of merde. I hate it.)

Praslin, Seychelles, November 29th, 1896

Years are passing by and everything is still going all the same.
He's working all day and night and all I can do for him is just cooking, sewing, cleaning up the house, making tea, and waiting. Waiting for him every day.

When he's away for some days, the house appears so cold and lifeless.
My sky that is usually so blue turns into gray, my turquoise sea losses all its brightness and tea just tastes like hot water.
A heavy ball grows up inside my chest and makes me suffocate.

But even when he's here, I do not feel good. It is even worse.
When I look at his eyes, my heart squeezes and relaxes within few seconds. It feels like if I was falling into a ravine. I want to dive into the emerald of his eyes and to run away from them at the same time because I shouldn't stare like this, this is rude, and I know it. So I lower my eyes, feeling shameful.

When I try to answer when he talks to me, I am not even able to make a correct sentence, without stammering or replying the wrong thing.

"What is wrong with you, Victoria, you're not even listening to me!" He tells me off, with a frown, making his thick eyebrows joining each other.

When he looks at me with his exasperated look, I feel my cheeks like burning me and butterflies dancing inside my stomach. Then I smile and I feel so idiot!

When he's reading in his armchair, not paying attention to me, he is so… cute.

I want to hug him, find warmth against his chest, his arms around me forever.

Actually, it happened on one night.

He was reading, as usual, in his armchair, and I couldn't sleep. I went toward him, wondering if he would accept to give me that surge of affection that I had been waiting for such a long time, hoping he wouldn't get mad. I know this is insane and against the rules, but the temptation was stronger than my fears.

"M-mister Kirkland…

He noticed me and widened his eyes. He was about saying something but nothing released from his mouth. I was only dressed in my nightdress. I had forgotten my housecoat in my room.

- I would like… just a hug." I said.

Before he had any time to reply, I sat into his lap and coiled against his chest, my arms squeezing behind his neck.

He was warm and comfy, and he smelled like a mixture of whiskey and perfume.

I was expecting him to pull me back and scold me but I felt his arms coming around me instead and pressing my back firmly but with gentleness.

It was like everything around us had stopped existing. There were only us two. I was feeling like flying in a cloudless sky.

As I was burying my face deeper and deeper into his chest, I felt his hands going lower and lower on my back until they reached my thighs under my dress.

The reminiscences of this Christmas with Francis showed up again in my mind. Those were the same feelings, his hot and wet breath into my hair, his strong fingertips caressing slowly and softly my skin, causing shivers running along my spine. That was dreadful but so good at the same time. Did I want him to stop? Did I want him to continue? I didn't know. If this was what he likes, I would let him do it whenever he wants.

I was panting heavier and heavier against his chest, listening to his heart beating so fast and strong.

Then one of his hands went farther reaching my intimate parts and started rubbing it, his fingers pressing against it.

I immediately led out a surprised moan and my body stiffened by itself. I felt new feelings running from my sex to my stomach that terrified me at first because they were so weird, strong, and… good.

His other hand grabbed my hip, preventing me from escaping.

He continued, going faster, pressing harder. I could feel something liquid flowing from my entrails wetting his fingers. I felt so good that I couldn't refrain from gasping and squealing, and for a short moment I felt ashamed of all that. It made me feel so weak.

And then the pleasure reached a pitch. My body was moving in all directions in my dress all wet from sweating, sticking to my skin. That was unbearable!

I raised my head toward his face, leaning on his shoulders with my hands. His eyes were closed and his cheeks were coated with a pink shadow that made his face more irresistible than ever. His reddened and swollen parted lips were exuding a sickly heat that gave me a craving for pressing them with my mouth and shoving my tongue inside of his.

I approached closer. My face was burning.

I was so close that I could feel his breath blowing on my teeth. Definitely the best moment I would have ever dreamt. I tried to murmur his first name but I just couldn't control my voice and the sounds came from the depths of my throat, making me pronouncing it the wrong way.

"Aaaa- Aarrrtuurrr… I gasped and regretted it immediately.

He stopped and removed his hand off my intimacy and moved his head back. His eyes were filled with confusion and he raised a questioning eyebrow.

- H-how did you call me?

Red of shame, I tried to justify.

- I-I didn't… I-I a-am sorry! F-forget it!

Of course, that was useless. And rude, moreover. He had already noticed that I did pronounce it the French way, obviously.
I kept on looking at his shirt's collar, unable to dare meting his gaze. I think I have never ever felt so idiot in all my life.

He cupped my face with his hand to force me facing him. I kept on avoiding his eyes.

After a moment that seemed to be hours to me, he let out a brief laughing sigh.

-Well, time to sleep.

I jumped out of his lap to let him stand up and I started walking to my room, trying to control my shaking legs until I felt his warm palm on my shoulder.

- Don't tell anyone about what just happened." He told me.

I could feel a mix of the usual toughness and an unknown weakness in his voice.

Without looking back at him, I nodded silently, walked away and locked myself in my room.

Despite of something between my legs hurting me, I was so high and happy that I thought I would never go back to the real world. How could this be real anyway? I am a little girl, and he is Mister Arthur Kirkland! This is just called impossible love. I'll end up unhappy. But I do not care.

I love him. This is all what I care.

AN: Oof! This chapter was embarrassing lol.

I think you can keep the soap with you for the next chapter XD

Review? :D

In France, we write Arthur Arthur as well, but the pronunciation is something like "Ârrhtürrh" (I tried to symbolize the wide opened "A", thrrrroaty "R" (hahaha!), replace the English "th" by "t" and the "u" sounds like the German "ü" (it is also the same sound in Swedish, Norwegian or when China says "aru!" :) ))