Francine woke up to the birds singing outside and sunlight streaming on her face. Rolling over to see England, she noticed he wasn't in bed. She put on some clothes and walked out into the living room.
England sat on the couch, dipping a tea bag into the water of his cup. A glass of wine sat next to him, half full.
"Oh, France, you're awake. Are you ready to turn back now?"
Arthur picked the vial off the table and poured it into the wine. The liquid filled the glass but it still stayed it's red sparkling color.
France sat on the couch next to her glass and happily started drinking.
Then they waited...
And waited...
"Arthur, I don't know if it's going to work..."
England sat shaking, "No, I swear I did it right this time!"
"It's ok, everyone makes mistakes. I'm going to go brush my hair, I'll be back down."
She stood back up and made her way into the bathroom. Then once again, a black smoke filled the room. This time it was being coughed out of her mouth.
France doubled over the sink. Black goo dripped from her mouth. Arthur heard the gagging and guested the bathroom door open.
Next thing France remembered was laying on the couch again. England was there too, holding an ice pack to their forehead.
"Angletterre, did it work?"
But Francis didn't need an answer because he heard his voice being lower and he felt the weight off his chest and the tightness in his pants.
The two countries celebrated and hugged eachother.
"Well," England began, "I guess this means you're leaving."
"Oh Arthur," Francis laughed, "It's not bad. Have we ever been separated for long?"
Francis took hold of his lover's shoulders and brought him into a kiss.
"I'm just glad that I don't need to be a female anymore."
"Yea, now I can call you Wanker again."
The nation's helped pack France's things and got ready to go to the airport when Francis spoke up again.
"Hey, did ou breathe in any of that black smoke earlier today?"
England tripped over the luggage, "Well yes, but, I doubt it will do any harm to me."
"Be safe, mon cher. I will see you soon."
Francis drove away leaving the British man to stand, recollecting his memories of the past couple weeks. He began strolling back to the house when he fainted onto the front lawn.
Hours later, he woke up in the bedroom, Francis seeing the fall and taking him back inside.
Arthur sat up, the room still spinning in his brain. Francis giving him a "don't panic" look. England lifted his hands to his chest, feeling two small bumps. His hair longer, and an empty space in his drawers.
"Not this again."
((That's the end! I hope you enjoyed this short story.))