Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia.

Frussia: Floral

France hummed as he approached the meeting room. The Allies had yet another meeting, and he wondered if they would actually get something done today. How many meetings have they had? And how much had they actually done?

He winced at the thought of the Axis. Germany especially made things difficult for France, and he wondered if the others even appreciated how much pressure he was under. Well, China might have had an idea, but the others…

He entered the meeting room and came to a sudden stop. At his regular seat was a red rose. When he picked it up, he noticed that all the thorns had been removed as well. This was done with thought.

France immediately dismissed England or America as the culprits. Knowing England, he would have searched for an extra thorny rose, and America struck him as a bit too impulsive to think things like this through. So, could it be Russia or China?

He still couldn't think of a reason why either of them would have placed a rose at his seat. Of course, one would expect that something like this was a gift from a secret admirer, but neither of them seemed particularly interested in romance. They barely seemed interested in friendship.

…Okay, so China didn't seem particularly interested in friendship. Russia seemed a little lonely. France made a mental note to spend a little more time speaking with Russia.

"Oh no," a familiar voice said, prompting France to spin around. "What are you planning to do with a rose this time?"

"I'll have you know that this was at my seat when I arrived," France said. "But, thank you for confirming that it wasn't you."

England sputtered, but soon he settled. France's face was serious, and England wasn't going to continue on this course. England crossed his arms.

"Well, do you have an idea on who it might be?" England asked.

"Are you interested?" France asked, raising an eyebrow.

England shrugged.

"I'm so used to you being the flirty one," England said. "Honestly… I'm curious to see it happen to you. I don't think I've ever witnessed that before."

"You need to get your eyes checked then," France said. "I don't think it's America. The thorns were removed, and he doesn't think a lot of things through."

"Can't argue with that."

"So, it might be Russia or China. That is, if it was one of the Allies who left this for me. If not, then I have no idea."

"Other than the employees, I'm pretty sure we're the only ones who use this room. And if it's your seat, then they would have to know where you sit on a regular basis. Unless it wasn't meant for you."

France flinched, before he looked down. Of course, everyone would know that he loved roses, especially red roses. He was sure that this was supposed to be for him.

He and England couldn't discuss this further, as America soon arrived, and Russia and China came soon after that. As they started the meeting, France tried to monitor the others. America and England tried to compete for attention, and China commented on how 'mature' they were. Still, China glanced towards France a few times, as though he expected him to chime in at any time.

France took note of all the times that China looked at him, but Russia also glanced towards France from time to time. Whenever one of them would look at him, France twirled the rose in his hands. Strangely, it was always Russia whose eyes snapped to it. So, could Russia be the person who left the rose in the first place?

France decided that he would leave it at that. He would watch what Russia did in the next few days. He also suspected that Russia wanted secrecy, for now. And he was only mostly certain that it was Russia. There was still a chance that he was wrong, which was another reason why he would wait.

However, the next day, there was another rose at his seat. And the next day, and the next. It seemed to be all that Russia intended to do. And after the third time, France was sure that Russia was the culprit, since he was the only one that didn't have anything to say about the rose.

After the fourth rose, France made his way to a florist after the meeting. It was fortunate that Russia wasn't subtle about his favourite flower. It was something that France and Russia seemed to have in common.

…

Russia went into the meeting room. He wasn't used to being the first one there, but had gotten accustomed to it during the last few days. He had the single red rose slightly out of sight, just in case someone saw him.

He paused when he placed the rose on France's usual spot. At his own space was a sunflower. It hadn't been there the previous day. Russia slowly took the sunflower and smiled. He would return to his room and put the sunflower in water. And he would continue to appear as though he only arrived later.

When the meeting started half an hour later, Russia tried to look inconspicuous, but when he glanced in France's direction, the other had a smile on his face and winked at Russia. France definitely knew, and he seemed alright with that. Russia was glad. He had feared that France would be angry or disgusted with him, but that wasn't the case.