Thanks to lebeauishida, fishstick1999, starwarsandmarvel, Bluestorm deputy of Rohanclan and Lovesbugsalot for reviewing.

Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia.

NyoFrussia: Loophole

Anya's face twisted in disgust. She hated that Englishwoman, and at the same time she wondered if she should apologise and correct the wrong.

How was she supposed to know that the woman was a witch?

Anya sighed, pushing the food away. It didn't matter that this used to be her favourite meal. It all tasted horrible to her. What did that woman say again?

'Any food that you lift to your lips will taste of carrion and decay.'

…

When Anya had met Francine, it was after she pushed away the food in a small café. The Frenchwoman wanted to know what was wrong with it, and Anya had simply stated that it didn't appeal to her.

Francine took her to different restaurants, trying to find something that did appeal to Anya, and the Russian didn't have the heart to tell Francine that she couldn't taste the nice food. But she loved the attention, and soon the two spent time together for the fun of it, without there being any food involved.

It wasn't until she discussed the subject with her older brother that she heard that Francine Bonnefoy was a master chef, known throughout the world for her delicious cooking, and that everywhere Francine had taken her to, the Frenchwoman owned a share, and all the food she had recommended to her were her own recipes.

Anya felt guilty, and tried to stay away from Francine, but she found that she had fallen in love with the other woman, and couldn't stay away.

Because even though they tasted horrible, the food always smelt wonderful.

…

Anya was fidgeting nervously. Francine had invited her over to her house for some home cooking. This of course could only end badly, since she couldn't blame the kitchen staff this time for messing up the recipe.

"Here we are, mon amie," Francine said. "Bon appetite."

She looked down at the food and swallowed nervously. It certainly smelt delicious, but she knew that Francine would be worried about the taste.

Anya brought the food to her mouth, and as usual the food tasted horrible. She chewed it slowly before swallowing.

"Well?" Francine asked, a hopeful smile on her face.

Anya couldn't take it, and she burst into tears. Francine was instantly at her side, a hand placed on her shoulder.

"Ma chère, what's wrong?" Francine asked.

"It's a curse," Anya said. "Any food I eat, tastes horrible. I wanted to tell you, but I didn't know how. I feel so bad, because you try to give me good food, and it smells delicious, but when I bring it to my mouth, it's awful. It tastes like rotting meat, and I'm sorry, and…"

Francine rubbed her back, trying to calm the Russian. She had a concerned look on her face, and frowned at the food.

"Is it only food that you bring to your mouth?" Francine asked.

Anya nodded. She could taste drinks just fine, and often had a bottle of vodka nearby whenever she was eating. However, she had misinterpreted Francine's question.

Francine gathered a small bite onto the fork, and she brought the fork over to Anya's mouth. Anya looked at it confused, but obediently opened her mouth.

Her eyes widened, and her tears became tears of happiness. It was the most wonderful thing that she had ever tasted.

Francine continued to feed her, and at one point the Frenchwoman put the food in her own mouth and fed it to Anya through a kiss. Anya blushed, but she kissed back, even after she had swallowed the food.

The prompt I used was 'Imagine Person A of you OTP is cursed that all the food they lift to their mouth tastes horrible, and they fall in love with person B, only to find out that Person B is a renowned cook. Bonus- person B figures out how to bypass the curse by simply lifting the food to Person A's mouth themselves. A is overjoyed to finally be able to appreciate Person B's work.'

'Mon amie' is the female form of 'mon ami', and the possessive pronoun is the male form because the French are afraid of having too many vowels close to each other, especially when an 'e' is involved. That's how my French lecturer explained it.