His arms wrapped around your waist.
His head was resting on your pant line, which was actually a skirt.
"Get off." you say as you push France's shoulders down to get him off and away from your... you know... but he was too strong. (For once)
"Well excuse eh moi, you never spend time with me! So the only way was to sneak under your desk and hug you!" France whimpered as he looked up at you with puppy eyes.
"Your a tracas*." You growled to him blushing alittle at his cute face.
"MON AMOUR*! You spoke French! Even if it was an insult!" His flace gleamed with pride.
You pushed back your chair to make France fall face first on the ground. It worked.
As France looked up to make a hurt face, it turned in a Cheshire smile.
"White again, Amour?*
You kicked him in his face.
Today you were walking out of your house when a blonde-headed French man popped out from
behind a bush infront of your house.
"FINALEMENT*!" France laughed as he sprinted toward you.
You were about to go back in your house when all of a sudden you were slammed back
against the front door.
"Amour*! I waited all morning for you to come out! I missed you!" France made his famous
You blushed at the creepy but kinda sweet gesture when...
"FRANCE! WHAT ARE YOU DOING? You better not be bothering ________!!" Said a familiar English accent.
"Oh England!" You sigh contently, France looked at you with shocked eyes. "Thank god your here! Lets go eat some English cuisine and get away from France!"
"Uh... okay?" he blushed alittle at the request that someone actually wanted to EAT his food. "But I was just coming---"
"Lets talk it over FOOD!" You laugh unconfortably as the French man behind you was getting steamed.
You had just came home from the actually okay dinner with England.
You laid down on the couch to let the food "set" when you heard...
"MOI AMOUR MOITIé*!"
*My love half! (Like as: You are my other half. Your my love half)
You looked up to see France standing in your hallway. You were about to yell at him for
sneeking in your house, but decided against it when you saw his face RED.
You couldnt tell if he was blushing or just plain PISSED.
"France... h-hi..." You whispered as you hid behing the couch backing.
"How could you choose him over Moi!?" he growled as he got closer to the couch.
"Uh--France, sometimes you come on alittle solide*." You knew that speaking French might
calm him down.
He finally reached the right side of the couch. He looked so hurt.
Your face went numb. His face was just...
"I'm sorry, you know I am... but you just...."
"A POIL!" France responded.
*Strip! (As in NO CLOTHES~)
"W-what?" Your face turned red.
"A POIL! STRIP! If your REALLY sorry, A POIL!"
The next thing you knew, you were lying on the couch, France atop.
"France--!! What--" you were cut off as he kissed you as hard as he could.
"Shoosh, let moi faire le parler*."
*-me do the talking"
Well... it always was kinda hot when he spoke French to you....