Five times France realized he was in love with England [1/5]
anonymous
May 8 2009, 13:27:09 UTC
(Or "Where England is an oblivious douchebag for five times")
France squinted as he looked at that adorable, tiny nation.
The eyebrows were really something, he noted. Really, really something. In fact, they awed him so much that he whistled.
England, on the other hand, was not amused. Not amused at all. In fact, he was close to blowing a gasket.
"Stop staring at me!" he squeaked. Angrily.
France merely chuckled and patted England's head, only to get his hand swatted away.
"But mon chéri, you are so adorable!" he said.
"Stop mocking me, you cross-dressing get!" England said.
"And your eyebrows. So exquisite!"
"The eyebrows again?!" He rubbed the aforementioned eyebrows. "I'll burn them so that you'll-- I mean, I'll never have to hear any of your stupid jabs."
France frowned. "But I like them."
"All the more reason for me to make them disappear." England was cackling now.
As he tried to make England do otherwise, France wondered why he even bothered with that little island that gave him nothing but trouble (and perhaps some amusement on odd days like this). Then he went, "Oh," and he merely laughed. He also lightly slapped himself on the cheek. But how could he have been so ignorant as to not have noticed that?
England was left creeped out; all the more so because there weren't even any fairies telling jokes to France.
"It's nothing, chéri," France said, his tone sounding lighter than the usual. "I'll visit again tomorrow. Don't shave your eyebrows~!" He blew a kiss onto the highly disgusted-looking young nation.
He pranced away from England who was left shouting, "Like I'll do anything you say, bastard!"
When France visited, there was little England whose eyebrows seemed to have grown. He smiled a smile brighter than the day.
France squinted as he looked at that adorable, tiny nation.
The eyebrows were really something, he noted. Really, really something. In fact, they awed him so much that he whistled.
England, on the other hand, was not amused. Not amused at all. In fact, he was close to blowing a gasket.
"Stop staring at me!" he squeaked. Angrily.
France merely chuckled and patted England's head, only to get his hand swatted away.
"But mon chéri, you are so adorable!" he said.
"Stop mocking me, you cross-dressing get!" England said.
"And your eyebrows. So exquisite!"
"The eyebrows again?!" He rubbed the aforementioned eyebrows. "I'll burn them so that you'll-- I mean, I'll never have to hear any of your stupid jabs."
France frowned. "But I like them."
"All the more reason for me to make them disappear." England was cackling now.
As he tried to make England do otherwise, France wondered why he even bothered with that little island that gave him nothing but trouble (and perhaps some amusement on odd days like this). Then he went, "Oh," and he merely laughed. He also lightly slapped himself on the cheek. But how could he have been so ignorant as to not have noticed that?
England was left creeped out; all the more so because there weren't even any fairies telling jokes to France.
"It's nothing, chéri," France said, his tone sounding lighter than the usual. "I'll visit again tomorrow. Don't shave your eyebrows~!" He blew a kiss onto the highly disgusted-looking young nation.
He pranced away from England who was left shouting, "Like I'll do anything you say, bastard!"
When France visited, there was little England whose eyebrows seemed to have grown. He smiled a smile brighter than the day.
"Angleterre is so cute, non?" he asked.
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