(Anon would like OP and other readers to be gentle as this is her first attempt at writing a fanfiction in years. Not too mention, this is anon’s first foray into the world of Hetalia fandom. As long as OP is happy, this anon doesn't care!)
Normally, the sight of France in such a battered state would have left Arthur with a smug expression, however neither of them was fairing well. Germany and his boss were giving them many sleepless nights and now Italy had declared himself allied to Germany. He could only thank the good Lord above his troops hadn't been prepared.
"Ma chérie, times could not be worse for a reunion. Perhaps we could schedule this for another time?" The blond man offered only the stiffest of bows, before turning to leave.
"You wanker, I’m trying to have a conversation with you and you can bloody well wait for me to finish, before walking off!" Could he do this? Churchill was asking a lot, but, then again, there was more at stake here than just pride. His cheeks were still burning, rather from anger or embarrassment was anyone's guess. Thank goodness the gloves were covering his sweaty palms; otherwise he wouldn't be able to look blond in the face.
To his astonishment, the Frenchman once more faced him, his interest piqued by the Englishman's strange behavior. "Oui, mon petit Angleterre, Time is of the essence and I dare not dawdle while my countrymen die."
"You bastard, I've lost my own countrymen defending your sorry arse! The least you could do is respect their efforts to keep the enemy out of your lands!" The burning was definitely anger now, how could one being completely captivate his senses. He took a deep breath as he calmed himself. "I have a proposal to make..."
Arthur watched the Frenchman offer one of the lewdest smirks the poor Brit had ever seen. "Mon ange sauvage, if I'd only known this was your intent, I may have been able to bring proper refreshment."
"Blasted frog, I’m trying to be serious! My prime minster has already approved. Oh bollocks, I'm no good at this. Damn it, will you give me the honor of uniting with me?"
"Excusez-moi?" Arthur only wished he'd had a camera to save this moment.
"Marry me, please, we- I can't afford to lose you." The English man gave the other blond his most sincere look, hoping that it conveyed half, if not all, his true feelings. He felt his blush deepening as he pulled out a neatly folded document. "I just need your signature and, of course, your Parliament's approval. We can win this, if our union is strengthened. This marriage will strengthen our countries relations and force Germany to see that together we can overcome their… mmmph!"
Lips clashed as Francis pulled the startled country closer. Perhaps to the casual observer, these times were not the best for making out with another man. Then again, neither was human nor did they care what others thought. Eventually, despite protests by a surprisingly eager Brit, both had to separate to catch stolen breaths.
"England," Francis murmured before kneeling to one knee, "I had always hoped to be the one doing the proposing, not the other way around. I must say, I am pleasantly surprised and…"
"Save the long-winded speech Francis, we're both running a bit short on time." The Englishman watched as bare knuckles were brought up to inviting lips. Just when did that sly devil remove his glove? "Well? What is your reply?"
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Fall of France (1/2)
(Anonymous) 2009-03-11 12:50 am (UTC)(link)Normally, the sight of France in such a battered state would have left Arthur with a smug expression, however neither of them was fairing well. Germany and his boss were giving them many sleepless nights and now Italy had declared himself allied to Germany. He could only thank the good Lord above his troops hadn't been prepared.
"Ma chérie, times could not be worse for a reunion. Perhaps we could schedule this for another time?" The blond man offered only the stiffest of bows, before turning to leave.
"You wanker, I’m trying to have a conversation with you and you can bloody well wait for me to finish, before walking off!" Could he do this? Churchill was asking a lot, but, then again, there was more at stake here than just pride. His cheeks were still burning, rather from anger or embarrassment was anyone's guess. Thank goodness the gloves were covering his sweaty palms; otherwise he wouldn't be able to look blond in the face.
To his astonishment, the Frenchman once more faced him, his interest piqued by the Englishman's strange behavior. "Oui, mon petit Angleterre, Time is of the essence and I dare not dawdle while my countrymen die."
"You bastard, I've lost my own countrymen defending your sorry arse! The least you could do is respect their efforts to keep the enemy out of your lands!" The burning was definitely anger now, how could one being completely captivate his senses. He took a deep breath as he calmed himself. "I have a proposal to make..."
Arthur watched the Frenchman offer one of the lewdest smirks the poor Brit had ever seen. "Mon ange sauvage, if I'd only known this was your intent, I may have been able to bring proper refreshment."
"Blasted frog, I’m trying to be serious! My prime minster has already approved. Oh bollocks, I'm no good at this. Damn it, will you give me the honor of uniting with me?"
"Excusez-moi?" Arthur only wished he'd had a camera to save this moment.
"Marry me, please, we- I can't afford to lose you." The English man gave the other blond his most sincere look, hoping that it conveyed half, if not all, his true feelings. He felt his blush deepening as he pulled out a neatly folded document. "I just need your signature and, of course, your Parliament's approval. We can win this, if our union is strengthened. This marriage will strengthen our countries relations and force Germany to see that together we can overcome their… mmmph!"
Lips clashed as Francis pulled the startled country closer. Perhaps to the casual observer, these times were not the best for making out with another man. Then again, neither was human nor did they care what others thought. Eventually, despite protests by a surprisingly eager Brit, both had to separate to catch stolen breaths.
"England," Francis murmured before kneeling to one knee, "I had always hoped to be the one doing the proposing, not the other way around. I must say, I am pleasantly surprised and…"
"Save the long-winded speech Francis, we're both running a bit short on time." The Englishman watched as bare knuckles were brought up to inviting lips. Just when did that sly devil remove his glove? "Well? What is your reply?"