Chapter Text
France poured himself bland Slovakian coffee into a cup. It was good to be back in Bratislava. They had just taken a break from the meeting and he left Germany to talk with the other members of the EU. He smiled to himself. The negotiations for new austerity measures went fairly well, considering that they were dealing with fellow European countries. Europe had always had a hard time agreeing with each other. If they were lucky, they could get past this Euro crisis before 2012 comes in.
"I can't understand what you see in that kraut."
France looked up and saw England, glaring into his cup of tea as he sat behind the pantry table. They were the only ones there. England looked up at him, still glaring, but this time France could clearly see the hurt in his eyes.
Throughout the whole meeting, England had been expounding the virtues of keeping their own currencies in connection to sovereignty and instances such as what had happened recently, further making the meeting more depressing than it already was. Germany had respected his decision to keep the Pound, although the Great British Pound would have added to the Euro's monetary potency. They had tried to convince him, but the island nation stayed steadfast.
Now, he was merely trying to be obnoxious. Just recently, he had started supporting Turkey's accession to the EU in opposition to France and Germany. Ever since he became a member, he'd made it a point to be frequently in the opposition, with Ireland occasionally joining his cause.
Germany had been patient. He rationalized that England was doing it for the interests of his nation. France knew better.
He tried his best at a kind smile. "Angleterre, you shouldn't give Allemagne such a hard time."
England scoffed and looked away, his brows slightly quivering as though he was trying to stop himself from crying. "Typical of you to switch alliances when it's convenient."
France internally frowned at that, but tried to keep the conversation light. "The others seem to think differently, Albion."
England's teacup banged on the table, causing France to jump. "You think this is a joke?" he snarled.
France's brows knitted together. He didn't want to discuss this. He really didn't. "Anglettere--"
The other nation stood up and slammed his open palm against the table. "I never thought you of all people would have such short memory." He bit his lip. "Don't you remember what he did to you? Don't you remember how you almost died when--"
"What I've experienced in his hands is comparable to what I've experienced under yours," France cut in coldly. He didn't want to do it, but England was treading on dangerous ground. They had agreed to not mention it anymore. "But I've forgiven him just as I've forgiven you."
England looked at him hopelessly, fighting his hardest against the tears as he limply sat back down. He crossed his arms on his chest. "What now? You're going to follow him around faithfully like a dog?"
"I believe the proper term is partners, Anglettere."
The seated nation laughed humourlessly as he looked into his cup. "Do you really think he'll see you as a partner?"
France sighed, hand running down his face as he leaned on the counter. "What are you trying to do?"
"You know exactly what I'm trying to do."
France sighed heavily and looked out the window. He took a sip of his coffee and winced. "It will never work. We've tried and we've failed. Countless times."
"Maybe we haven't tried enough."
He looked at England warily. "You know we have."
Indeed, they have. There were countless times when they could have done better. There were many chances. But each time, they failed. Each time, they just ended up being frustrated, only to try again, and end up hurting each other again. They didn't know what was wrong. For the life of him, France really wanted to know. They didn't lack in love--at least he thinks they didn't. They give their all but everything keeps falling apart.
And France, well...he was already exhausted.
"But you still love me." It wasn't a question. It was a statement.
Yes.
It was a miracle how they remained in love even after hurting each other too much. Over and over and over--
France dumped the rest of his coffee in the sink. "Allemagne is already looking for me."
He strode out before England could get a word in. He didn't want to be tempted again. He didn't want to be hurt anymore.
No matter how much he loves England.
"Frankreich," Germany said, his face splitting into a warm loving grin, despite the apparent exhaustion in his face, as France entered the conference room.
He embraced the taller man and was shyly embraced back. He still wasn't so used to open intimacy even after a few years into the relationship.
France smiled to himself amidst the warmth Germany provided him. He could get used to this.
"Tired?"
"Very," he said, leaning on the younger nation, his chest feeling comfortably warm. He is happy here. With Germany.
Germany kissed the top of his head. "We will go home soon. I still have a lot of work to do in Frankfurt."
France chuckled into the other nation's shoulder. It was typical of him to leave work to go home for more work. "You're not working tonight. I'm going to cook us something delicious."
He felt the taller man hesitate before he sighed fondly. "All right."
I could get used to this.
France caught the sight of England from the corner of his eye, entering the conference room with a miserable scowl. He hugged Germany closer to himself and buried his face in the other man's shoulder as he felt his heart squeeze uncomfortably.
If he is really so happy, why does he feel so conflicted?