GerUk/GerEng Collection

Unconventional Confession

     "So I was thinking..."

     "That can't be good."

     "Oh Angleterre, you wound me!"

     England only sighed into the phone. As usual, France was intruding on his otherwise peaceful night. He had just curled up with a nice cup of tea, a wool blanket, and a copy of the Great Gatsby when his phone began buzzing. "Just get to the point," he growled, wishing to return to his book.

     "Fine, fine. I am in need of a drink and I thought maybe you'd want one too."

     He swore he could hear the smirk in the Frenchman's voice. Nobody asked him out for drinks, especially France. Something about being a 'lightweight.' In the end, it didn't matter, he wasn't going to let France of all people rattle him. "You? You want to go drinking with me?"

     "Goodness Arthur, I know you're an old man but I didn't know your hearing was going."

     "Wha- You're older than me!"

     "Is that a yes or no?"

     There was obviously an ulterior motive here and England was not about to fall for whatever France was planning. Then again he hadn't gone out to a bar or pub in quite a while, and it was always better to have someone to drink with (even if it was the frog). He debated with himself for a few minutes and eventually decided to take the chance and go out. "Fine, but you're paying."

     "D'accord. I'll come get you at 7:00?"

     "Sure."

---

     France took England to a pub not far from the Englishman's home. England had promised himself he wasn't going to get carried away, still suspicious of France's invitation. But as soon as he walked in and got wrapped up in the loudness of the crowd and the smell of alcohol, his resolve slowly began to slip.

     He started with a glass of gin and tonic, telling himself this would be his sole drink. Then he started craving some rum and after two glasses of that he was gone. "Okay mon ami, I think you've had enough," France said with a slight smirk as he looked over his flushed and drunk friend.

     "Wha...I'mperfectlyfine," England slurred. He tried to get the bartender's attention to order something else, but France had already requested he be cut off.

     "If it makes you feel better, you did better than I expected."

     "You...Youstupishfrog. You don'tknow whatyertalking about."

     France just gave him a chuckle in response. "Oh, I'm pretty sure you are the one who doesn't know what they are saying."

     Before England could spit back some slurred nonsense, a voice roared from behind them, "What the hell is going on?"

     "Ah, Ludwig you made it," France cheered, gesturing him over. Through the blurry haze, England turned to meet the stern gaze of Germany. His lips were drawn into a thin line and his brows knitted together. Despite this unimpressed look, England lit up at the sight of his friend. He stumbled over to him falling into a sloppy hug that the German reluctantly returned. "Our good friend Luddy is going to take you home."

     "What?" Germany hissed as he tried to push the drunk Brit off him.

     "You, mon ami, are going to take him home. I would if I could but Matthieu is in dire need of a ride." His voice was dripping with lies and over dramatics that even England was able to pick up on in his drunken state.