𝐔𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐃𝐨𝐰𝐧

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You stood there, still confused and a bit overwhelmed by the entire situation. You were in some sort of alternate reality, where flags had personalities and you had been transported into their world.

You slowly followed the French man to the kitchen, taking in the opulent decor and the aroma of something delicious wafting through the air. As you entered the kitchen, France slipped off his coat and hung it up on a nearby rack.

He busied himself with preparing the dinner, humming a tune and occasionally glancing at you with a warm smile. You couldn't help but feel an odd sense of comfort in the presence of this friendly, doting man who treated you with such care and affection.

After a while, France motioned for you to take a seat at the large wooden table in the middle of the kitchen. You sat down, watching as he finished the meal and served it.

France looked around and huffed, looking back at you with a smile. "I'll be right back, sit tight," He hummed before heading off upstairs. He came back shortly with the Canadian in tow.

With everyone at the table, France seemed pleased as he offered his son some of whatever the fuck he conjured up in that kitchen of his. The dinner was surprisingly good though, and you left the table filled.

France escorted you back to the guest room afterwards, leaving Canada at the table to just sit there and do something. Maybe get his ass up to go wash his dish.

In the room, you brought up the thought of clothing, like day and nightwear. France hummed, resting his index finger on his chin. "That is a good question, chère, as a designer I cannot stand for you looking unfashionable, can I?"

France seemed almost offended at the mere thought of letting someone be unfashionable. "For now you can wear Canada's old clothes until we can get you something, alright? Let me go get them from the attic,"

France then rushed off momentarily, coming back shortly with a cardboard box marked 'Can-Can's old'. France set the box down on the bed and opened it, holding out some articles of clothing for you to inspect.

Holding up a white tee shirt with a red maple leaf print and a pair of flannel lounge pants for you to see, France smiling at you before folding them and placing them onto your bed.

"You can wear these to bed tonight," He hummed as he closed the box and slid it under the bed. "Change into these then go brush your teeth and wash your face, I'll have some stuff set out for you in the restroom when you get there."

France exited the room and closed the door behind him, leaving you to get changed. You quickly did so and headed to the restroom across the hall, finding a toothbrush and toothpaste already set out for you on the counter.

After doing all of your hygiene stuff, you headed back to the guest room. Almost as if on cue, right as you got into the bed and shut off the light, you heard a knock on your door.

"Come in," You called, sitting up from bed with your gaze fixed on the door. In came France, happy as ever. He came to your bedside with a smile, placing a glass of water onto your bedside table and looking over at you.

"Alright, Bonne nuit," He said, kissing you on the forehead and exiting the bedroom, leaving you tucked into bed and blushing like crazy.

~~~ ~~~ ~~~

A yawn escaped your lips, your eyes fluttered open as you sat up and stretched your arms over your head. The room was bathed in a soft morning glow from the light that filtered through the curtains.

You hopped out of bed and tiredly trudged downstairs and into the kitchen, but weren't met with France. Instead, you saw Canada setting the table, French Guiana sat in a high chair, cooing and babbling.

You rubbed your eyes and walked over to the table, looking at Canada with half-lidded eyes. You met gazes with the Canadian, who offered you a seat at the table and placed a mug of hot cocoa on the table in front of you.

"Morning." His voice a low hum, "Dad had a work emergency, so we're watching Baby Guiana today.." He told you, placing a plate of pancakes in front of you before going back to the kitchen, getting a bottle ready for French Guiana.

You smiled tiredly and settled into the chair. You picked up the mug, feeling the warmth seeping through the porcelain, and took a sip. The delicate sweetness of the cocoa was comforting, and you finished the whole mug in three big gulps.

You placed the mug back down and looked over at Canada while grabbing your fork. "What's France's job?" You asked, cutting up a pancake before stuffing it into your mouth.

"He's a fashion designer," Canada replied, continuing to prepare French Guiana's milk as he spoke. You hummed, "Oh yeah, I think he mentioned that before at some point," You noted, shovelling more pancakes into your mouth.

"That must be really nice for him." You mused. "He's pretty successful, since he's the only designer around here, and with no competition, everyone has to wear his stuff," Canada added, handing the bottle to French Guiana.

Canada sat down with his own plate of food — the same as yours — and began to eat. "So, how'd you sleep?" He asked, shovelling pancakes into his mouth. You shrugged, swallowing down a mouthful of pancakes.

"good, I guess," you answered as you finished your plate. You were about to get up and go wash your dish, but Canada stopped you and took your plate before you could, insisting he could do it for you.

You complied and sat back down in your seat, instead turning your attention to French Guiana. "Ahw," You hummed, looking at the babbling baby. "So we're watching her today?" You asked, looking over at Canada.

"Yep, but it's alright if you don't want to. I can watch her alone," Canada told you, walking back to the table to grab his own finished plate, going back to the sink to wash that as well.

"No, no, it's alright. I'll babysit her with you," You answered, looking over at Canada, then back at French Guiana. "She's a real cutie, I gotta admit," You commented, patting French Guiana's little head.

You looked back at Canada. "So what're today's plans?"

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