France x Reader: No Frogs Allowed

Au Café!/To the Café!

Lunch had just ended and now you were seated in a meeting that seemed twice as boring as the first half. Like before, everyone seemed to have their own way of keeping themselves entertained.

England sat next to you once more, while France was now sitting across the room. You glanced in France's direction, accidentally making eye contact and causing him to wink in your direction. Fifty shades of red painted your face, and you hid it by smacking your papers in front of your face. You peeked over the edge of the papers to see him smirking, making your cheeks heat up even more. England looked over at you curiously with one eyebrow raised, as did the country sitting on your other side. You sheepishly grinned, setting your papers back on the table to assure them that nothing was wrong. But as you set them down, a paper airplane landed right on top of them. You picked it up cautiously, noticing that there was writing on it and proceeding to unfold it. On it read:

Mademoiselle, you are so very cute when you blush, your beauty is only comparable to that of my own.

You raised an eyebrow and looked at France, who smiled brightly. Was he always this self-absorbed? You continued to read:

I would love it more than words can describe if you would go to eat at a café with me after the meeting. You are a very beautiful country, I promise you won't regret it!
~France

You stared at the letter in shock for a few moments, not noticing England's head leaning over your shoulder until he growled. You nearly jumped out of your seat and watched as England proceeded to walk over to France. You gulped as the entire room stared at England grabbing ahold of France and attempting to start choking him. Several countries jumped to France's rescue, and as they pulled England away you could hear shouts of "I'll kill you!" or "You bloody frog!"

As America held England back and France sputtered for air, you wondered what would cause England to explode like that. Looking down at the note once more, you tried finding out what could anger England so much. Nothing really popped out at you. You cautiously watched as England sulked back to his seat, plopping into it in the most ungraceful of ways. You decided that it would probably be wise not to tell him that you were going to meet France later.

Many boring minutes passed, the highlight of the meeting seeming to be passed.

You almost cried tears of joy when it was over, gathering your things quickly and making your way towards France. You smiled at him who returned the gesture, but the bright smile was quickly replaced with a frown. Before you could wonder why, the answer walked up to you.

"Hello, love!" England exclaimed. You sucked in a breath and forced a smile, wishing that you could just go up to France already. England seemed to notice France waiting for you and your forced smile, soon putting two and two together. He wore a look of total betrayal, eyebrows upturned and mouth slightly agape. The surprise soon gave way to anger, and he huffed. "Don't tell me you're actually going to eat with him! That bloody frog is simply playing you!" He cried, exasperated. You grinned sheepishly and quickly looked for an excuse. The water fountain was placed behind France and gave you an idea.

"Pfffff... What? No..." You said. "I was just getting a drink from the fountain. Why would I go with Frog Face?" You lightly punched England's arm, who seemed satisfied with your reply. You turned and saw France's slightly crestfallen face, and winked at him, which seemed to reassure him.

England smiled. "Well, as long as you're not going with him. France is bad news, I'm telling you. He'll pretend that he likes you, then bam! He's gone the next morning. Stay away from him." He warned you before leaving the meeting place. You sighed and made your way to France, who grinned.

"Mademoiselle, you are truly a master of keeping Angleterre away, now we may leave in peace!" He said, taking your hand. You smiled up at him who returned the gesture, and you were whisked out the doors, into the bright afternoon sun.

You two walked to the café together, bags swinging by your sides as the people around you went about their day. Your mind kept wandering to England, who seemed genuinely worried about you hanging around France. You couldn't shake the feeling that he was right, even if you knew he was wrong. France was really nice, albeit kind of arrogant, but nice nonetheless.

France abruptly stopped, causing you to almost fall over trying to follow him. Luckily you caught yourself and straightened, gazing at the café.

You could see through the windows people happily eating and chatting, the aroma of fresh baked food seeping through the air. You looked up at France, who smiled at you before pushing the door open, small bells ringing. The lady behind the counter smiled at you two.

"What can I get you?" She asked, smiling. You could tell she was talking more to France than you, and from the way she was acting you could figure out why. She was leaning rather far over the counter, clearly trying to get France to notice her... Breasts. And well, it worked. He smirked and rested an elbow on the counter, proceeding to flirt with her while you stood awkwardly to the side. After listening to enough giggles to make you sick, you had had enough. You cleared your throat to let him know that you were still there- not invisible- and his head snapped back to you.

"Ah, ouais! Deux cafés et deux croissants, s'il vous plaît. Two coffees and two croissants." France walked back over to you, and attempted slipping an arm around your shoulder. You quickly pushed it off and crossed your arms. You were not exactly happy with him.

Your food arrived and you sat by one of the windows. After a while of chatting, you had forgotten all about earlier. You were lost in France's blue eyes and his charm, almost forgetting where you were. What snapped you back to reality, however, was noticing a familiar face at the café.

"England..." You whispered, staring at the mop of blond hair at the counter. France gave you a quizzical look.

"Quoi? What?" France asked, trying to follow your line of sight.

You said it louder this time. "England's here."