Hetalia Oneshots (Requests Open)

France X Reader ~~Part 2~~

Your pov

"I left a gorgeous woman at my house for nothing?" He asked, his features darkening. You barely recognized him like this. This was not the Francis you knew.

"Not for nothing, for your son," You said, evenly.

"You said he was fine, no?" He shot back.

"Look, I need to talk to you, about a few things," You sighed. He raised an eyebrow and you lead him to the couch. You didn't sit, but he did. He must have known that you were going to pace. You paced when you tried to think.

"What's wrong, mon a mi(1)?" You rubbed your temples and fought off an oncoming headache.

"I know that things have been hard since... well... since everything happened, but you need to pay more attention to your son," You said, trying to speak in a soft tone so you wouldn't wake Matthew.

"I pay attention to him," Francis argued. You stared down at him with something like pity filling your (E/C) eyes.

"No, you don't. At least, not as much as you should," You sighed. The tapping of your bare feet on the wood floor became deafening as you paced a little faster.

"You don't think so?" He rubbed his fingers through his golden hair as he looked up at you. The stubble on his chin looked rougher than you remember and he looked more tired.

"No, I don't. I know that you've been trying to find love again, but you can't keep doing things the way you are. It's not good for Matthew and it's not good for you," You said, mirroring his action of tousling his hair. His hands clasped together in front of him while his elbows rested on his knees.

"I'm fine," He said, sounding anything but.

"What about, Mattie?" You asked. You stopped walking for a second to look at him properly.

"He has you, mon a mi," He said, giving you the smile that had always made you weak in the knees. You sighed through your nose. "You're so good to him. He really likes you."

"He doesn't like the woman you're dating," You said, glaring at him softly.

"Of course he does," France said, a little offended.

"He really doesn't, Francis," You scoffed, "If he did, he wouldn't be talking about this woman wanting to send him away."

"What?" The blond stared at you, looking every bit as innocent as his own son, questioning what you were saying in silence. You squeezed the bridge of our nose lightly, becoming frustrated. He's a terrible father, you thought. Still, part of you knew he was just trying to get it together.

"Does this girl ever suggest that you bring, Mattie, with you on dates or seem child friendly?" You asked.

"(Girl) never wants to bring, Matthew, with us," He muttered. His voice was low.

"I wonder why that is," You grumbled, sarcastically.

"You don't know as much about her as you think you do, (Y/N)," He said. Leave it to him to defend this woman. Your temper flared within you, but you calmed it slightly before you spoke again. You didn't want to wake, Matthew.

"Let me see if I can guess a few things. She's tall, leggy, and in her early to mid twenties. I doubt she's ever done so much as babysit, so she doesn't have or want children. Her voice is soft as silk, her make up is done perfectly 24/7, and her perfectly manicured nails have never seen a day of work in their life. How close did I get?" You said. You maintained an even tone with a little bit of salt thrown on top. You raised an eyebrow as he crossed his arms and looked away from you.