Hetalia Drabbles

All alone (FrUk)

Disclaimer:I do not own the following work of fiction.

"Tic Toc~ Tic Toc" echoed across the mansion. This mansion was full of antiques and history, all but a room- a child's room, which hasn't been entered in over 3 centuries. In front of a blank TV was a chess board, its pieces moved around as if it was in a middle of a challenging dual. Which was odd, for only one man was playing. A man of middle age, blonde, slender, dressed in proper English clothes. His looks could impress many, but he was cold hearted. Or perhaps, it was his abnormal eyebrows, which are planted above deep green eyes. "Checkmate" the man announced with a heavy British accent, as he kicked the board right off the table. He was upset.

But why?

In a game played only by himself? Losing shouldn't matter to him!

It was the fact that he was playing by himself. The young man was lonely.

Young... this man to look to be in his 20's, was very old. Old as the country he represents.

The United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland.

Like his country, he was isolated from others. Sad, and alone.

Then the door bell rings. Was this man hearing things? "Angleterre?~ " The man recognized this, for it was French for England. The voice continued "Are you home?" A voice, spoken with a heavy French accent called at the door. With an annoyed growl, England got up and walked to the door. When the door was opened, he asked "What the bloody hell do you want, France?"

France was about the England's height, just a little bit taller, with shoulder length, very well done blonde hair. He had shiny blue eyes, eyes that long for romance, and a smirk on his face, a smirk that pissed the Englishman off. "Well?!"

The Frenchmen chuckled. "Oh oui! I've been hearing zee things about your loneness!" France continued "You're upset... You're not yourself!"

The British man looked to the ground, sad. France was telling the truth. "Why should you care?"

The Frenchmen gave the England a sympathetic look, and let out a sigh. "Over theze years, I haven't been the best brozer to you. I want to help you!.. Before you isolate yourself once more." What France didn't know, was that he was already too late. "Come live with me, In Paris!"

This shocked England! He took a long pause, and then spoke. "And if I refuse?"

France smirked, and handed his brother a plane ticket. "Oh! You won't~ Adieu!" That's when the French man walked away, not letting England protest. How confusing! He had always hated France. The long rivalry burned their love to ashes. Why does France care now? Why should he? ...There was only one thing that England knew about. That France was right. England couldn't refuse his offer, no matter how much he wanted to. England growled once more, and went inside, to start packing his bags.