Charlotte (Charlie, Lottie)
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I know what's going on upstairs. First, there were footsteps- many of them, clashing about and stomping- and then there was silence. Of course, I'd rather not imagine it, but I know whats happening. A bit disgusting to do something like that while I'm here, but no matter. All I care about now is my Opera cake, made to perfection!
Just how do i politely interrupt the two lovebirds upstairs? It would be a bit awkward just knocking.. they'd know I know, and I don't want them to know I know. But maybe they already know I know but also know that I don't want them to know I know so they just haven't come downstairs yet.
Ah- Here they come!
I cough, and pretend to reorganize the already decorated and set table. The two blonde men look disheveled- and drained. Must have been some hour. Perhaps they ended up fighting? Papa has a few marks and bruises on his cheeks and arms, and Arthur seems pissed. Not my place- er, not my interest at the moment. Just try my damn cake!
"Ah, Arthur, Papa, just in time", I grin, motioning to the table.
I even lit the candles!
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France (Francis)
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Oh sweet Charlie. I wish I could focus on your dessert, I really do, but the Brit beside me is hogging all my attention. Teasing me like that, and then changing his mind! Yelling and screaming that I was a pervert, even attacking my beau face!
Mon dieu, what a bipolar shit head!
Just when I thought I was getting somewhere. Angleterre, why are you so afraid of succumbing to my charms?
"Have a seat, have a seat! You're gonna love this, it's a classic Opera cake!", Charlie motions us to the chairs, and I notice a passion in her eyes I've never quite noticed before.
I took my seat, England lagging behind a bit. Oh, so now he's giving me the cold shoulder? How mature. I hope he ends up all alone with his little make-believe friends! What a child.
"You made this all by yourself, Lottie?", England piped up, admiring the fine details she put into the display of dessert. "It looks amazing."
Oh sure, talk to Charlie but not me.
"Oui, it looks amazing", I compliment her, and she perks up a bit- I can tell she's anxious.
I take the first bite, a bit hesitantly. I awaited the need to display a fake smile, nodding my approval- but no, the cake is magnifique! So delicate and fluffy- Oh I raised a baker!
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Charlotte (Charlie, Lottie)
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The amount of compliments Papa and Arthur gave me were overwhelming. I wasn't expecting them to like it that much- but I'm not complaining! This is such a huge step for me! Maybe Papa will even let me host Thanksgiving, and make the desserts! Oh, I can't wait to tell Bryce!
Oh... Wait... Nevermind...
A sudden dread falls over me, plummeting my mood with it. I shouldn't think about him- I'm living out my passion, here! Yet, I miss him so much. Why now? Why did I have to think about him now of all times? God damn it..
I quickly excuse myself, rushing to the bathroom before any protestations held me back. I know it caught the two off guard- but I could just blame it on trying the raw batter. I try not to slam the door behind me, but the sudden rush of anxiety makes it a bit hard to do anything gently. I look in the mirror, rub my eyes, pinch my cheeks, and try to recognize the girl in front of me. This is a product of Bryce. Before, I was a product of Papa. Will I ever be a product of myself? Will I ever have that amount of independence? Is anyone really their own person, though?
All these thoughts are clashing in my head, pounding against the walls of my skull and sending a shooting pain throughout my veins. I can't stand it- just when I thought I was finally able to pursue something I really love, all the doubt, anxiety, and fear comes back. Why is this happening to me, of all people? Is it because I don't have a Mama? I've read that that factors into a child's mental health.. but am I mentally unstable? I don't think so- but I don't know anything about any of that.
Papa said that Mama left us. I never asked him about it- I made sure to hold my tongue to protect his fragile feelings- but when has he protected my feelings? He sure has no problem bashing Bryce, when he knows he was just a stupid mistake. He has no problem kicking me out after not letting me live a normal life!
No. I can't be mad. I can't reminisce over the bad times. I need to stay positive, not for Papa, not for Arthur- but for myself.
Hey, at least Thanksgiving will be better.
YOU ARE READING
France's Daughter // Hetalia
FanficBeing born and raised in beautiful Paris by none other than Francis Bonnefoy should be a treat- right? I mean, the man is LOADED, he's handsome, clever, caring... Well, it's a bit different when it comes to his little girl Charlotte. Found as a baby...
