France's Daughter // Hetalia

Chapter Twenty-Two- Call Me Back XoXo

Charlotte (Charlie, Lottie)

11:47PM

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"He hasn't even texted yet!!", I scream, kicking the light post with as much force as I can muster. "No call, no nothing!!"

"Maybe he's-a feeling under the weather, you know? Caught a cold!", Feli wearily tries to reassure me as I wince in pain, rubbing my foot delicately.

There's nobody on the streets, and only occasional, distant twitter from owls reminds me that we're still outside, relaxing at a vacant table at the cafe. The owner, a plump woman with rosy cheeks and the cheeriest smile I've ever seen, gave me permission to lock up for her. Said she's seen me around so much, and knows my Dad well enough- She also offered me a job there, when I wanted one! 

But right now, I don't care about that- My dream job- Because Bryce hasn't Texted Me Back. Even if he fell ill, he'd let me know, so why!? Why hasn't he texted me back!?

I run my fingers through my hair and let out a frustrated groan before plopping down on the chair beside Feli. He pats my back softly, and ruffles my hair.

"Cheer up, Bella! He'll call you", He grins from ear to ear, but I can't help but get the feelings he's not entirely confident. 

"Yeah... Right...", I mumble, resting my chin on my palm. "...Can you keep a secret?"

"You can count on me!"

I look at him. Such a quick response- but I trust him. He's a bit trigger happy, but I'm sure he'd keep a secret as big as this. I lean in slowly, and he does the same, until I'm practically kissing his ear. 

"I had sex last night", I whisper as quietly as possible, before pulling away. 

He freezes for a moment, processing my confession. Perhaps he'll run to Papa, crying and screaming. Maybe he'll even ridicule me and yell at me. I feel the anticipation build up, and await harsh remarks when he opens his lips to speak.

"Ve! How was it?"

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France (Francis)

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"What are you doing?", I ask, standing up from the couch.

England was dragging two heavy suitcases down the stairs, each filled to the brim. The coat I bought him a few centuries back for Christmas is dangling from his shoulders, signifying his leave... but where is he going? And why is he packed? 

"You're going on vacation? Oh, Angleterre, you've done nothing but lay around! What could you possibly need a vacation fo-"

"I'm moving out."

I freeze, my eyebrows furrowing in confusion as I watch him walk towards the door. He whips out his keychain, and throws his copy of my house key towards me. I scramble to catch it, but not without a moment's hesitation.

"What do you mean you're moving out?"

He whips his head towards me, his face more hurt than angered. With flushed cheeks, and tears threatening his waterline, he barks back.

"Lottie can't even stand to look at me! You won't talk to me about us, and after that little stunt in the kitchen, I don't think I want to be around you any longer!"

He holds my gaze for just a second longer, before grabbing the doorknob. Quickly, I move to grip his wrist, and block his exit. He stumbles back subtly, before letting out a frustrated sigh. I'm not letting him get away. I've said it before, I'll say it again- over, and over, and over again...