France's Daughter // Hetalia

Chapter Thirty-One- Progression Is Key

Charlotte (Charlie, Lottie)

One Month Later...

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Why am I still here, you ask? Simple. The cafe. 

I realized the morning I was supposed to move out, that Francis and Arthur wouldn't be taking care of the cafe. So, I'm renting an apartment under a pseudonym and fake I.D from my early days with Bryce, and working on the cafe. So far, I've re-painted the walls, added a few more posters and chairs, and all around cleaned the place out. 

Arthur sometimes comes to visit, and I bake him some sweets. We'll chat, ask each other how we're doing, what we've been up to, and then he'll help me decorate and clean. It's quite fun. Oh! I changed the sign, too! It now reads "Charlie's Cafe." Of course, I keep a big framed photo of Mrs. Lola inside, right next to the register, which I've just recently learned how to use thanks to the internet. 

As far as I'm concerned, the cafe is finished. I just have to open up, put some sweets on the display, and learn how to brew up coffee. Easy peasy! 

"So, Lottie, when do you think we'll be able to see the grand opening?", Arthur asks, sitting at the counter and snacking on some macarons. 

"Who's we?", I ask, taking some baking supplies out of boxes and organizing them in the correct drawers. "-Because Francis isn't welcome here."

He waits a minute before responding. "It hurts him a lot when you don't call him 'Papa'. He raised you, love. Even if he's not biologically your father, he still loves you. How do you think adoption works?"

"Well, it hurts me a lot when he lies about important shit", I snap, giving him a quick glare before continuing what I was doing. "I'll talk to him when he finally tells me what he's been hiding. You're just sticking up for him 'cause you two are doin' it."

"Lottie!", He cries, embarrassed and humiliated. I snicker, glancing at his beet red face. Quickly, he clears his throat, looking away. "It's not like that, anyways."

"Mhm. Sure. Whatever you say, mon ami", I wink, taking a tray of opera cake from the display case. "Man.. I've had no customers yet."

"Perhaps it's because you don't know how to make coffee... Or because you haven't flipped the sign from 'Closed' to 'Open'?"

I look towards the door, and groan loudly. I've been a little absent-minded lately, and it's starting to effect my work. I walk over to the door to flip the sign, and peer out the glass. 

"Hey! Customers! Wait.. Is that-"

Before I can finish my sentence, Alfred comes bursting in, Kiku being dragged close by his side. "I heard you opened up a restaurant dude!", he screams, looking around expectantly. 

"It's not a restaurant!", I stamp my foot against the tile, and flip the sign quickly. "It's a cafe!"

He throws himself next to Arthur at the counter, and immediately starts messing with him, much to the Brit's chagrin. I just laugh, and look at Kiku, who seems terrified. 

"Come sit, come sit", I lead him to the counter, three empty seats left. "What can I get you guys? You're my first customers!", My eyes shine brightly, and I whip out a notepad. 

"One cup of joe, Miss!", Alfred says in an old-timey New-Yorker accent, earning an eye roll. I guess today's the day I figure out how the cappuccino machine works. 

"Nothing for me, arigatou."

I glare at Kiku, and he shifts in his seat nervously. Quickly, I pull out a plate of caneles, and pass it towards him. "Five euros."