Remember Me: A Hetalia Fanfic

Chapter 11

I hope you enjoy the pic of drunk England...

France's POV:

It had been a long, tiring day, catching the eyes of French girls.

Even on top of that, I had to meet up with some of the other countries again to discuss the whole 'Holy Rome' and 'Sarah' situation.

I did want to help Italy with all of his lovesickness, especially feeling sad for him from the long gone empire that he obviously loved to his now gone brother.

I also had to deal with the feminine versions of most of us countries being sucked back into our dimension, as well as the fact that Italy had been constantly calling me, sad out of his mind because of the 'disappearance' of his brother.

'More like death,' I thought sadly.

I wished to possibly even watch the Italian accept his feelings for the German, as well as the other way around. That is to say, if they hadn't already discovered so and, well, 'sealed it up' so to speak.

I just had a passion for love, what could I say? In my opinion, if Holy Rome truly left him, Italy deserved better. He deserved to be loved.

I figured that since I had worked so hard for the day, I deserved a nice, relaxing treat.

So I thought...

Why not go down to the bar with some friends?

It would be fun, and plus, it would help me ease my nerves over the big ordeal with Sarah, Romano, and Holy Rome.

It would also help me get my mind off of my slightly less blossoming feelings for England, which were being brought down thanks to his obvious feelings for America an the way he always said thins that hurt me, even unintentionally.

I had been aware that America, Alice, Sarah, Canada, Marguerite, and England had crossed the French border earlier; I was the one that had granted them permission. But what I didn't understand was why they crossed my border.

I picked up my house phone, and called up Prussia, inner on going out for a drink with the Trio.

Ring... Ring... Ring... Ring...

Was he even going to answer?

Ring... Ring...

Finally, the ringing stopped and a familiar rough voice was audible.

"Hello, zhis is zhe awesome Prussia speaking," the voice at the other end said.

"Ah, mon ami, I was worried you weren't going to answer! I was wondering if you wanted to go out to zhe bar down my street wit' me?"

"Zhe bar? Sure! Can Spain make it? I'm sure he needs it to be in better spirits!"

"I was just about to call 'im and ask."

"Alright, I, zhe awesome Prussia, vill see you zhere!" he exclaimed with something in his tone that I had felt too.

I faked a smile as I ended the phone call, and made a new call to Spain.

He, however, picked up on the first ring.

"Ah, ¡mi amigo! ¿Còmo estas? It's-a been a while," he stated, his voice in lower spirits than usual, (indicating that he was upset) and slightly cracking from what had happened to his friend.

Calling Romano his 'friend' was a little bit o an understatement. He was probably better known as the one who Spain had cared for more than himself.

It was obvious that he had a horrible case of heartache.

"Oui, I 'ave been busy with myself, " I paused, then asked, "I was wondering if you would like to go out to zhe bar down my street wit' Prussia and I?"