We Don't Care (Gerpol)

Chapter 10

Germany's P.O.V.

(Okay there was a time skip so now France and Germany are at his house :>)

I clicked on the TV, opening Netflix. "You can choose the movie," I say, and walk off to the kitchen to prepare the popcorn.

I guess she must have already chosen one because I hear her walk over to me. Without speaking, the French country hugs me from behind. I pat her hand with a smile.

The microwave drones on, spinning the bag around and around. It stays flat for a while before there's a pop. Then another. And another. Then there are so many pops it overwhelms the bag and it springs up. Even though the situation is in no way related to him, I think of Poland. His eyes. His smile. Suddenly my mind is flooded and taken over with images of him.

The loud ding brings me back to reality. The light that was once in the microwave goes out to signal it's finished as if you weren't already alerted enough.

France grabs a bowl and I take the bag out of the microwave, careful to hold it by the edge. I pour the snack into the bowl and we both make our way to the sofa in front of the television.

It turns out France has chosen "Mirror mirror". Being the bookworm I am, I have next to no idea about what this movie is until it goes to a mirror. Of course. It's a live-action remake of Snow White.

I munch on a handful of popcorn and feel the French country snuggle up next to me. It feels nice, the extra warmth. Then she inches her way onto my lap. Nothing we haven't done before, but this time it feels...

...weird.

I swallow my confusion. Maybe it's just the rip-off live-action remake. Those always get to me.

I rest my head on her baret. She reaches up a hand to touch my face. Before I know it, she's leaning upwards for a kiss.

I push my doubts aside and kiss her. At first, it's light, but after we part for air we go back again. Her tongue finds mine in an elaborate French kiss. But a feeling inside my gut stirs. It upsets me to the point where I pull back.

We're both breathing heavily, but I can tell there's a sense of awkwardness in the air.

"This is wrong," I blurt out suddenly. I cover my mouth with my hands. France gives me a confused look.

"Sorry, I-" I try to apologize, but she puts a finger to my lips. "It's okay, ma puce. Just tell me." Surprisingly, I find empathy in her gaze, but I decided to tell her.

"I don't know what it is, I just...I don't think a kiss is supposed to feel like that. I'm so sorry, really. It's probably my fault," I add hurriedly, but France shakes her head, and there's something like a laugh creeping its way onto her face.

"The funny thing is, I feel exactly the same way," She admits. I breathe a huge sigh of relief.

"You...you do?" I say. France nods. "Yes."

"To be honest, I never felt like I could tell you because I didn't want you to be heartbroken." I nod quickly. "Yes, exactly!"

We both laugh. "Who knew we could've felt the same way," She adds. I chuckle.

"So does that mean...?" "Yes, we can break up if you want."

I bust into another laugh. What a hilarious way to break up with your girlfriend. She giggles.

"So who's the guy?" I ask after a while. France blushes, looking down and fiddling with her fingers. "Uh...Britain." She mumbles bashfully. I smile. "He'll be so lucky to have you." She smiles. "And who's the girl?"

I hang on her last words. Girl.

"Actually...I don't know yet. I just know that..." I search for the word. France nods slowly, putting a hand on my shoulder. "We're not meant to be?" She finishes for me.

"Yeah," I say. But I do know. It's Poland.

Tears spring into my eyes. "I'm so grateful...You're such a g-great friend...No one e-else would have done this f-for me..." The tears are flowing now, leaving stains on the sofa. I can tell by now the chance of holding it in are scarce. France's eyes glaze over, too. "I'm just happy you confided in me," She whispers.

I break down, leaning forward for her to hug me. I cry into her shoulder, smelling the sweet perfume scent. She rubs my back, squeezing me tightly.

We remain in each others grasp for a long time. No one says anything.

I turn the truth over and over in my head. Poland. Poland. I broke up with France for Poland.

Then a realization hits me. It's so fast and sudden it's like being hit by a car. I stop crying abruptly to consider this possibility:

What if Poland doesn't like me back?

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eyyy short chapter tho qwq

hhhhh I just kinda wanna go back and forth between P.O.V.'s

which probably isn't the best thing to do in a story so sorryyy

but thanks for all the comments! They're really funny and cute and I love reading them uwu

so until the next chapter have a gud day/night ( uwu)/