FrUK Drabbles

The Heart's True Colors ~ Fruk

"-BLOODY IMMATURE PERVERT!"
The Englishman shouted, his hands clenched into tight fists as his emerald eyes glared daggers at his long time friend/enemy/lover.

They had recently gotten in a fight, which wasn't uncommon for the two, but this one seemed more serious than others. It had all started when England caught France flirting with a girl, which wasn't uncommon, either.

England began to yell at France, and the two had gotten in one of their famous fights, England calling him names and insulting him, France playing the innocent card, claiming he did nothing wrong.

"Non, l'Angleterre, mon amour! You're the only true one for me!"
The Frenchie cried, begging the stubborn Brit for forgiveness. While he still felt that he had done nothing wrong, he felt it would be safest to play it safe and just ask for forgiveness.

"No, Francis! I'm tired of your constant flirting with everyone! What are we, enemies? Friends? Lovers? Make up your mind!" Arthur shouted, pointing his finger accusingly at the Frenchman.

"We're lovers! I love you more than anyone else! Please!!" He cried in return, gripping England's arms tightly, his blue eyes pleading with the other man.

"... I'm sorry, but I just can't believe that..."

England pulled away from France, walking out of the door. A few warm tears snaked their way down his face, yet he didn't care. Getting in the car and slamming his door, he placed his face in his hands and wiped away his tears, shaking his head.

'No. Now is not the time for crying...'
His mind chided.

"We're lovers! I love you more than anyone else! Please!!'" Francis's last words played in his mind as he started the car. He would have to find out for himself if this was true or not.

~~~TIME SKIP~~~

England relentlessly searched through his large library, finally settling on an old, worn, leather book. His black cloak billowed out behind him as he quickly walked towards the basement where he casted all of his spells.

He fumbled through the stale pages, finally settling on the page he wanted. If casted properly, he could view all the past lovers of a certain person.

England set up the circle, tossing the chalk to the side, he began to chant.

"Santo Rita Mita Meada Ringo Jonah Tito Marlon Jack La Toya Janet Michael Dumbledora The Explorer Santo Rita Mita Meada Ringo Jonah Tito Marlon Jack La Toya Janet Michael Dumbledora The Explorer! Show me the spirits of the past lovers of France, or Francis Bonnefoy!" He began to glow with a green light as he finished his chant.

The chalk drawn circle began to glow with the same light as the Brit. The light began to condense in the shape of a young woman. When she fully condensed, her color was somewhat faded and bland, yet England still knew that face.

He could never forget it.

That face still haunted his nightmares, that face was his biggest regret.

"Jeanne..." He whispered under his breath, surprised. He had expected more people, to show up, and he certainly hadn't expected Joan to show up.

The ghost of Jeanne D'Arc, or Joan of Arc, smiled sadly at England.

"Oui, Angleterre, it's me." She said, her voice muffled, like she was talking through a thick curtain.

"B-but... I don't understand! He's bloody France! Shouldn't the room be filled with people guys(notice I said people, not girls)?" He asked, utterly shocked by the fact that only one person had been summoned.

"Non. He has only ever truly loved two people. Me, and you." She replied, her voice bittersweet.

"But what about all the people he flirts with?"

"Non, he doesn't love them like he loves us. He loves everyone and everything, and merely wishes to brighten their lives with compliments. He just wishes for them to know that at least one person loves them. But he truly loves you." She smiled, her hand reaching out to cup his face.
"Oh, Angleterre, if only you could see how much you mean to him..."

"How can you be so nice to me, after all I've done to you?! To him?!" He cried, his hand passing through her ghostly one.

"I merely wish the best for Francis. When I was alive, I was his love. He was kind and sweet to me, and I loved him. Then, you came and took me away from him. But I have forgiven you, and he has too. Yet, have you forgiven yourself? I was his love, and I filled the void in his heart. It's funny, the Country of Love can't find love..." Joan laughed bitterly, tears pricking at the edges of her eyes. "I need you to fill my role. Francis is a kind, gentle man, yet he's also weak and fragile. He needs love, and you have to fill that role. I know that it's a large job, but you've brought this upon yourself... Please, it's my last wish, Angleterre..." The misty ghost pleaded with the Brit, tears now streaming down her face.

"I-I just want him...

To be happy..." Her already quiet voice fading fast as her ghostly form flickered, the spell was wearing off.

"Fulfil my last wish, Angleterre. You owe it to me..."
And with that, the spirit of Jeanne D'Arc disappeared.

England sobbed and fell to his knees, crushed under the weight of the job he had been assigned. Yet... He seemed to actually be looking forward to his new job.

"I-I will... Joan... I will..." He sobbed, wiping his eyes. He walked upstairs, tiredly throwing his cloak on the couch along with his spell book. He wiped his face and tugged on his coat, prepared to his job he was gonna do.

He smiled as he looked at his car, looking forward to what the future held.

Maybe...

Maybe loving France wouldn't be as bad as he thought it would be...

(EL FIN. HELLO THIS IS THE FIRST OF MANY FICS TO COME. MOST WILL PROBABLY BE FRUK/SPAMANO/GERITA/ROCHU AND RANDOM ADVENTURES. HAVE FUN READING!! <3

-RONO)