La Bataille de Nos Cœurs (Fruk)

6

1792

"Mr. France?..."

"What?"

"He is here... you said you wanted to be notified when that happened..."

"Right! Thank you!"

Before wars were started, they get declared in various ways. Since I declared war on England, it was now his turn. I've heard the ecstatic behavior of people all over, excited that Mr.England had finally shown his face after so long. However, that idiot only got cockier. I was eager to hear him declare war on me, strangely enough.

I began to follow one of my men in that direction. I was sure he had an army waiting for me. He led me to the open field where a singular tent was set up in the center. He must have been there. "He is there, ready to give a statement for your declaration," the soldier spoke. I nodded at what he said and began to walk alone. I approached the tent slowly, withdrawing my dagger if he tried to attack me again.

"Mr. England?" I spoke. I slowly opened the curtain, and to my surprise, he wasn't wearing those pirate clothes anymore. A few months passed, and I knew he had finally shown himself to everyone again, but I did not think he would change his clothing for his Crown. I felt he was more rebellious like that.

"Ah! I realize you had been waiting for me, but I wanted to take my sweet time," He laughed. He sat on top of the table, crossing his legs. He looked more like an English Noble. "Yes...you look different. I was given the impression you changed your clothing for a reason; now you are back to your old, new look," I spoke.

He crossed his arms, groaning at my comment. "My clothes are the last thing you should be worrying about. I never took you for one to let yourself go. You always decorated yourself in frilly clothing, and now...you look like you are only wearing one layer of clothing," he laughed. He laughed so hard at me that he pointed and slapped his knee.

"Well, I can't wear extravagant things when my people suffer...also, I would like to avoid being punched across the face," I tried to defend myself. It was true! My economy was bad enough; I couldn't afford to wear nice things anymore. Not that it was a huge concern of mine...did I miss it? Sure! I loved wearing those nice things...but my people were starving! Besides! Women and men from all backgrounds find it appealing to wear fewer clothes! I even told Russia and Prussia the same thing when they asked me last year.

England continued to laugh at me. He uncrossed his legs and leaned back against the table. "God, that is hilarious. Who knew that America's dumb influence would convince your people to rise? Let me guess, you tried to ask him for help, and he rejected you? That is why you are suffering more?" He laughed. My jaw dropped, and I felt my face getting red. How did he...

"I WAS SOOOO RIGHT! FRANCE! I know you like the back of my hand! I can read you like a book!" he laughed. God, he was an idiot and getting on my nerves. "Seriously? What happened to you? you've gotten obnoxious!" I complained. He stopped laughing suddenly and began inspecting his nails.

"Ah, what an odd question when I thought it would be clear..."

"Hardly..."

"Even after all of these years, you still are gullible," he laughed. He was starting to annoy me more, and I walked closer to him, shoving him. "If you are here to declare war on me, do it!" I spoke. I had gotten closer, and he noticed. He looked me up and down and rolled his eyes. He opened his legs more so his knees would not touch me and still looked annoyed.

"I will destroy you...and not because I am bloodthirsty or crazy. I will do it because I want to laugh at your downfall...I will do anything that would cause you trouble."

"Seriously...I can't tell if you sound crazy or not...maybe petty?"

He began laughing once more and suddenly pulled me forward by the collar of my shirt. "Ah, we are no longer friends or anything good. I take you down during this war and laugh as you cry," he smirked. Was I into this?

He pulled me closer and looked down at my shirt. "I, Great Britain hereby declare..." he began to run his hands through my hair, and I regret to say that it felt amazing. I felt myself coming closer toward him, seeing the smirk on his face grow. He came closer to my face, pressing his cheek against mine. I had frozen from the sudden closeness but did not object to it.

"War...on the Republic of France," he whispered in my ear. He grabbed a hand full of my hair, pulling it. "Does that make you happy?" he asked. My face was getting hot, and I felt like a part of me would abandon everything to stay with him, including my religion.

He pulled my hair back, and I looked at him, shocked. "I look forward to crushing you," he spoke. He began to rub my cheek a bit, pushing me away finally. "Well, I better not keep you waiting..." I laughed nervously. Of course, I wasn't going to go easy on him, but I did want to avoid everything. "I hope that once you have gotten some fighting out of your system, you will hear me about a treaty. I realize you will not consider it right now," I added.

He stood up from where he had been sitting and smiled, giving me a thumbs-down. "You bet! Maybe one day I will consider it, but right now, I have a lot of pent-up rage!" he cheered. I rolled my eyes at him as he began to walk toward the curtain to leave. "Of course..." I breathed out. I could never catch a break.

"Oh! Although you look funny in those clothes, I think they look nice on you. I am sure it would be easy for you to strip in them," he spoke. What? Was that the only thing running through his head during our discussion? "Be well, France. You are going to need it!" he hummed. He laughed as he left the tent, and I felt annoyed. "Be well, my ass!"