Hetalia Oneshots

France - Evening of Love

Song: Je te laisserai des mots - Patrick Watson

Art by kaivvva.lofter.com 

It was a rainy night in Paris, and you were bundled up in the blankets on the couch in your boyfriend, Francis' apartment. 

It was Valentine's Day, and both of you had just had a date at a nice restaurant. Francis wanted to treat you to a lavish dinner, and you wanted to treat him with tickets to his favourite classical music concert.

From the couch, you watched him emerge from the kitchen with candles and matches. He smiled at you as he moved to the coffee table, where there was a three branched candlestand; he fixed the candles in it, struck a match and lighted them.

Their soft glow filled the room with gentle light, and with the soft patter of rain outside, and the presence of your favourite person in the room, you felt warmed and comfortable.

Francis went back to the kitchen and came back out with a mug of the most luxurious and thick French hot chocolate topped with some whipped cream and some chocolate sprinkles.

"Here you go, my dear," he said, handing you the mug, "Enjoy,"

"Thank you, Francie," you giggled, watching him sit down next to you.

As soon as he was seated, you rested your head on his shoulder and sipped the hot chocolate.

"Do you like it?" he asked.

"Amazing as always," you replied, licking some of the cream that had lodged itself on the corner of your mouth.

"This is a comfortable way to spend Valentine's isn't it?" he put his arm around you and started playing with your hair.

"I know what would make it more comfortable," you replied.

"What would that be?"

You pointed at the electronic keyboard on the side, "Play something,"

"Your wish is my command," he kissed you. 

You giggled and both of you moved to the keyboard. You took a chair and sat next to him while he sat down on the stool and switched on the keyboard. 

He wriggled his fingers a little bit and looked at you with a smile, "I will be playing 'Je te laisserai des mots' and it's dedicated to my girlfriend, _____," 

You smiled gleefully as you sat cross-legged on the chair and sipped the chocolate. He took a deep breath and started to play the music.

Je te laisserai des mots
En-dessous de ta porte
En-dessous de les murs qui chantent
Tout près de la place où tes pieds passent

The singing, music, the chocolate, the rain, and the candlelight increased the feeling of warmth in your chest. The music was perfect for the rainy evening, warm and bright, yet gentle as a softly blowing breeze.

You sighed and rested your chin on his shoulder; the feeling of another's body against yours, and the vibrations of his voice was comforting. The music from the concert you both attended earlier did not even come near to how beautifully Francis played.

Cachés dans les trous de ton divan
Et quand tu es seule pendant un instant

You watched as his fingers masterfully played, and you used your own fingers to lightly trace his arm, knowing full well how it made him jittery. He eyed you for a moment, smiling at your mischief. But he was focused on the music, and you soon stopped.