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DISCLAIMER! I'M SO SORRY, IT'S SHORT- I WILL EXPLAIN WHY AT THE END, I SWEAR-
Characters: Fem!France and MALE!Russia.
Time: Present day.
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His eyes fluttered open as the sound of familiar birds sang their morning calls in the garden. He woke the same way every day. The same minute. As always he closed his eyes again, attempting to fall back into a deep slumber.
He shivered as a breeze came through the window and snuggled deeper into the duvet and the arms that encompassed him. France must have forgotten to close the window the night before after they'd spent the evening on the balcony.
The Russian felt his face heat up at the memory. Despite having been together for more than 100 years in the loop, the thought of the pretty Western European sets his cheeks aflame and his stomach to flutter in nervous excitement.
As if she knew he was thinking about her, he felt the French shift beside him. She mumbled something illegible and pulled the tall Slav's body closer to her.
He lets out a breathless laugh and lets himself be pressed against her chest. At last, Russia lets his eyes open fully as he listened to her steady heartbeat in her chest. His fingers drew out intricate patterns with a featherlight touch on her chest, being as careful as he could not to wake her. Although, knowing France, she was probably already awake and was just pretending. She did that a lot, especially in quiet loop mornings like this, just feigning sleep to make the moment last longer.
Moments like this were usual. Those two countries having to work a lot as leaders, they try to make the most time for each other.
France stroked a hand down Russia's back softly. The slav felt her caress comforting.
"Bonjour, mon trésor~" (Good morning, my treasure~) She said in a husky voice that was rough from sleep, her accent thick. He felt a shiver go through him at the nickname.
Russia tilted his head back and smiled at the sound of her voice, his heart swelling with affection. "Bonjour, ma chérie," he replied, his voice low and filled with tenderness, his own accent lending a deep richness to the words. He leaned in to press a gentle kiss to her lips, savoring the familiar taste of her.
It was moments like these that he cherished the most, the quiet intimacy shared between them before the demands of their respective nations called them away to political matters.
The French traced her fingertips along the contours of Russia's face, her touch tender and familiar. "Did you sleep well, mon amour?" she asked, her voice filled with genuine concern.
The taller nation nodded, his gaze softening as he looked into her eyes. "Yes, thanks to you," he murmured, his hand reaching up to intertwine with hers. "Being with you always brings me peace."
Eventually, he reluctantly pulled away, knowing that they both had duties to attend to. But before he could say anything, France spoke up, her voice soft but determined.
"Stay with me a little longer," she pleaded, her eyes searching his for reassurance.
Russia's heart melted at the vulnerability in her gaze, and without hesitation, he nodded, pulling her close once more. "Of course, любимая," (darling/beloved) he whispered, pressing a kiss to her forehead.
They lay together in comfortable silence for a while, basking in the warmth of each other's presence. Outside, the world stirred with the promise of a new day, but in their private sanctuary, time seemed to stand still.
The demands of their duties would call them away from this haven, but for now, they cherished the simple joy of being together, finding solace in the quiet moments shared between two souls bound by history and love.
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A/N: OK OK OK- YOU GUYS ARE PROBABLY ASKING "CÉCILE WTF?? WE WAITED FOR MONTHS THAT YOU UPDATE A WRITING AND WE GET THIS SHORT PIECE OF SHIT-?? LOOK- I S W E A R I'M WORKING ON YOUR REQUESTS AND TRUST ME THEY'RE TURNING OUT LONG- THAT'S WHY I WROTE THIS SHORT THING TO KEEP THIS BOOK ALIVE WHILE I'M WRITING THE LONGER ONES IN THE MEANTIME- THANK YOU FOR THE PATIENCE THOUGH, AND I APOLOGIZE AGAIN-
Thank you for reading~!
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