Reincarnation (Hetalia England x OC) SEE DEAR FRANCIS,

Writing

She sat at the victorian style, cream painted desk, a pen in hand and her journal in front of her. She thought for a moment, tilting her head from side to side, before pen hit paper.

Dear Francis,

I am happy to say I have now found a place to call home. The funny part is, I found it on accident, looking for shelter in a thunderstorm. I sat under the roof of a bakery, not thinking of getting caught, as I was too tired and wet to think in any way other than drunkenly, and woke up to find myself in the guest room of a man by the name Oliver Kirkland, who owned the bakery. He is quite nice, if I do say so myself, and has adopted me as his own, having figured out upon seeing me first I was a runaway. He did not try to ask questions on my past, either, allowing me to have the fresh start I wanted. By the way, the bakery is named Oliver's Cupcakery, and it is on 47th Street, London, just in case you find a way to come and meet me.

Secondly, I am pleased to say no police have come to get me yet. Apparently, it was not thought to be a big deal. Go figure, honestly. Only Valentina and you care enough about me in this life to actually look for me, and you two already know where I am. It would be hard to find me anyways, honestly, because I dyed my hair pure white and used colour contacts to make my eyes ice blue like they used to be. You may think white is an unnatural colour, and it very well is, but I can just excuse it by saying I am albino. Yes, not albinos have red eyes, Francis. They can have every eye colour imaginable, and so can every other human being.

Back on topic, I haven't the slightest idea of what memory to write to you about, so I suppose I shall tell you of a time I met Arthur at the docks...