Rebirth (Hetalia X Reader)

Chapter 12

"I'm going to have to have you do dishes tonight, (Y/n)." Francis informs me apologetically as he whisks a sweet smelling sauce over the stove. "My dishwasher has called in sick and we're swamped... I believe that's an English expression, isn't it?"

"Yes it is," I smile at him. "And I don't mind doing the dishes. I'm just happy being off the streets."

Francis smiles softly. I roll up my sleeves at the dishwashing station and slip on the pair of bright yellow rubber gloves that were hanging over the edge of the sink and get to washing the many dishes that had already begun to pile up.

===

Once the restaurant had closed, the flow of dishes stopped. My arms had started to get tired after hours of scrubbing but I pressed on, actually enjoying the feeling of manual labour. "Let me help you." Francis steps up beside me and picks up a dirty plate.

"Thanks." I smile over at him. We wash together in silence for a few moments before Francis speaks up.

"Did Marianne protest much this time?" He asks, his mouth pulled up into a slight smirk.

"About me coming to work with you?" I keep your eyes on the bowl I'm washing. "Not really." I shrug.

"Ah that's good. May I ask why not?" He presses.

"It's my birthday." I smile awkwardly. "I don't usually tell people that." But somehow I felt comfortable telling Francis. I glanced up at him and he had a nostalgic smile on his face...as if he already knew that it was my birthday.

"The 6th of January," He says so quietly I almost don't hear him. "Joyeux anniversaire."

I smile down at my hands.

===

The sound of muffled, angry French wakes me up. At first I think it's just Marianne with a client role-playing or something but I start to hear words I recognize and sit up.

"... ai mare..!" Marianne's sweet voice is sharp and strained.

"J'aime... aider." A deeper male voice answers her calmly. I immediately recognize the voice as Francis'. "Elle le..!" He snaps. The conversation is obviously shut down. A moment later I hear our front door slam, the glass in my window rattling slightly.

Marianne let's out an annoyed huff and then I hear glass shatter somewhere out in the kitchen. I lay paralyzed in my bed, knowing that when Marianne is in a foul mood things get broken and people get hurt. So I lay silently in bed staring at the dark ceiling until I hear Marianne's bedroom door slam shut. As soon as it does I reach over to my bedside table and flick on my cellphone.

Is everything alright? I heard you and Marianne fighting...

You shoot the text off to Francis. It only takes him a minute to answer.

Yes everything is alright. Marianne is just a little possessive over you 😅

I smile slightly and type an answer.

I think she may have broken a plate or something after you left. Too afraid to go check 😨😨

He answers immediately.

She'll calm down quickly, ma chérie, there's no need to worry!

I stare at my screen and re-read the term of endearment he'd just used for me. It made my heart race in a good way.

You seem to know her well.

It takes a little longer for him to answer this time.

We've been neighbours for five years. I was in a bad place back when I first met her and stayed with her for a night... she ignored me since then but after I met you I suppose I came back into her life then too.

My heart sinks a little when I read that he's slept with Marianne. Of course I don't blame him. She's beautiful and graceful and perfect just like Francis. And it was five years ago.

We don't usually see our customers after it's all done. I only have a few regulars as does Marianne. It's just strange seeing them elsewhere so we tend to ignore them.

I send the message.

Do you think she has feelings for you?

I add as an after thought. It almost takes a full ten minute for Francis to answer and I briefly wondered if he's fallen asleep. It is three in the morning after all...

I don't care. I only feel for you.

My heart skips a beat. And my fingers shake as I type my response.

But I'm a prostitute.

It feels as if my stomach is going to force it's way up my throat and out my mouth. I finally meet someone who I like and who likes me back but what I do could send it all down the drain. Why, oh why did I have to pick this as a job? If only I'd tried harder to find decent w-

My phone vibrates at Francis' response.

You're (Y/n). You're a physics student from (country) who needs to pay rent and her tuition. You have two jobs which are both legal and for which I will never judge you.

My heart swells and tears spring to my eyes. I throw off my covers and drop my phone on the beside table before slipping off my bed and out of my room. With a pounding chest, I leave my appartement and cross the hallway to knock on Francis' door.

As soon as he opens it, I reach up and cup his jaw, pulling him into a kiss. He reacts immediately and pulls me inside, our mouths still linked. The door clicks shut and Francis gently pushes me up against the wall. His hands cup the back of my head and his fingers grip at my hair. I lace my finger through his silky golden locks before coming up for air.

We stare into each other's eyes, still holding on tightly to one another. "(Y/n)," He sighs. With him this close I can see small flecks of brown in his blue irises. He drops his arms around my waist and leads me deeper into the apartment. We reach his bedroom and Francis let's go of me. We move to opposite sides of the bed and get under his thick duvet.

Once we're both in bed, Francis pulls me towards him so our chests and abdomens are pressed together and our legs intertwined. I press my face against his collar bone and he turns his nose down into my hair. "Dors." He murmurs. I close my eyes and am lulled to sleep by the sound of his steady breathing.