Hetalia Oneshots

[ℝ] Father! France x Preteen! R - Making Friends

Requested by ThatAnimeWeeb

You had a mother and a father, and from your young eyes, you saw them love each other dearly. To you, their relationship was (hashtag) goals. But it was all shattered when your mother died of an illness, leaving you and your father all alone.

Your father, the true Frenchman he was, decided that he was not going to get remarried. He only loved his late wife, and would love her only. And so, he singlehandedly took care of both you and himself.

He was a busy person, but he never failed to spend time with you, because he knew that a child needed love and attention more than anything else. He'd comfort and cheer you up when you were sad, sometimes he'd give you a dose of reality to toughen you up, but he always gave his all when it came to caring for you.

Your father's name was Francis Bonnefoy. He was of average height, he had beautiful blond hair which reached up to his shoulders (which made you quite jealous), blue eyes, a rather slim body, and was quite handsome for a man in his mid-thirties. And by profession, he worked as a fashion designer.

You, a twelve-year-old girl, looked up to your father like he was a hero. Of course, he was a gentleman of character, of good conduct, and was your one and only role model.

----

One afternoon, you came home from school as usual. Upon entering the house, the smell of something delicious cooking in the kitchen tickled your nose. You threw your backpack on the couch, pulled off your shoes, and went into the kitchen.

Francis was inside, frying something on the stove. He was still wearing his waistcoat, shirt, and pants, of course, covered by his apron. Your father always came home to cook lunch for you, even after you insisted that you could cook for yourself.

But then again, your dad cooked better than you did, so you couldn't complain.

"Dad, I'm home." you said, and he immediately whipped his head around to look at you.

"Welcome home." he grinned, "How was your day at school?"

"It was fine." You said a little grimly as you gave him a hug.

You would've said that it was boring since you didn't have friends, but you didn't. It was difficult for you to make friends, since you were very shy. People thought you were weird on top of all that, so even if you tried to talk to someone, they wouldn't even try to look interested.

It was a painful experience to be ignored like that, so you stopped trying.

"Was it really?" he asked as he ruffled your hair and then loosened the edges of the omelet he was frying.

"It was boring." You admitted. You didn't need tell him why, because he knew. Francis felt a little sad, because he didn't know how to help you.

"Don't worry." He smiled, "Just hold on a little longer and be patient, one day, you will get what you want so badly."

"Yeah." You nodded.

"Now stop sulking and worrying and start smiling." He poked your forehead and then quoted, "Worrying is like a rocking chair, it gives you something to do, but it won't get you anywhere."

"Also..." he quoted yet again, "Weeping may endure for the night, but joy comes in the morning."

"Do you understand?" he asked as he cut the omelet into two equal halves and plated them.