France's Daughter // Hetalia

Chapter Five- To Flirt is to Breathe

France (Francis)

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"I hate to admit it, but that git America is right", England sighs, sitting on the couch, a bottle of unopened champagne in his hand. "You're stressing her out."

"Oui, I may be", I reluctantly agree, plopping down next to him- but not too closely. "Ahh.. Youngsters these days. I wish I could understand them."

"Aiyahh, just let the kid be. She's obviously fed up with her perverted father. She might even end up running away", China slurs happily, a faint blush spread across his cheeks. 

"Someone's had a little too much to drink", Germany speaks, and I'm not sure if he's referring to China or the Italian slung over his shoulder, grinning from ear to ear.

I sigh, pouring another glass of wine and chugging it. No use in being classy about it. England's taking small sips from his claimed bottle, and Russia is holding China so he doesn't get blackout drunk. I wonder if Charlie has gone to bed yet. I feel horrible- but she's far too young to be kissing boys! And Peter of all people!

"I think Peter and-a Bella would be cute together!", Italy giggles, kicking his feet in the air. "You ruined her childhood Papa France."

"Cute Italy, you'll never know the pain of watching such an elegant girl ruin her chastity over a boy like Peter", I sway in my seat, pouring another glass of wine. "I don't know what to dooo..."

Perhaps fat America was right. I'm smothering her. She's not sure how to be her own person, and it's driving her to lash out. Though, he didn't have to protest by not showing up. It's obvious sweet Charlie missed him. She seemed so distracted and lost. 

"I'll teach her how to flirt!", my eyes light up, and I grin happily. "I always thought I'd have to wait a few more years, but It's always alright to start early!"

"That's the stupidest-"

"Quiet, China. Let the frog make his own mistakes", England slurs, the bottle half empty. 

"This won't be a mistake. I'll give her a bit of freedom. Oh! I should enroll her in a unisex school, so she can hone her skills! Oh dear, I'm a gorgeous genius", I sigh blissfully. "Ma cherie is almost an adult..."

A hush falls over the room at the thought of Charlotte as an adult. I have to let her go once she turns eighteen. I'll enroll her in an ivy-league college, give her some cash, and send her on her way. She'll forget all about me, I'll forget all about her..

"Are you really going to let her go?", Germany asks, Italy paying close attention to his gelled back hair. 

"...I have no choice, do I?", I ask quietly, setting the glass down and leaning back. "I can't just watch her die."

Silence, again. Then, a change of subject. The evening continues, with every word dodging the question lingering on everyone's mind. 

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The Next Day, Sunday, 6AM

Charlotte (Charlie, Lottie)

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Matthew had left some time ago, maybe three or four. He had held me for hours. It felt nice to be in his warm, pale arms. We spoke, but about nothing important. 

Flashback

"Wh-What are you doing?"

I unzip my dress, and slide it down my shoulders. His face is bright red, and I find it funny. The cloth falls to the floor, and his eyes widen in disbelief and shock.