Country of love and wine, France. Even though he's the country of love, love often is a touchy topic for him.
He flirts with almost everyone that he meets, but he doesn't like being in love. Flirting is as far as he'll go. He might occasionally like someone more than just flirting with them, but he never says anything.
After falling in love with Joan, he couldn't bear loving anyone else. He knew that humans would soon die and that even though it takes longer, the same would happen to countries. After seeing how Italy felt after Holy Rome, he never wanted to be in that position.
Then, _____ came around.
_____ was a new country. To Francis, she was the most beautiful girl in the world. After her country hit her golden age, she grew and aged. She was about the same age as Francis and they became close friends.
No matter what Francis was doing or saying, _____ somehow worked her way into his mind.
He'd lay awake at night with his eyes wide open, staring at the ceiling, thinking of nothing but her. She plagued his mind like a virus.
Francis was reading his favorite book, (Your Favorite Book), sitting in his room and listening to music.
From the far side of his room, his phone rung. He put his book down and turned his music off.
He picked up, not looking at the caller ID, "Bonjour?"
"Francis!" _____ jumped, "I'm holding a party today and I was hoping that you could come."
Francis smiled when he heard her voice, "But of course. I couldn't not come to a party that I was invited to, now could I?"
"Thank you so much! I'll text you the information! Goodbye!"
"Au Revoir." He waited until he heard the phone hanging up from the other side. He held the phone to his ear for a while, hoping that maybe, if he wished hard enough, he could hear her voice just one more time.
Nonetheless, he knew it wouldn't happen and turned off his phone, setting it back onto the table and heading back to his reading.
His phone dinged.
____: Meet me at my house at 5:30. I'll make dinner.

~~~~Time Skip~~~~

Francis pulled up next to _____'s . There were no other cars in her driveway.
"Maybe I'm early." Francis muttered to himself.
He slowly shuffled up to the door and knocked. There was a loud banging inside which sounded like someone dropping a lot of metal. Soon, _____ opened the door.
"Oh! Francis, nice to see you!" She said as if she wasn't expecting him. She rubbed the back of her neck. She was dressed in a (f/c) t-shirt and black leggings that were covered by an apron, "Uh, come in!" Her mouth widened into a smile.
She gestured him inside and he stepped in. The whole house smelled of something wonderful.
Francis remembered that there were no cars in her driveway or anywhere else near _____'s house, "So, where is everyone?"
"Oh," her face went pink, "Well, I forgot to tell you that I didn't actually invite anyone else. Just you."
Francis smiled widely, "Well, there's just not enough of me to go around, is there?" He joked.
_____ giggled, "I suppose not! Alright, so I told you that I'd make dinner, so follow me." She waved him into the kitchen. The floor was littered with pots and pans and all of the ingredients were still left out on the counter. Francis glance over at _____ as she sighed. He noticed a bit of flour on the side of her face and wiped it off for her.
"I'm so sorry," she apologized, "when you knocked on the door, I was trying to put all of the supplies away. I didn't realize the time, so the knock scared the shit out of me. I dropped everything that I had in my hands."
"So that's the clanging I heard?" Francis paused, "Here I can help you clean up."
_____ shook her head and started to pick up a pan, "There's no need. You're my guest and I insist that you make yourself at home."
He hesitated, but found himself finally accepting it and sitting at the kitchen table. He watched as _____ slowly moved around the room. He'd strike up conversation from time to time, but nothing made him feel any more "at home".
At home, he'd be the one doing the dishes, he'd be the one putting away the food. It just didn't seem right letting _____ do all of the chores.
He quickly sat up and stood behind _____.
"Please," he whispered silently in her ear, "Let me help."
_____'s face went red as she felt Francis's breath tickle the hairs on the back of her neck. She slowly nodded and continued to scrub a pan, not speaking a word to Francis. He sighed and grabbed a plate and an extra sponge, washing away the grime on the cutting board.
Four hands definitely made things easier and go by faster. They were done in about five minutes.
_____ sighed and plopped down into a chair, "I can get dinner ready to eat if you'd like."
Francis nodded and helped her dish up the food.
Though, he did have something that was on his mind and he couldn't let it go.
"Hey, _____? How come you only invited me?" He asked as he sat down with his food.
She sat down at the table and hung her head.
"I was hoping you wouldn't ask so that I could manage up the courage to tell you."
"Tell me what?" Francis asked as he picked up his fork and took a small bite of his food.
"I have strong feelings for you. I can't deny them anymore." She put her hands in her lap and balled them into fists, "I've been trying to keep it a secret for the longest time... but I just can't anymore. You flirt with everyone that you meet, despite their race or gender and it makes me feel under-loved. I seem to be the only one that you don't do that with. Is there something wrong with me?"
She looks up at him and tears flow from her eyes and onto the table. Her face is hot and her cheeks are red. Francis could tell that she was genuinely upset.
He dropped his fork onto his plate, his mouth agape as he stared at her.
"The only reason I don't flirt with you is because I feel the same. I'm nervous that you'll take it the wrong way and refuse to hang out with me anymore. I don't want to ruin what we have."
He goes on to explain his fear of love and being loved. That it always somehow goes wrong. Either they break up, get into several arguments, or they live out their life together, but one of them has to bear living alone after the other one passes.
"It's just not right." He continues, "Love should be eternal."
_____ smiles a bit, "But it is. When you die, your love for someone doesn't die with you. You don't break up because you hate each other, you break up because there are issues and you haven't found the right person yet."
She wiped her tears on her sleeve and walks around the table to Francis's side, kneeling down beside him.
"And even if it isn't me, the right person is out there. You just have to experiment. Find what you like. I promise you, even if I die, or you die, that we'd still love each other. Even if it doesn't work out the way we want it to."
He stares longingly into her eyes. That's what he wanted, eternal love. Yet, it seemed so far until she put it that way. He leaned down and kissed her forehead.
"Thank you, ____. That's just what I wanted to hear." He paused, "I love you."