yousei-san (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
flair) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
metamorphosis2010-05-24 04:47 am
flair) wrote in metamorphosis2010-05-24 04:47 am
Entry tags:
110;
Title: Carpe Diem
Characters: France, England
Rating: G
Secretly for LJ's 64damn_prompts 'seize the day'.
When England wakes up after a bad night, France greets him from the doorway with a blown kiss and a wink, tilt of the head and 'bonjour'. England's response is to groan, turn over in bed, and whine out an excuse about 'his bloody headache'. He's never so lucky for France to just leave him alone, no, because le pays d'amour always returns with a cup fizzy water and Aspirin. With that French idiot standing-- no, sitting right there, he couldn't just not take it, right? So he always does, regardless if he actually has a headache or not.
When England finally gets out of bed, letting the blanket slip softly from around his tangled legs and prompting him to find some underwear, he always makes sure France has left. It isn't out of embarrassment he sends him out of the room, of course not, there was nothing to be embarrassed about. It is out of-- well, never mind, England has no idea what for, but he just does, so there. It doesn't stop him from turning around after at least finding the pair he was wearing last night and seeing France at the door with a plate of eggs benedict.
Damn appearances, damn them to hell and back, because by the time he's fully dressed in clothes drenched with the sticky smell of yesterday, the food is gone, eaten and cleaned and France is gone, out to the fresh market that was peaceful on such early mornings. England sits and waits at the table, passing the time with the novella Heptaméron despite his earnest disagreements with the literacy of French literature. He doesn't bother hiding it when France steps in, a large basket held in each hand full of ingredients. When England asks – he doesn't even need to look up to realize the spirit of the French is in the room with him, he's been around him so damnably long – about why France gets up so early in the mornings, France laughs and presses a kiss to the edges of England's short hair, against his ear and imparts to him the secret.
“Carpe diem, cher.”
England snorts without meaning to and mutters something about French being a frog's croak.
Characters: France, England
Rating: G
Secretly for LJ's 64damn_prompts 'seize the day'.
When England wakes up after a bad night, France greets him from the doorway with a blown kiss and a wink, tilt of the head and 'bonjour'. England's response is to groan, turn over in bed, and whine out an excuse about 'his bloody headache'. He's never so lucky for France to just leave him alone, no, because le pays d'amour always returns with a cup fizzy water and Aspirin. With that French idiot standing-- no, sitting right there, he couldn't just not take it, right? So he always does, regardless if he actually has a headache or not.
When England finally gets out of bed, letting the blanket slip softly from around his tangled legs and prompting him to find some underwear, he always makes sure France has left. It isn't out of embarrassment he sends him out of the room, of course not, there was nothing to be embarrassed about. It is out of-- well, never mind, England has no idea what for, but he just does, so there. It doesn't stop him from turning around after at least finding the pair he was wearing last night and seeing France at the door with a plate of eggs benedict.
Damn appearances, damn them to hell and back, because by the time he's fully dressed in clothes drenched with the sticky smell of yesterday, the food is gone, eaten and cleaned and France is gone, out to the fresh market that was peaceful on such early mornings. England sits and waits at the table, passing the time with the novella Heptaméron despite his earnest disagreements with the literacy of French literature. He doesn't bother hiding it when France steps in, a large basket held in each hand full of ingredients. When England asks – he doesn't even need to look up to realize the spirit of the French is in the room with him, he's been around him so damnably long – about why France gets up so early in the mornings, France laughs and presses a kiss to the edges of England's short hair, against his ear and imparts to him the secret.
“Carpe diem, cher.”
England snorts without meaning to and mutters something about French being a frog's croak.