[ Sometimes the memories of being America's age don't come so easily to him anymore but he knows that they were spent at a much slower pace. The world had felt impossibly large and things had been simpler. Deep introspection hadn't really become an issue for him until later; really, America is just a product of the times. If Twitter existed back when he was a child he'd be fucked up, too. Moreso. Moreso is an important addition.
How dare he still have dimples! Rude. He lifts his attention just in time to catch America grinning at him. A to-do list is quickly put in place in his mind's eye with 'Fund Poland's confessional ' at the very top for the momentary crippling guilt that just slammed him upside his pretty blond head. France does what he normally does when guilt treads on his conscious; blatantly sidestep it until it hits him later when he can process it! Yay!
The Police's "Don't Stand So Close to Me" plays in the background. ]
You make fun of my pet names, too. It seems as if you're conflicted with what you like about me.
[ A hand rubs down America's back and he offers the blond a soft tut, completely teasing. France takes a moment to let the rest sink in, idly distracting himself with tracing the ribbing on America's top. Honestly, the boy inherited England's stubbornness to freely speak of emotions, so when he gets sincerity that isn't hidden beneath twenty layers of jokes it's... nice. ]
Even when it seems like I am being overcritical of the things you do, I'm glad. That is, that I am able to, which probably sounds like a rather strange thing to be grateful for. I only do it because I want to see you grow into the nation you aspire to be. I didn't have guidance from someone like us when I was young. Or reckless.
[ France tips his head back to rest on the back of the couch, his smile sudden and impish. ]
You have a very sweet blush when you get flustered as well. I can't help myself.
That being said, I don't plan on changing that. [ An eyebrow raises. ] Are you trying to sweet talk me into cooking for you this late?
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How dare he still have dimples! Rude. He lifts his attention just in time to catch America grinning at him. A to-do list is quickly put in place in his mind's eye with 'Fund Poland's confessional ' at the very top for the momentary crippling guilt that just slammed him upside his pretty blond head. France does what he normally does when guilt treads on his conscious; blatantly sidestep it until it hits him later when he can process it! Yay!
The Police's "Don't Stand So Close to Me" plays in the background.]You make fun of my pet names, too. It seems as if you're conflicted with what you like about me.
[ A hand rubs down America's back and he offers the blond a soft tut, completely teasing. France takes a moment to let the rest sink in, idly distracting himself with tracing the ribbing on America's top. Honestly, the boy inherited England's stubbornness to freely speak of emotions, so when he gets sincerity that isn't hidden beneath twenty layers of jokes it's... nice. ]
Even when it seems like I am being overcritical of the things you do, I'm glad. That is, that I am able to, which probably sounds like a rather strange thing to be grateful for. I only do it because I want to see you grow into the nation you aspire to be. I didn't have guidance from someone like us when I was young. Or reckless.
[ France tips his head back to rest on the back of the couch, his smile sudden and impish. ]
You have a very sweet blush when you get flustered as well. I can't help myself.
That being said, I don't plan on changing that. [ An eyebrow raises. ] Are you trying to sweet talk me into cooking for you this late?