"Something seemed off about him today."
Something was going on. Something very strange. Something peculiar. You hadn't been hit on by France. What's going on? This was 'Hit On Thursday'! Are you not attractive to him anymore? Is he plotting a scheme to get you REALLY bad? All you knew was that you were dying to know.
You walked your little self over to France's chair where he was having lunch by himself and sat down next to him. For a second, France didn't notice you.
"France?" you asked.
"Hmm...." he grumbled, looking down at his plate and playing with his food with his fork.
You poked his cheek about three times before he responded, turning around to have your noses touch. Quickly, you backed up, but then Francis didn't try to hit on you. He just went back to his plate.
"France?" you repeated.
"Oui?" he asked tiredly, not looking up at you.
"What's wrong?" you asked, pushing your boobs together to show up big in your cleavage for him once you bent over to look at him.
"Nothing...." he muttered, twirling his fork.
You groaned, letting your head back so that you stared at the ceiling.
"Jeez, France. If I was really that unattractive, you could just say so," you muttered, returning your head down to look at your hands in your lap.
"It's not that, mon ami!" he said, looking up.
"Mon ami? My friend? Not even my love? What's gotten into you, France? Is it just me?" you asked, looking at him.
"It would never be you. You're perfect. I'm just feeling very lonely, you know? Everyone thinks might... 'take advantage' of them, but I would never do anything without consent. You think I'm lying, don't you....?" he asked, looking back to his plate.
"No. I get lonely sometimes, too. I'm just not a people person, I suppose," you said, looking up.
He laughed once under his breath.
"What?" you asked.
"It's just that you're so good at talking with me that I thought you would have tons of friends. That's why I thought you never wanted to hang out with me...." he said.
You looked confused for a second, but then you smiled. Then, you leaned over and kissed France's cheek.
"Hey, how about we be lonely together? You promise not to hit on me, then I'll promise not to hit you with Hungary's frying pan of doom!" you smiled.
"I'd like that," he smiled back.
"So, how about we go somewhere for lunch?" you asked.
"Well, I was thinking dessert~" he smirked, licking his lips.
"HUNGARY, GET YOUR FRYING PAN!"
