La Bataille de Nos Cœurs (Fruk)

17

My eyes widened...

He came to me, placing an arm around me. He managed to manipulate me...like I was an easy fool. Were any of my thoughts truly mine? Or was he manipulating me to think a certain way?

"How did you..."

"Anyone could see you are in love with THAT nation...it was an obstacle I needed to get through, so manipulation was needed."

"What? I am NOT in love with-"

"Oh please...you make it so obvious, and it was a weakness...he was manipulating you too, and I was here to save you. I was saving you from him, and I am saving you now. I expect a good fight today and no screw-ups!" He cheered. I had a hard time processing everything.

I couldn't be in love with him! We are nations! We don't have feelings like that. Sure, we had affection toward each other and kissed maybe three times...but that was it. It was physically impossible for people like us to feel that way. Having affection is different from being in love. "I can tell by your face you are having a hard time processing this, you may leave to compose yourself, but I expect a fresh attitude later!" he cheered.

"Wha-"

"THE ENGLISH! THEY ARE HERE!"

Screams erupted, and gunfire began to be heard from where we were standing. "Go!" He demanded. I nodded at him seriously, quickly leaving the tent. This is not good! I did not realize that I would attack this soon. I only had a sword on me.

"FRAAAAAAANNNNNCCCCCEE!"

My eyes widened upon hearing the sound, and I quickly withdrew my sword. I could nearly feel my hands sweating as I was lucky enough to stop the sword from impaling me. "I've found you!" He declared. England pushed his sword down on me, and I backed away. I needed to stall him; he could not know that Napoleon was in the tent behind me.

"Ah, seems so!" I laughed. I looked around, seeing that many men were fighting against ours. We were outnumbered; it was a matter of time. They were all instructed to push through, so I am sure the soldiers will stick to the plan Napoleon gave them.

"Ah, but can you catch me?" I asked. He looked at me, confused, and I pushed him off me, starting to run away from the tent. I did not see the rest of the allies, so I was sure they were on different fronts fighting. Judging by some of the uniforms, Netherlands was here, as expected.

"Huh? WHY ARE YOU RUNNING?!"

He began to chase me, and I could not help but laugh. I shouldn't, but seeing him flabbergasted like that was a little funny. I was leading him away from everyone; maybe I could talk to him.

I stopped running when we were a distance away from everyone, and as soon as I did, he began to attack me. "Why are you trying to run away from me?" he asked. He began hitting me with all he had, and I blocked him. "I needed to, so I could be alone with you!"

"Huh? I doubt that! You have refused to stop fighting, and I have had enough of it! I am ending this today, and you will be taken down! So will your hold on Europe!"

"Trust me; no one wants that more than me..."

We continued to fight as I laughed, and he looked confused. "Why are you laughing? What is wrong with you?" he asked, confused. I think deep down, the reason why I was laughing was because of all of this. What Napoleon told me, and this war. I can't believe I really was that easy to control.

"Because! this whole war is pointless, and I have wasted years fighting you for the wrong reasons! I don't care if I lose anymore. I let people manipulate me, and I am unsure whether my thoughts are my own."

I think I was losing my mind; all of this was pointless.

England stopped fighting me and watched me horrified as I started to laugh at my misery. "God, what has happened to you? You have gone mad," he spoke, horrified. "My dear, I have gone mad with the realization of my false reality; forgive me...that is all I ask..." I spoke.

The person standing before me...

He has messy hair and overgrown eyebrows, which have put me in a trance. His gaze from his green-colored eyes...like the forest we played in as children. He had all of my soul and more. I have ruined everything. This was all my fault.

I began looking around at the battlefield, hyperventilating as I watched people kill each other.

"No...this is all wrong..."

"France...?"

"Arthur...I am sorry..."

He looked at me, confused for a moment, and lowered his weapon.

"I'll leave you words, Underneath your door, Underneath the singing moon, Near the place where your feet pass by, Hidden in the holes of wintertime, And when you're alone for a moment...I hope you will think of my heart whenever I tell you to be well..."

"Francis..."