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Paris looked around at the café Londres had taken him to. It was quant little place with a nice, homey feel to it. The café was in Londres's domain, right along the River Thames. Their table was outdoors, right next to the river that Londres was so fond of. And why shouldn't she be? She came to be alongside the river.

"Londres," he began.

"Hush," she whispered, placing a black gloved finger on his lips, "and listen."

Paris remained silent and pulled back from the finger. All he could hear was the chatter of the other café goers and the sounds of the tourist and city dwellers alike. He was confused, why would Londres want him to hear this? He looked at the English capital and saw her smiling peacefully with her eyes shut. She looked at peace.

"Londres," he whispered, "What am I supposed to be listening to?"

"The river," she said softly, opening her eyes slowly, "the sound of the river. Can't you hear it?"

Paris looked at his companion oddly before became silent once more. He could still hear all the chatter around him as well as the sounds of a city but there was something underneath it, the sound of slowly moving water. The sound was peaceful and calming. Was this what Londres wanted him to hear?

"Water is often used as a symbol of good health and purity in literature, Paris," whispered London, "Water represents life and can also be the symbol of change. Water may also be a means to cleanse one's self." He watched her take a sip of her tea. "But, I was only speaking was the pure waters. There is also the polluted."

Paris watched as Londres placed her tea cup back on its saucer. One minute it was clear and clean and the next, the tea was murky and dark. It looked disgusting. Paris wrinkled his nose and looked back at Londres who was staring off into the river.

"Polluted waters means risking one's health or if one is too late," she looked back towards him, "one's own end."

"What are you saying Londres?" he asked, "I don't follow you."

"Currently we are sitting near the non-tidal portion of the river Paris," she continued, "A slow flowing river is usually used to symbolize a steady calm."

"Can you just give me a straight answer Londres," asked Paris.

"But if we were to head up a bit towards the tidal portion," hissed Londres, "violent rivers are used to represent strength and often calamity."

Paris froze once he heard that.

"Paris Damien Bonnefoy," began London, "You and I were once courting several hundred years back, correct?"

"Oui."

"And I was the one to end our relationship, correct?"

"Oui."

London's expression was stern, as if she wasn't going accept any jokes. "Do you know why?" she asked.

"Non," he answered, shaking his head, "I don't understand why you had to end it. We were so good together, why did you have to end it?"

A server had come to their table and poured both "teenagers" a glass of red wine. They thanked their server and took the wine glasses in their hands.

"Paris," London twirled the glass in her hand, "Besides me, who else were you seeing romantically?"

"I wasn't seeing anybody!" retorted Paris.

London glared at him, "Oh really? Then let me see," London took a sip of her wine, "Does white hair and red and blue eyes mean anything to you?"

Paris froze upon hearing the description. It did sound familiar and it did help job his memory. It was true; he had seen someone other than Londres during their relationship. It was capitol closer to his age than Londres. He remembered her long white hair, her alluring red and blue eyes and those feminine curves. He remembered taking that mistress to bed many times while he was still seeing Londres.

"It does," he gulped.

"Paris," said London as she got to her feet, gesturing for a server to come over, "there are two things that I cannot take when I am in a relationship with someone." The server came over and London paid them off. "One would be promiscuity and the other would be trust."

"I don't understand," he began.

"Then do let me finish you frog," spat London, "When we were courting, I had trusted you entirely to not be promiscuous and to cheat on me. But what did you do?" Paris felt his blood run cold as London leaned over so that her lips were near his ear, "You went and cheated on me with the one girl who means the world to me, meine Schwester, Königsberg (my sister, Konigsberg)."

Paris reeled back just as London pulled away. No wonder Londres seemed to hate him once they broke up. When they were dating, he had been seeing the Prussian capitol on the side. He had forgotten that the Prussian woman was the English girl's elder sister.

"Auf Wiedersehen Paris," said London with a sweet smile on her face as she was walking away, "I wish thee well."


"It is kind of you to join me here Angleterre," commented France as he smiled towards the Englishman in front of him.

"I guess this is nice," said England as he began to admire the interior of the restaurant.

France had taken him out to Lyon, his capital of gastronomy. England was well aware that whatever France had planned, it involved fine dining, something that he really didn't mind. So long as the Frenchman wouldn't bother him after this, he was okay with going out to dine with him. It would only be once after all.

England had to admit, he was impressed by what the Frenchman had done up to now. Not once had he had made an indecent pass at him. France had only acted like a gentleman towards him, just like how he used to act until their relationship finally met its end. He almost would admit it; he missed this sort of treatment from a significant other from time to time. It was just that he was so bogged down in work nowadays that he hardly had enough time to go out on a date anymore.

He had almost forgotten what it was like to be out on a date with someone.

"You and your sister do seem to like ze water very much," said France, breaking the silence while they were eating. Both of them had Saumon Grillé.

"Huh?" asked England, he had been too busy day dreaming that he hadn't heard France.

"I say, zat you and your sister boz like ze water," answered France, "Paris texted me about 'is date with Londres, it was in a café along ze river."

"It is not hard to like the water if your nation is on an island and surrounded by it Francis," said England as he sipped his wine, "But yes, both of us do enjoy being by the water. Rowena enjoys the rivers whereas I prefer something bigger."

"Bigger?"

"Much bigger than a river?"

"And what would zat be?"

England smirked, "The ocean."

France blinked in surprise when he heard that. Sure, he had encountered England during his pirate days and during war times when England was on the deck of a Navy ship. The Englishman had always been fond of the water and had made it very clear to him several times that the water was just where he belonged.

"France," began England, "Do you happen to know that in literature, the ocean often symbolizes power and strength?"

"I 'ave," answered the Frenchman, wondering exactly the Englishman was going with this talk of symbolism. He didn't understand why England would bring something as trivial as that up.

"The ocean is vast, dominating," England sighed, "Just as my empire had been."

"But what of zat ocean you sound so fond of?" asked France.

England grinned, "The ocean is also known to represent something of a mystery, France. It is unpredictable, uncontrollable."

Uncontrollable was right. France could only guess how similar England was to the ocean. How the nation was just as mysterious, unpredictable and uncontrollable as the very ocean he admired.

"An ocean is hope, truth, mystery and magic all wrapped into one beautiful, unpredictable, uncontrollable package," continued England.

"I don't understand what you are saying Angleterre," said France, "May you get to ze point?"

"When we were in a relationship," England sighed, "I felt as if I had been trapped there." France blinked in surprise when he heard that. Angleterre thought that he was trapped? "You were against the very magic I was so fond of, you always yearned to keep my heart for yourself and you desired to control me."

"Boz of us wanted control," countered France.

"But you wanted control over something that I wished to never surrender entirely," quipped England.

"And what would zat be?" asked France.

"My heart."

France looked at the Englishman in confusion. So England broke up with him because he didn't want France to have full control over his heart? But wasn't that the point of a relationship? To fully give the person you love your entire heart and soul?

"But we were in a relationship," countered France, "In a relationship, you give your lover your entire heart and soul Angleterre, it is only normal zat I would want it."

"But you were trying to invade my whole heart," said England, "The heart can be portioned out to many causes, work, family, lovers. You were my lover France."

"I don't understand."

"You were attempting to control my entire heart," England sighed, "You attempted to steal me away from my work as well as my family, which is why I could not be with you."

France looked at England in surprise as the Englishman called for a server to come over. He watched as England pay the man the bill and then make his move to get up and leave. Just as he was about to go, France reached out and grabbed England's hand. The Englishman turned around and looked at him in surprise.

"But what if I can win your heart now?" he asked, "What if I can win your heart now?"

"You can't do that France."

"Why not?"

England only gave him a smile, "Because my heart belongs to my family." France's eyes widened. "You may never win my heart and you will never be able to change it. My heart belongs to my brothers, my sister and my nephews. My family is always at work with me and they will never try to control me, never try to deny me my magic and will never admit to outwardly desire my entire heart to themselves. That is why I will never be with you again France." He pulled his hand free of the Frenchman's grip. "Adieu France."

France could only watch as England disappeared out of the restaurant. He would never be able to win his English lover over again would he? The love of his Angleterre would never return to repair his broken heart ever again.


And we have come to the end of this story, but with an end comes a beginning. If any of you are readers of my other story "High School Experience" then you have already seen my ideas for other stories. I will be writing a Hetalia/Black Butler (Kuroshitsuji) crossover very soon. Please be sure to keep an eye out for that.

I wish all of you the best of luck and have a great rest of the day. If you want, please drop a review. I would love to hear from you all.