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Submitted on
December 21, 2012
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You sat alone, swinging slowly on the swing set behind the fence of the orphanage that you had lived in for as long as you remembered. It was a dreary place, set right in the center of New York City, in the United States. The people who ran it were nice enough, but no one seemed to come here looking to adopt anymore. The orphanage was running out of money, and another child had heard the owners of the place attempting to get some help from the state to keep it open.


Days seemed to roll by quickly, even though you never really got to do anything other than sit outside on the swings or run around in the yard with the other children. Simple games of tag and hide-and-seek were common, but they could only be played so many times before they became boring. So you would sit on the swings, usually alone.


Behind the fence, a man with blonde hair stood watching you, concern lacing his features. His hair was long and currently was tied back with a blue ribbon. A few stubborn strands had refused to stay up and he was constantly pushing them back behind his ears so they wouldn't fall in front of his eyes. His tan pants were the same shade as his jacket, which was necessary because of the cold weather. A navy blue dress shirt was tucked into his pants, and a scarf was looped twice around his neck.


You shivered, which was enough for the man to call out to you. "Are you okay in there?"
You turned around and immediately spotted the man. He waved slightly and you waved back. "I'm fine."


He nodded. "What's your name?"


You narrowed your eyes in suspicion. "Ms. Abernethy says that I shouldn't tell my name to people I don't know."


The man nodded in understanding. "That's a smart thing to do. But my name is Francis."


"Hi, Francis."


He smiled. "Do you live here?"


You paused, and then nodded. "Yeah. My parents died when I was young, and I've lived here ever since."


"I'm sorry."


"It's fine. I didn't really know them."


Francis' eyes were sad as he looked at you. "Well, I-" He was cut off by his phone ringing loudly. Francis raised up his hand, signaling for a moment. You nodded and turned back around as he started talking.


"Hello? Ah, Arthur. Am I-"


There was the sound of loud yelling on the other side of the phone, but you couldn't make out the words.  Francis sighed.


"So I am late. I'll be there soon. Au revoir."


Francis hung up and sighed. "I need to leave now. But it was nice talking to you."


You turned around, waving and smiling slightly. "Goodbye. Thank you for taking the time to talk to me."


Francis smiled and waved. "Au revoir."


After you watched him walk away, you sighed, leaning your head against the chain holding up the swing. You wished that he could have stayed to talk for longer than just a few minutes.


A few hours later, you were still sitting on the swing, gently rocking the swing back and forth. It was almost one o'clock in the afternoon now, and the temperature had risen a bit. The wind had died down a bit, calming to a gentle breeze that brushed past you every once in a while. You looked up, watching the clouds roll by.


"Hello again!"


A familiar voice greeted your ears and you looked behind you, spotting the man with the French accent again. You smiled brightly, coaxing a similar smile onto his lips.


"Hello."


"Have you been sitting out here all day?"


"Pretty much. There's not a lot to do anymore."


"Really?"


"Yep."


Francis smiled. "It seems pretty dull in there."


You nodded. "You have no idea."


Visits like this happened two times a day for almost a week. Francis would stop by on the other side of the fence, greeting you with a pleasant "Hello" and a smile. You would respond back in a similar manner, smiling. You would talk with Francis for nearly half an hour before he received an angry call complaining that he was late for something and he would have to leave, only to stop by again a few hours later with a soft grin on his face.


But one day, Francis walked into the orphanage after talking with you for a bit, saying that he had some business to do. He walked out almost an hour later, followed by a pleased-looking Ms. Abernethy. Francis walked right up to you, kneeling down in front of you. Ms. Abernethy stood behind him, smiling widely. "(F/n), you're going to be adopted!"
Well, I'va had a love for France for a while, and I love his Big Brother/Papa attributes. So my love for France inspired this, which will hopefully turn into a series.

Thanks to :icongekko73: for the title idea!

Hetalia is not mine.
Neither are France or England.
I don't own you.
But I DO own the story.
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:iconrintehhetalian:
RintehHetalian Featured By Owner Edited Aug 18, 2014  Hobbyist General Artist
Cute ^^ I love this it shows that he's not as bad as some people say
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:iconromacat:
Romacat Featured By Owner Apr 15, 2014
I've always loved France, this was cute.
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:iconresistance33:
Resistance33 Featured By Owner Apr 29, 2014
Thank you!
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:iconromacat:
Romacat Featured By Owner Apr 29, 2014
You're welcome!
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:iconckiser:
ckiser Featured By Owner Nov 13, 2013  Hobbyist General Artist
awww so cute

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:iconresistance33:
Resistance33 Featured By Owner Nov 16, 2013
Thank you.
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:iconmonkeylvr13:
monkeylvr13 Featured By Owner Feb 28, 2013
aww cute! for a while i misunderstood france, but i really like him now.
Reply
:iconresistance33:
Resistance33 Featured By Owner Mar 1, 2013
Thank you!
I know a lot of people that thought that France was a horrible person for a while. A few of them read a story, and now they understand him a lot better. The story is called "Why, Papa?" by ~Hairbun503. It's really great.
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:iconmonkeylvr13:
monkeylvr13 Featured By Owner Mar 1, 2013
yeah i read that one. it was really nice.
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:iconresistance33:
Resistance33 Featured By Owner Mar 1, 2013
It was, wasn't it? :)
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