France X Reader - Birthday Night

France X Reader

Birthday Night.


France stood on the balcony of his large room. He looked up at the starry sky with a glass of his most expensive red wine in his hand. It was a hot night, but there was a nice breeze that gently combed through his honey locks of hair. The crystal glass came to his lips and he sipped at the alcohol. The full moon cast a silver aura onto the country’s garden and although it looked beautiful, there was a void in France’s heart.

The glass rested upon the stone banister which framed the balcony. “Joyeuz anniversaire… à moi.” He whispered before he gently shut his sky-blue eyes and straightened his back. It had gotten late, and he suspected there wouldn’t be any more cards or presents presented to him for the rest of the night. Had everyone simply forgotten about his birthday? “Non.” He answered his mind’s question out loud and stared at his reflection in the crimson drink.

It was not the fact that everyone had forgotten that it was France’s birthday, but rather in recent times no-one cared. He flinched on the inside as a pang of pain hit his heart. To think that no-one would care for him, the man of love, not even on his birthday! It stung like a bee. His fingers released the wineglass and his hand quickly gripped his silk shirt. The agony was real; he could really feel it within his chest.

Red wine sloshed over the rim of the glass before the whole thing fell off the balcony. He struggled to open his eyes and when he finally conquered the trial, the moon’s white light seemed to blind him. His head went dizzy and he felt the popularity of his rival, England, burn as bright and as fierce as the spread wings of a phoenix in flight. How could the black sheep of Europe suddenly become so popular because of one, pathetic cartoon?

“Huh.” A breath of laughter fell from his lips as he was forced to close one eye again. “Japan would never forgive me. It’s not a cartoon, it’s an animé.” He corrected himself and slid down to sit on the cold stone. He frowned and laid his head against one of the hard, sculptured columns of the balcony’s rail. On top of England’s popularity, and the fact that hardly anyone had made an effort for his birthday, he had that horrid train crash on his mind. It had haunted his dreams since it had happened. Poor, innocent people were injured… some even killed.

As he hid his tears in the palm of his hand, the door to his chamber squeaked open. Through blurred vision, France looked up and saw a familiar silhouette stand in the flood of light from the hallway. It was [Name]. She was the last person France had expected to come to his door so late at night.

“Hmm? France? Where are you?” [Name] called out as she stepped into the room with his present in hand.

She looked through the darkness for a few moments and then found France as a lump on the floor. She gently smiled and went to take a seat next to him after she planted the small box, neatly wrapped, onto his lap.

“[Name]? Is this really for me?”

“Of course you fool.” She looked away with a blush and furrowed brow. “Don’t think this means we’re friends though.”

He chuckled and held the small gift in both of his hands. “I wouldn’t dream of being friends with you anyway, mon chérie.” He tugged on the ribbon and then ripped the gold and white paper off of the box. When he opened it up, a sparkling sight met his glittery eyes. His vision fully focused on the watch in his possession, and the tears that had previously fallen down his cheeks had left no trace of existence. [Name] had that effect on him. Hearing her voice or seeing her face was enough to remind him that it wasn’t all doom and gloom around him.

[Name] slightly looked at the man beside her. “Well?” She asked in an impatient but slightly worried tone. “D-Do you like it, or not? N-not that I care…” Of course, [Name] really did care about what the Frenchman thought of her gift. She had spent ages saving her money for it, and it took a long time to find a watch that matched France’s elegance and grace.

France closed the top of the box. He set it on the floor and turned so that most of his body faced [Name]. “Thank you, [Name].”

His voice was as dreamy as ever, but it had lost the teasing tone it usually had when the two of them conversed. “A-ah. You’re welcome, but do you like it?”

“Oui, very much so, but I can think of something I like a lot more.”

[Name] was crestfallen as that sentence was processed in her head. She sighed and went to stand up to politely leave, but as she bent her knees and went to stand, France grabbed hold of her wrist and pulled her down so she sat on his lap. Her chin was soon in his gentle grasp and as a huge blush raced across her face, she stared at France in utter shock.

“W-What are you doing?!” She shouted but her fear and surprise melted away when the space between the tip of her nose and France’s dissolved. She tasted the wine on his breath as his eyes fell closed and his lips hovered beside her mouth. She realised what he liked more than his gift; the girl who had given him the gift. With a smug smile on her lips, [Name] placed a hand on France’s cheek and rubbed it softly. “Happy birthday, France.” She muttered.

“Thank you, [Name].” With that, France pressed his lips against [Name]’s and she gladly returned it. The red wine that lingered on his lips added depth to the warm kiss. One of France’s hands set itself among the locks of [Name]’s hair while his other arm wrapped itself around her torso. She felt herself relax in the embrace and was glad that she had stopped by his room. She had debated on the thought of leaving the delivery until the next day, but now she was certain she had made the right choice.

As for France, he smiled on the inside and out. It didn’t matter if England was more popular because of some dumb television show, and despite the sorrow in his lands, France could feel happiness light within his heart. As long as he had [Name] in his life, he didn’t need to worry about the problems around him; or at least not for tonight.