*BLESS YOUR SOUL FOR MAKING IT THIS FAR.*

This is the last chapter! Enjoy!

Translations for French at the end!

The next morning England awoke to the sound of his alarm clock, buzzing loudly into his ears. With a quick glance at the clock, he cursed under his breath and noted that the time was already half past ten, which meant that the meeting started in a few short minutes. He jumped out of his bed and looked around his closet for a clean suit, slipping it on quickly and taking a quick glance in the mirror at his appearance.

No matter what France thought of him, England didn't think much of the way he looked. He felt bland and boring, lacking the style that so many other countries had. He had forever been jealous of France's natural flawless looks, and this morning was no different.

"I can't go out looking so plain…! Not after what France said…" He searched desperately for something to make him look more appealing…there was that new tie…or maybe his better jacket…or perhaps even that rose…

Wait…a rose..? Arthur stopped in his tracks and blinked, rubbing his eyes as he stared at another beautiful red rose, positioned perfectly in the same tall vase. He eyed the flower and took it into his hands curiously, looking around for a person who could have put it there. Much to his dismay, there was no time for investigations, so in a hurry, he brought the rose out of the room with him, planning to tuck it into his shirt pocket when he had the time.

After rushing all the way down to the meeting room, England was surprised to find no one present, but also quite a bit delighted that he was once again the first one there. He cleared his throat and set the rose down neatly on the table and walked up to the once again blank chalkboard, taking a piece of white chalk in his hand.

With a shrug he began to draw the faces of each of the Axis nations, but just as he had finished drawing the first country, he felt something bring him to a stop. He shivered with the feeling of being watched, slowly and hesitantly turning around to confirm his suspicions. He nearly jumped when he saw France standing behind him, blue eyes sparkling and his face as bright and stunning as always.

"…D-Don't do that, Francis! You nearly gave me a bloody heart attack!" England gripped on his shirt as if trying to stop his rapidly beating heart from leaping right out of his chest.

"Bonjour, Britain…Sorry to surprise you." France's deep blue eyes tugged on England's heart, melting him from the inside out. "I came to tell you…the meeting has been cancelled for today. It is Sunday…and God would frown upon us if we were to talk of such gruesome things on this, the day of rest…"

"O-Oh…Well then…I suppose I should be resting then…" Arthur replied stupidly, for he could think of no other words to say. The two countries just gazed at each other for a while in a long, drawn out silence until France finally cleared his throat and turned to face the other side of the room, walking towards the window covered in ruby red drapes.

"C'est une belle journée a dehors…non?" Francis breathed, smiling back at Britain before slowly releasing the curtains, revealing an enthralling blue sky and rolling green hills, dotted for miles with trees and flowers. "Do you remember those days that we used to spend admiring the world at its finest? Je m'ennuie de ces jours…"

Arthur understood enough French for this to make him sigh, and agree, "O-Oui, Francis…I miss those days as well…" A familiar redness began to creep up his face, and he cleared his throat, turning away from the window. "…But those days are long over, as you know…Things are different now…"

"…Yes, I know that much, old friend…" The blue eyed man whispered in return, resting a hand on the window as if trying to touch the breathtaking landscape. "I just wish that you had followed my advice from that day…" England was so wrapped up in memories and guilt that he didn't notice the French man behind him until he felt his breath hot in his ear. "Love is more powerful than you understand, my dear …although I cannot force you to comprehend its majesty. You must find it for yourself…"

With no other way to defend himself, England resorted to anger, whipping around and hissing at France, "And you think you know so much about love…tell me, what does love mean, you frog! If you know so much, then explain to me!"

Without a word, Francis pulled up his long sleeve to his shoulder, displaying an arm horribly ravaged with scars. England couldn't hold back a quick and quiet gasp at the sight of the man who he once thought flawless now covered in angry pink marks. "Francis…! …was this from…?" he croaked, hesitantly running a finger over a scar that traced the entire man's arm from shoulder to wrist.

The French man flinched and sighed, a slight smile brought to his lips. "Oui…This scar is from you…we have had many battles against one another…Most of these were as a result of our conflicts…" France pulled his sleeve back down over his arm, buttoning the cuffs back and staring into Britain's eyes. "I have shown you this so that you know….That even after the horrible trials we have put each other through… Je t'aime…"

The Englishman stood there speechless as the words sunk in, staring down at his feet guiltily as France turned to leave. "F-Francis...wait!" he cried out, snatching up the rose from the table before grabbing the other man's shoulder.

"Oui, England? Have you something to say to me?" Francis turned back to face England, and nearly gasped aloud in surprise when a rose was brought to his face.

"Here! Just…just take it, you frog..!" he muttered with forced irritation, looking down to hide his blushing face. When he felt the rose taken from his hand, he sighed with relief, but remained still and silent until he felt two fingers lifting his chin. England felt himself melt completely under the other man's warm gaze, and for once, he did not try to shy away.

"Francis…I.."

"Say nothing more…" the French man purred, brushing the flower's delicate petals over Britain's lips, soon replacing it with his own. All of England's common sense and conscience was whisked away with the kiss, and as if his actions were not his own, he felt his arms slowly rise to wrap themselves around the other man's neck. A tongue traced his lower lip then forced itself inside of his mouth, filling the Englishman with warmth from head to toe. He shivered as he felt Francis' hands lower to his hips, and he only half fought his urge to pull the man closer. "F-Frog…" he growled as he was backed up against the wall, the rose's soft petals now caressing his neck, soon followed by short, sweet kisses.

"Relax, mon amour…You've been surrounded by strife for much too long…" France cooed, his blonde hair shining gold in the sunlight.

Britain immediately obeyed, falling victim to his sweet, soothing voice. Well trained hands released the tension in his shoulders and England sighed with the instant relief, sinking down slowly. Francis urged him gently the rest of the way down until both countries were sitting on the ground. Arthur buried his face in France's blue coat, gripping it tightly as France stroked through his hair, and the two exchanged hushed words.

"I'm sorry, Francis…"

"I know, my love."

"I was such a fool…"

"…But I still love you."

"Will you ever forgive me?"

"You're already forgiven."

Their hands intertwined and they both gazed into each other's eyes, laughing.

"Are you crying…? Typical French man…"

"Don't tell me that you just have something in your eyes, Arthur…" Francis chuckled and kissed away the tears that rolled down Britain's face, holding the still sparkling rose in front of their faces, going silent when Britain began to whisper.

"…Francis…"

"Oui, dearest…?"

"If I had to die tomorrow…I would die happy."

France grinned and pressed the flower to England's lips, whispering in his ear,

"Our love can conquer even death."

TRANSLATIONS:

Bonjour = Good morning

C'est une belle journée a dehors…non? = It is a beautiful day outside, is it not?

Je m'ennuie de ces jours… = I miss those days...

Oui = Yes

Je t'aime… = I love you

Mon chere = My dear

Mon ami = My friend

Mon amour = My love

I AM SO SORRY IF I GOT ANY OF THE FRENCH WRONG. I am French so it would be quite a shame if I got these wrong...both because of that fact and because I asked my mother to clarify if these were correct. If I got any words wrong, please tell me so I can correct it then hit my mother with a frying pan. Haha...not really. I love my mom. XD