"So Britain!" America started his voice loud as usual. "Who was your first kiss?~"
England's face flushed a burning pink as he slipped into his memories.
A younger Britain was walking deep in the middle of a forest. Not saying a word or stopping to chat to his magical friends, he was headed to the heart of the forest- where there was a plain, which only had one, big, but really old tree. Getting closer to the heart, England could see a figure sitting in front of the tree. The Englishman's eyes sparkled as his pace quicken to the figure. As he entered the heart, he returned his old pace, calming to greet the man, who was reading a book in a foreign Language. As England's shadow blocked the sun's view for the figure, the man looked up, pushed his long blonde hair out of his face, and smiled. The man's cool blue eyes were as calm as ever as he greeted, "Bonjour Angleterre~ "
England nodded. He wondered how this man could keep such Icy eyes, AND yet, have such a warm impression. "France, can I sit here?" England asked with in a British accent that was attacked by puberty. His green eyes clouded.
"I don't know~ I may of stink of ze wine and cheeze!" The Frenchmen taunted. His voice was young, but puberty wasn't really bothering him. But what did, is when England didn't respond. "Of course England..." France continued, with concern hinted in his accent. England sat down, close to the Frenchmen, hugging his knees. He couldn't look at France, as he asked "Have you kissed anyone before?"
France blinked at such a question! "Of course I have~ Je suis a lover~"
England continued, hugging his knees tighter "Wot about a boy?"
France hesitated, probably wondering if England was questioning his sexuality. "Non. Not yet at least."
England nodded, and continued looking down.
France sighed. "You haven't had your first kiss, have you?"
After a pause, England shook his head, and then positioned himself to get up and leave, but France grabbed his hand, and turned the Brits shoulder, so that Britain would have to face him. The Frenchmen asked softly "Do you want your first kiss?"
England looked away; his face was blushing a deep pink. France smiled, as if he knew what this meant, and he leaned, along with England himself. The two met the passion of the kiss, and the soft touch of France's hand caress his burning cheek made the Brit flush even more. When they broke apart, France's icy, yet warm eyes flooded into England's shimmering green ones as he whispered "how waz zat?"
England was speechless. All he could do was look into France's face, where he noticed that the Frenchmen's face was hinting a blush as well. Chuckling, France got up, grabbed his book and spoke in a louder tone. "I hope vous enjoyed your first kiss, Mon lapin~" As France walked away, Britain touched his lips. That rest of the day, all he could think about was how soft France's lips were.
"Well?!" America shouted. "Who was your first kiss?? France Russia and me are DYING to know!"
Russia nodded, while France remained silent.
"I don't remember America..." Britain shrugged. That was a huge lie. That day with France made Britain fall for boys, rather then girls. There was penalty of times where Britain tried to force himself to a girl; he even tried to do such dark, terrible things to change his sexuality. But nothing worked. He gave up. Well, truthfully, he was forced to give up. The Brit shuddered as he looked over at Russia, whose possessive purple gaze was penetrating into England's soul. "I wanna go home..." England whined.
Russia grinned "Da, let's!~ This game was boring anyways!" Russia grabbed England's hand, and started to forcibly pull England away. Britain had one last glance, which was to France.
Who was looking away sadly.
The ice in France's eyes were melting.