This idea is from fluffystar89!

Just a heads up, I don't know much about WWII, so if my details or times are off, please don't be angry. That's all! On with the story!

(Y/n) (L/n) was a rather pretty nurse from the US (or whatever Allied country you want besides France), she was young, only nineteen, but despite her age, she was determined to send soldiers back home.

One rather bleak day, (Y/n) was straightening her pony tail on her break, when her boss (female idol's name) ran in.

"(Y/n)! Emergency! Follow me! Now!"

(Y/n) ran after her, confused because her boss was never this worried, she was always so level headed.

"(Boss name), what happened?"

"A French soldier just showed up at the entrance, he crawled all the way here, he's in really bad shape!"

(Y/n)'s (e/c) eyes widened, and she quickened her pace a little.

(boss name) lead (Y/n) to a bed, where a rather handsome Frenchman in a tattered military uniform was sleeping.

He had wavy golden hair and underneath his bruised dirty skin, she saw that he was beautifully pale.

"Where in the world did he come from?"

"I was about to ask him, but he passed out." (boss name) responded.

(Y/n) frowned. "Did you get his name?"

"Francis. Francis Bonnefoy."

(Y/n) nodded, (boss name) began to leave.

"He'll be one of your patients, okay?"

(Y/n) nodded, looking back at Francis.

(A few days later...)

The Frenchman's eyes fluttered open to see a beautiful young lady standing above him. She didn't seem to notice he had woken up yet, so he just admired her silky (h/c) hair and gorgeous (e/c) eyes.

She jumped a little as she noticed the pair of brilliant sapphire eyes staring up at her.

She blushed lightly, a smile on her delicate face. "Oh, Mr. Bonnefoy. You're finally awake." She noted happily.

"Where am I?" He tried to sit up, but (Y/n) pushed him back down gingerly.

"No, sir. You're going to stay here until you're better." She huffed.

"This is... a hospital?"

(Y/n) shrugged. "More or less. With the war and all, we do what we can." (Y/n) couldn't help but notice his endearing thick French accent.

(Y/n) finished what she needed to do. She smiled apologetically. "I'm sorry, Mr. Bonnefoy, but I have other patients."

She turned to leave, but Francis grabbed her hand. "What is your name, ma cheri?"

She blushed at the unexpected contact.

"(Y/n), I'm (Y/n) (M/n) (L/n)." She replied softly, before removing her hand from the Frenchman's grasp. "You should try to rest." She added quietly, before hurrying off, hoping he didn't see her blush.

(Time skip!)

Over the next few weeks, Francis began to heal surprisingly fast, like inhumanly fast, but that didn't stop him from getting closer to (Y/n). He was flirty, but (Y/n) found him absolutely charming.

Actually, (Y/n) was surprised that he was able to crawl here with a broken leg and arm.

(Y/n) felt a warm arm navigate its way across her waist.

"Bonjour, ma cheri." A familiar voice purred into her ear.

(Y/n) blushed fiercely. "Hi, Francis. I see you're doing better." She attempted to calm her blush.

He smiled, his sapphire eyes glittering happily. "Qui. Thanks to you."

(Y/n) smiled. "More like thanks to the fact that you seem to heal inhumanly fast."

"Ah." Francis looked like he remembered something. "(Y/n) there is something important I must confess." He said in an unusually serious manner.

(Y/n) immediately fell her smile crumble. "What is it?"

"Ma cherie, I am... not as I seem." He seemed to have trouble finding a way to explain. "I am France." He finished.

(Y/n) blinked. "What?"

"I am France. The personification of France. I am immortal and as you saw, I heal very fast."

(Y/n) stared at him, a smile growing on her face! "Really?"

"I would not lie to you ma cherie." He said with a wink.

"That's so amazing! Thank you for telling me!"

He suddenly picked her up bridal style, making her blush all over again.

"I know how you can repay me." He said smoothy, lighting (Y/n)'s face on fire more than before.

Vibrant blue met (e/c). They both knew what was about to happen.

(Y/n)'s soft lips met Francis', they shared a long kiss (not a dirty kiss!).

Finally, they broke apart, for once, the Frenchman was blushing.

"Francis..."

"(Y/n), ma cherie, j'aime te." He said quietly, leading to another kiss.

(A year later, after the war)

Francis kissed (Y/n) lightly, making her giggle.

Francis smiled mischievously. "Ticklish today, are we? I can fix that."

He delicately stroked her sides, causing her to tear up with laughter.

"Oh? Does ma cherie like that? How about... here!"

(Y/n) cried, laughing extremely hard. "Francis, stop!"

"How about... non?"

Another round of laughter followed.

Finally, after a few minutes, Francis stopped his tickling.

(Y/n) smiled.

Francis kissed (Y/n)'s cheek.

"J'aime te, ma (Y/n)."

"I love you too, Francis. So much."