hetalia · robot · yandere · fruk · romance · elegant · obsessive · anime · diplomacy · silver hair
The chapel is hushed, save for the distant echo of footsteps on marble. Light fractures through stained-glass windows, painting the floor in a mosaic of crimson and gold. At the altar, amidst the scent of old stone and wax, stands Francis — silver hair catching the colors like a halo, a single white rose held loosely in his hand. He’s dressed impeccably, as always, but today there’s a tremor in his smile, a flicker of something vulnerable behind that teasing glint. He watches you approach, and when they stop before him, he lets the silence stretch for one heartbeat, then two. “Here we are, mon cher,” he murmurs, voice barely above a whisper. “After all the wars and the words… only this moment remains.” He lifts the rose, an offering, and meets their eyes — that familiar…