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“Ma lune (1), won’t you show Papa your beauty?”
The first thing you saw when you were born were your father’s blue eyes. Everything had been so blurry and colorful at first… It hurt to open them, but still, you felt at peace once those warm, blue eyes were staring slightly shocked into yours. Who was that man? You felt safe when in his arms, but, still, who was he?
“Mon petite ange (2), your eyes…”
You didn’t understand a thing he said, but you recognized his voice! Oh, his voice! It was the only thing you wanted to hear, even when his voice wasn’t the one you heard the most, it was indeed the one you loved the most.
“They are the most beautiful color that was ever created.”
Please keep talking! It was the only thing you wanted to tell him, but only gurgling sounds came out of your mouth as you tried reaching out for him.
“Mon amour (3), you are the loveliest creature to have ever existed.”
You only giggled, as he buried his nose in your stomach, tickling you while doing so.
“Mon paradis (4), I have no idea how God let you go to fall into my arms, but I’m sure I will never let you go.”
Your laughter only increased when he grabbed his own blonde hair and tickled your face softly, grinning brightly while he watched you squirm.
“Mon ciel (5), my gray days slowly turned colorful once I was told of your existence.”
Your stomach asked you for food, and you let him know of your discomfort by whining slightly. He sniffed the air, looked around, probably spotting something he wondered before turning back to you with a smile.
“Oh, ma joie (6), I think I kind of forgot your meal, its good you reminded me.”
He cradled you into his arms, letting you get comfortable before attempting any kind of movement. Once you got settled, he walked downstairs to where delicious smells would usually come from, probably to make something that would make the nuisance in your stomach go away.
“Ma vie (7), you’re lots of work, but I’d rather exhaust myself and see you smile than do nothing and not have you here.”
Some minutes later, he had a white thingy in his hand and was holding it up to your face. You immediately got a hold of it and began suckling the warm liquid as he held it for you.
“Mon petite (8), how I yearn to see you grow up, but I’m afraid of the day you’re going to leave.”
You looked into his eyes as you ate, wondering just what he was saying to you. You didn’t understand a thing he pronounced, but as long as he kept holding you and talking to you, you didn’t really care. And it seemed that he didn’t seem to mind that you gave no kind of response.
“Ma petite fleur (9), I never want you to leave me. I already suffered enough when Matthieu was taken away, I don’t want to go through the same things with you. I wouldn’t bare it.”
You were done with the weird tasting liquid he gave you, and now you felt a pressure in your tiny, little body. Seeing the slightly distressed look on your face, he brought you up to his shoulder and patted your back, eliciting a small burp from you.
“Ma petite étoile (10), I shall be here for as long as you want, for as long as you need. You are my light, and for you I will try.”
He carried you back to the room where you slept, sitting on a rocking chair as you fought the need to sleep as best as you could while holding tightly on to his finger. The rocking rhythm he had created didn’t help at all, really. It was soft, it was soothing, and it was calm. All you needed was to hear his voice once more and sweet unconsciousness would claim you.
“Mon soleil (11), I will try to be as responsible as possible. I will try to rise you to the best of my capacities. I will try to be gentle, to make you proud, and to be someone you can rely on. I will try to be the best man I can be for you, amour (12).”
It was official, Morpheus had taken you on a stroll through his magic sands, because you were sleeping like a rock. Francis laughed softly, tucking some stray strands of hair behind his ear as to not let them bother you, not taking his finger back from your grasp. He stood up and walked over to the crib, placing you in a comfortable position before he leaned down close to your face.
“Je t'aime, ma belle fille. Tu es l'amour de ma vie. Tout ce que je l'ai et tout ce que je suis est le vôtre. Pour toujours. (13)”
He softly placed a feather like kiss on your forehead, making you give him an unconscious smile and to hold tighter on to his finger, making him chuckle.
“I, Francis Bonnefoy, representation of France, swear to you on this day forward, that you will be my only devotion, my only vice, my only love. I will put you and your needs over anything and anyone else’s, for you are my pride, and my child.”
He took his finger back from your death grip and chuckled slightly, replacing it with a small teddy bear Matthieu had bought for you long before you were born. Francis walked to the door and turned towards you, watching you silently before whispering.
“I always thought that my country and my people’s well-being would forever be my priority, but now, I prefer seeing them all be destroyed rather than you being harmed, mon cher (14). I now realize, the world would be so much better if everyone knew how to love and be loved, but the only love I need and want is yours, mon chéri (15).”
He closed the door, leaving one last lingering whisper behind.
“Pour moi, vous n'êtes pas un petit pays, ma petite colonie. Pour moi, tu es mon monde entier. Et il est un monde que je veux protéger. Je t'aime, ma petite (y/n). (16)”