[Once they're both on the ground, France rears up, one fist full of England's shirt, the other raised and ready. But, just like England earlier, France gives pause instead of striking. It could be the look on England's face, or the fact that he still has so many questions that will remain unanswered if England's teeth get knocked out or his jaw gets swollen shut during their scuffle, but France doesn't punch him.
He still looks pretty pissed, though. He huffs, sending a stray strand of hair flittering away from his mouth. Blood pools between his lips, and there's a streak of it going across his cheek, which is now starting to sport a big, ugly bruise. For a few seconds, his fist just hovers in the air awkwardly, but slowly, France lowers it. He keeps his fingers tangled up in England's shirt.]
...Do you know what today is, England? The date.
[The question seems to come out of nowhere, all things considered, but it's an important one. Though his brows are still knit in frustration and he's tense all over, it doesn't sound condescending at all. France honestly needs to know how England will answer this.]
it did, gomen about everything
He still looks pretty pissed, though. He huffs, sending a stray strand of hair flittering away from his mouth. Blood pools between his lips, and there's a streak of it going across his cheek, which is now starting to sport a big, ugly bruise. For a few seconds, his fist just hovers in the air awkwardly, but slowly, France lowers it. He keeps his fingers tangled up in England's shirt.]
...Do you know what today is, England? The date.
[The question seems to come out of nowhere, all things considered, but it's an important one. Though his brows are still knit in frustration and he's tense all over, it doesn't sound condescending at all. France honestly needs to know how England will answer this.]