[France raises his head, a bit of a smile still playing on his lips, but it fades when he sees the look on England's face. He heaves a deep sigh, setting his arms on his knees.]
Désolé. Let's get off this dirty floor.
[He gets up with a tiny groan, dusting himself off. He glances over at England, but doesn't offer him his hand. Perhaps it's a false assumption, but he thinks that England fancies himself as having too much pride to accept help from a Frenchman.
So instead, he takes to wiping away as much blood from his face as he can. He can still taste it in his mouth, and he prods his tongue around his cheek, wincing when he finds the spot he had inadvertently bit open.]
...You should be happy. [He flashes England a look that's half a smile, half a glare.] Your right hook has not changed, at least.
[Implying that there's quite a bit about him that has changed... Oops.]
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Désolé. Let's get off this dirty floor.
[He gets up with a tiny groan, dusting himself off. He glances over at England, but doesn't offer him his hand. Perhaps it's a false assumption, but he thinks that England fancies himself as having too much pride to accept help from a Frenchman.
So instead, he takes to wiping away as much blood from his face as he can. He can still taste it in his mouth, and he prods his tongue around his cheek, wincing when he finds the spot he had inadvertently bit open.]
...You should be happy. [He flashes England a look that's half a smile, half a glare.] Your right hook has not changed, at least.
[Implying that there's quite a bit about him that has changed... Oops.]