AN: Wow, this is shorter than I thought it'd be. Well, some (maybe all) of you are wondering about the pairing. Well, here it is. This is my new favourite crack pairing. Why, might you ask? Well, I happen to be a Spain cosplayer and rp-er, and being the lucky bastard that I am, I somehow managed to end up dating a wonderful, beautiful girl who happens to cosplay Seychelles. Hence the pairing. I wasn't originally going to write this, but my friend requested a story immediately after hearing about my relationship. So there you have it. And to those of you reading this who also read ILYIJDKIY, or the Spanish version (but if you speak Spanish, you probably won't read this story), or if you read Matt's Piano, I KNOW. I need to update. I haven't been. I suck. ILY won't get updated until I write the next chapter in Spanish, which I don't really want to do even though I should. The other thing about that story is that I've stopped shipping almost all of those pairings... So I might keep writing just for the readers, but eh... We'll see. And about the sequel to Matt's Piano, I PROMISE, it's coming. I don't know when, but it should be soon. So now that my author's note is almost as long as the story, please enjoy!

Sometimes, when he came to visit France, she would watch him from afar. She found herself becoming absolutely fascinated with the man, who's beautiful accent would float of the walls of her home on odd occasions when he would drop by unannounced. It was a very innocent crush that she harbored on her father's young friend. She liked the way he laughed, loud and uninhibited, and the way he would sigh and run a hand through his wavy brown locks. She liked the gleam and sparkle of his deep green eyes, and the earnestness of his smile.

Sometimes, when he came to visit France, he would bring his guitar. He would play beautiful, lively songs, and sing along, his voice deep and sweet. The songs he sang were always different. Sometimes they spoke of joy and passion, and other times of sadness and desperate pining. She would occasionally muster up the bravery to enter into the room as he played, sitting in front of him and observing him with a deep fascination. From time to time he would glance up at her, his piercingly green eyes taking on a rather soft quality.

Almost as if... But it couldn't be.

Sometimes, when he came to visit France, Antonio would get the feeling that he was being watched. He would notice amber eyes peeking at him from the staircase, trailing him as he walked the familiar corridors of Francis's house. It wasn't a feeling he particularly minded. In fact, when those amber eyes would turn away, he would often find himself observing their lovely owner with his own green ones. It was a very innocent crush he harbored on his friend's daughter, who had blossomed fully and beautifully into adulthood. He liked the way she smiled, sometimes soft and timid, and at other times wide and free. He liked the sharp contrast between the innocent expression she would wear and the mischievous gleam in her eyes, and the sing-songy quality of her voice, when she did choose to speak.

Sometimes, when he came to visit France, Antonio would bring his guitar. More and more, he found that lyrics of the songs he played and sang were a reflection of the things he wished he could say to her. Sometimes his words were joyful and passionate, and at other times they were solemn and full of longing. He savored the moments when she would come to sit in front of him as he played. From time to time he would glade up at her, to find her gazing at him in a sweet and tender way.

Almost as if... But it couldn't be.

AN: If you liked it, I might be persuaded to continue. Maybe. It could be fun to make a story out of this.