A/N: Hi! It's me again. This is the prologue to my new fanfic. I don't own Hetalia.
It was the 24th of December in London. The cold breeze tickled little Alice's skin. She looked around, confused. She decided to run away from home because of her father's cruel family. She was the illegitimate child. She planned that she would stay hidden until they go look for her. She was putting her hands together trying to make heat. She was sitting on the same cold bench in the same dull park where she would go to when she was feeling down. Even though she was wearing double layers of clothing, the cold temperature still made her shiver. Rushing townspeople walked briskly, trying to go home early for Christmas Eve. People kept looking at her, but she didn't mind. She knew it all too well. She was a sin. Her existence was a burden. Her mother met her father in France, the country of love. Just simple infatuation made a child. It was not her fault, it was her father's. Her depraved, cruel father just forced her mother. It was his entire bloody fault. But no justice was served, because he was dead. Her mother died afterwards, after giving birth, and her father committed suicide a few days after. Under these circumstances, she has to live with her father's family.
Alice cupped her freezing hands. She can't handle the cold anymore. She brought out her notebook, trying to avoid thinking about it. Alice, in the age of nine, has already made tons of handwritten novels. Her first novel was about a unfaithful man that keeps cheating on his newly wed wife, inappropriate for her age indeed. She stroked her notebook with her sharpened pencil, ready to write.
The unusual setting of that cold Christmas Eve was a perfect first meeting of the main protagonist and his love interest. She wrote everything that she saw. Suddenly, a little boy of 10 or 12 sat beside her. He was reading a book about physics. His dirty blonde hair, waving in the wind and his cyan eyes were gracefully analyzing the contents of the book. His orbs were fixed on the book, but it always looked at Alice. And when Alice would catch him, he would pretend was still reading. A silent atmosphere filled the air. Alice looked at her left, where the boy was, but he wasn't there. She went back to writing in her green notebook and sighed. The boy was a character in her story. Alice felt a warm breathe from behind. She turned back, and saw the same boy reading behind her back. She got flustered. Her pale cheeks were tainted red and her hands were trembling.
"Y-you were reading the whole time…?'
"Hah. Yeah. I would like to be your main character…I AM the HERO anyway~!" he said in a cheerful voice. He smiled and Alice smiled back. It seems that her Christmas Eve wasn't that bad after all…