Disclaimer: yeah. Hetalia. So not mine. It's not even funny.
Clash
Avio Favalon
A Hetalia fanfic~
It wasn't necessarily the first noise, a loud, tinkling CRASH! that could only be caused by shattering glass (perhaps a window?) that roused Prussia from his awesome daydreaming to investigate, nor the loud bangs and slamming of the door. True, it piqued his curiosity, and he exchanged quizzical looks with Gilbird at the sounds, but he otherwise chopped it up to typical goings-on of the home of Austria and Hungary.
It was when he heard a sound that sounded oddly like… a frying pan hitting a piano. What… the… fuck…?
When he arrived at the scene, it was indeed what he thought he heard. Hungary was furiously beating the shit out of Austria's grand piano. An image he had never even dreamed of conceiving.
The window above had been completely shattered, and the piano lay in a mangled heap, glass littering all over and around it, and there stood Hungary, cast-iron skillet in hand, beating the shit out of the remains. She was certainly causing damage, too. Dent were left all over the broken instrument, and new ones were made with a resounding CLANG! seconds after the last.
The woman herself was solely concentrated on her task at hand, her eyes flaring with anger, (incredibly lovely) chest heaving with the exertion, bangs clinging to her face due to sweat, hair waving back and forth from her motions, flower disheveled, and… and tears falling from her eyes.
Prussia could not help but have mixed feelings about what he saw. First off, she looked so beautiful, in such a raw state of emotion - did she always look so awesomely beautiful when angry? He never took much notice to how she looked (other than fuckin' scary) since normally her rage was aimed at him, but now…
The only problem now was the fact that there seemed to be something else with the rage. Sadness. Desperation. Something completely unawesome that seemed to affect him. He frowned as he watched her.
She was sobbing and shrieking profanities, her voice shrill, another sound to go with the piano's desperate clangs and moans of protest from her weight and assault. Eventually, she was growing tired, her movements slowing down, the time between each CLANG! increasing. She looked worn and tired, but as if she didn't want to quit.
He hadn't seen her this distressed even in battle.
Prussia didn't even think about what happened next before it did, so he was just as shocked as she was when he approached the woman and wrapped his arms around her waist, his arm running along hers to grasp the hand holding the frying pan. He leaned forward to whisper into her ear, "care for some assistance from the awesome one, Elizaveta? You look pretty tired out."
She tensed, as if she was trying to determine what to do with her situation.
"L-let me go, G-Gilbert, you b-bastard!" she panted weakly. Prussia could feel her shaking, most likely from the exertion (or the emotion? Or both?) and tightened his hold on her.
"You don't look like you want to give up, but at the same time, you look pretty tuckered out, eh?"
"I-I'm fine, Gilbert, s-so get your hands o-off me!" Weakly, she tried to free herself from his grip. He smirked.
"Fine? The awesome me doesn't think so. You're bashing a piano, Elizaveta."
"S-so what if I am?" she sniffled, bringing her other hand up to her face. "Let m-me go, asshole!"
"Nein," he murmured, "if I let you go, you'll fall, and I'm much too awesome to let that happen."
"L-let… let go of me… l-let g-go-" the pan fell from her hand with one last resounding CLAAAANNNG! and she brought her hands to her eyes, going limp in his arms, sobbing. He wrapped his arms around her tightly, gently pulling her away from the wreckage and to the soft grass nearby.
Soon he was sitting in the grass, holding her to him while she sobbed, sometimes whimpering out incoherent words that sounded a lot like, "that bastard" and "I loved him so much" and the like.
Prussia did what he could to soothe her, running his fingers through her hair (and totally not thinking how awesome and soft it felt, no, of course not) and gently shushing her (while inserting comments of his awesomeness here and there). She was calmer, but still clinging to him, slightly hiccupping and a few whimpers here and there.
Eventually, he spoke. "Hey, Elizaveta, I don't know what he did t'ya… but… I… well, I know it was really unawesome and I'm sure he deserves every dent in that piano and… well, y'know, I've known you since we were kids and… well, I'm so awesome, I'll be here for you." He finally proclaimed, after finally finding what he wanted to say.
She blinked up at him, slowly, then looked away. "What he did was… it was unforgivable."
He shrugged. "Hey, if you don't wanna say, I'm cool with it. Still here for you."
She seemed to sigh, and there was a tremor of relief in it. She was quiet for a moment, and then, "…thank you, Gilbert." Her voice was small, and she was still hurt.
Prussia couldn't take it much longer. Looking down at her, seeing her as something completely beautiful, thinking Austria was a complete idiot to do whatever he did…
Then their lips were touching, instigated by Prussia, and deepened by Hungary. Her lips were warm, forceful against his with an undertone of… need? He held her to him tightly, his fingers getting tangled in her hair as his hands were against her back. Her arms were wrapped around his neck, pressing herself against him, and they kissed. He could feel his heart racing, and couldn't help but wonder (but hope) that hers was, too.
When they eventually broke apart, breathing somewhat heavily, she looked up at him through her long lashes, a flush on her cheeks. He leaned in and kissed her again gently, then smirked as he said, "am I an awesome kisser or what?" He gave a small chuckle as he ducked from her fist that had just swatted out.
"St-stupid Gilbert!"
"Feeling feisty, Elizaveta~?" He teased. He laughed when she flushed and tried to shove him. He grabbed her wrists, coming in close to steal another kiss. "Why don't you save that energy for the piano. I think it's still salvageable, and we don't want that, do we?"
She blinked, and then a small smile came onto her lips, and she allowed him to help her up.
They again approached the wreckage, hand in hand.
"Y'know, Gilbert, there are plenty of blunt objects in the house…"
He grinned, and made a dash for the house, looking around frantically. He spotted a tall candlestick and grabbed it, feeling its weight. Satisfied, he ran back out, and she gave a nod of approval at the sight.
The loud CLANG!s again started up as the two began the assault to the thing dearest to Austria, and both knew his heart would be as broken as his piano upon seeing it. They worked to destroy his heart completely, to ruin him, to get revenge, and, to Prussia, at least, so godamned fun.
Eventually, they had done all of the damage they could possibly do. The piano was completely ruined. Destroyed. Demolished.
The two of them once again lay in the grass, laughing giddily at what they had just done. It was all too fucking awesome.
Prussia looked over at the woman, a smirk on his face and a flush on his cheeks. He crawled over to her and kissed her once again, and couldn't help thinking that maybe, he'd get an awesome new girlfriend out of this, too.
Awesome.
A/N: okay guys. So first off, this is a giftfic for two of my friends [who happen to be my Hungary and my Prussia] who, thanks to a lovely bough of drama, loathe Austria. It's unfair to the character, but eh. If you knew, you'd understand. x'D but yeah. I wanted to write a little something for them, maybe to hopefully give them a smile, and had this amusing idea of Gilbert and Elizaveta beating the shit out of that piano. So voila~!
Also /please/ forgive me if I didn't write them very well. this is seriously my /first/ time /ever/ writing them, so I know I must have gone a little out of character if not completely.
I also abused the word awesome.
Ugh. Anyways, I still really enjoyed writing this, and I hope you did, too. :'D
It's an interesting break from my usual shiz, is it not?
Thank you for reading~3
~Avio