Okay... I'm pretty much announcing that all my discontinued fanfictions are off. I've given up on them... I only ever have short inspiration moments, so they're called off.
Now, something else. On a lighter note, I will be starting a drabble series... Based on flowers and their meanings... On Hetalia couples! ^^ Any couples! You can suggest them, if you like. I will probably only do couples that I accept and support (for example, I won't do Itacest because I don't like it). So just PM me with a couple suggestion and a random flower (and their meaning, if possible) and I'll see if I can add it!
These drabbles can be anything from 500 words to 10,000 words (unlikely) and I may do separate stories on them if I feel they can be turned into a full-fledged story.
Au revoir et merci! ^^
Chapter 1: Acacia – Secret Love
Arthur looked down at his hands, his brows furrowed and a small bead of sweat glistening next to them. His piercing green eyes that made emeralds feel dull looked at the thick bouquet of Acacias and then up at the American a couple of metres away and back. Am I really going to do this?
Francis had told him the meaning of Acacias, after rewarding him with the knowledge of his love for a certain someone... I bet he doesn't love me back... I didn't even know I loved him... I guess those weird butterflies I got in my stomach whenever he got close to me are evidence...
Though he would never admit it out loud, Arthur loved Alfred. And there was no helping it.
So here he was, after Francis' suggestion, going to give the American flowers. Except that's creepy. Weird... I'm a homosexual... Bloody hell! He was going to give flowers to a boy!
He swallowed thickly and straightened up, wiping the bead of sweat off in the process. He looked down at the bundle in his hands again and slowly walked up to Alfred.
It felt like walking out in a clown attire in a crowd of millions... His blood rushed up to this cheek, dyeing it a rosy hue. Curses...
He was just a step away from the American when he turned around. The bright sapphire blue eyes met with his emerald green orbs. D-damn you...
His throat suddenly felt thick, the words escaped his tongue. The rosy hue turned scarlet.
Alfred frowned and cocked his head to the side, "Y'alright Artie?"
D-don't do that! You don't know how much that hurts me!
He opened his mouth to say something, "I-I...H-he...". The words failed.
The American looked confused for a second, before his usual grin surfaced. The bright sapphire orbs shining with life, the grin something Arthur had grown accustomed to. Something he relied on.
Arthur gulped once again, his throat unusually dry. He panicked. He tightened his grip on the Acacias, utterly squashing the stems, before shoving them in the American's grip.
He turned around and fled, a truly cowardly move, but he didn't care. His pride had bloody gone when he talked to that frog.
He hid behind a wall, just ten or so metres away from the American, now with a bundle of squished flowers in his hand, stood.
He looked confused yet again for a moment, before opening his hands and looking at the flowers.
"Acacias...Arthur, do you think I don't know the meaning of flowers?" he chuckled lightly before pocketing the flowers.
"Arthur, I know you're there! I love you too, just sayin'... See ya then!" he chuckled lightly again before turning and running back to the football pitch. That went bloody, jolly good. Not. Since when does he know the meanings of flowers, anyway?
And somewhere deep in his ice cold heart, Arthur felt something. Something which could be named love. Maybe adoration. Affection. But he just kept denying it.