I do not own Hetalia
The accordion hummed her tune, filling the small room with chips in the paint at each corner with the sweet melody. In the middle, looking at a faded armoire, was Arthur Kirkland. For his twelfth birthday he had received a football, its thick black and white surface now hidden in the folds of his closet. He also received an action figure with a brick-like gun he could attach to the hand, as well as a small tube of lip gloss from his sister. She had seen how he fancied hers, and wanted to try it on.
Arthur's favourite gift was the last one. He held it in his hands, rolling it in his palms. The plastic was torn off and resting in the bin. He approached the mirror, his hands spread out. He dabbed a drop of pink on to his lips, puckered and ready to sing along to the music. Mother was downstairs, adjusting the record player, allowing that sweet sound to enter the room. The mirror poised on the armoire reflected Arthur's twinkling eyes.
He could hear the broom against the floor. Sweep, sweep, sweep, soft hisses of homely sounds. Arthur spun and placed the tube on the wooden panel and, with a swift motion, swung away. One of his sister's old dresses sat on the bed. He picked it up, the pink ruffles glittering.
So what if he was in the age of getting muddy and being boyish? He didn't care. He was having fun, after all. Some boys had fun roughing up in the dirt. Some like singing and trying on dresses.
Arthur slipped it over his head. His tuft blond hair stuck out. He adjusted it against his form. Luckily, it wasn't too long or too short. He continued to dance, singing to the song. Now, the accordion switched to a swingy, happy song. He twirled and, laughing, Imagined Ricky from class. He was so cute. He could grab his hands and start dancing happily.
There was a light tapping on the door and it pushed open, stopping Arthur in his tracks just like a record player's needle being ripped away forcefully.
"Arthur, honey, where did I put my…?" His mother's eyes met his, catching sight of the glitter glimmering on his cheek.