Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia. Only my story plot.
Am I shaking from the cold night's air? Or from the anger? I look down at me trembling hands, they're ice cold. I bright them up to me cheeks, burning hot with rage.
"Stupid bastard." I whisper out to no one.
I take a big swig from my bottle of wine. How could I have been so stupid. We'd only known each other for a short period of time. There goes a tear falling down my cheek, a tear some jackass doesn't deserve. He didn't deserve any of the things I did for him. I should have kept that stupid expensive watch he left on my night stand. Second thought, no, I don't want anything of that ungrateful bastard's things in my home! I take another big swig of my Italian imported wine. Hmm..? Almost gone. How much have I had? I should probably go back inside, it's getting late and I've lost track of the time just sitting out here. Maybe the idiot left getting the hint that I didn't want him anything else to do with him. Besides it was the only reason why I was out here sitting out on the back porch of the duplex I lived in. Yeah, I think I should go back inside before my freakishly tall and creepy of a neighbor hears me out here. He is always watching me when ever he sees me leave the house or something. He makes the hallway smell too. The things I have to do to get the smell out of the walls are insane. The smell sticks to everything! Gods, how I despise that man. I furrowed my brows at the thought of him coming out side to see what I'm doing.
I get up carefully, swinging my legs over the lawn chair, but I lose balance and the wine bottle escapes my grasp and shatters into a million pieces on the porch.
"Goddamn it! My wine!" I yell losing my balance even more, falling on my face even more. Luckily I miss the broken glass. "Damn it all!" I yelled out again.
I couldn't be that drunk could I? I did have almost a whole bottle to myself. As soon as I finished that though I saw it. The light upstairs turn on. The light that belongs to that freak. No. Not only that. I hear the window slid open and his voice call down. Fuck.
"Who's there?" I hear.
"Fuck." I say frowning to myself seeing his head poke out of his window.
"What happened? I heard something, is that glass everywhere? Are you okay?" The son of a bitch says out of his window and slams it. I can hear creepy giant foot steps stomping down the stairs.
"What the hell do you want?" I hear myself slur. Maybe if I get up fast enough and run in my house I wont have to talk to him. But me falling back on to my ass after his voice startling me, says other wise. Fucking Dutch bastard.
"Ah, I heard a crash and was worried that something might have happened. And look it, I was right. " He said producing a broom and a hankerkeif, looking down at me.
I sit up on the cold and now wet ground looking back up at him. "What are you looking at me with that smug look for bastard?" I said as he started to sweep up my mess. Keh, at least I don't have to clean it. I fold my arms and look away.
"You're drunk, no?" The Dutchman puffed out.
"And what if I am?" I furrowed my brows at him. I try to get up so he will stop gleaming over me with that stupid smirk with his freaky fat face with his stupid tall hair. I decide to lean against the matching table that goes with the lawn chairs. By now he is does sweeping up my mess and walking towards me. Oh, no. Oh, no, no, no.
"Then I suppose I will just have to take care of you and make sure you don't hurt yourself again." He says readying his hankerkeif wanting to clean my bleeding lip from when I fell with a deep chuckle.
"No, don't you dare get close to me and try to clean me with that nasty cloth! I don't know where its been!" I yell at him as I start to fling my limbs in different directions. But suddenly in my drunk flailing I lose balance, again. But my body doesn't find itself hurt, on the cold ground. No, instead it's being embraced by a warm body. A warm Dutch body.
"Oh? Then I will have to find other means in cleaning your wound." He says to me with his hand under my chin looking down at me. "I have nothing else but this." Suddenly I feel his lips against my own and a tongue wiping away any blood. I always knew this guy had something for me. Damn it all to hell.
"What the hell is wrong with you, asshole? What do you think you are doing?" I scream at him, pushing him off of me. "Just because I am a little drunk does not give you any right to take advantage of me. What would-what would Anto-..." That's right I trail off, I cant use him as an excuse anymore to keep this freak off of me.
"That's right, you have someone don't you?" He laughs out slyly. "Is he in there now? Hmm..? Oh, wait, you would have had to been deaf not to hear what happened earlier. Plates crashing, curses tossed, and cries riffling through the air." He taunts pinning me down against the table, rubbing against me. He leans in to me and forces another kiss on me. His hot tongue trails down my chin and finds a nice place on my neck to suck on.
"Uhhnn..." Someone moaned.
Was that me? Oh, god no. That was me. This night just gets worse and worse.
"Well look at who is getting vocal in more ways that one?" He whispered out then continuing to attack my neck with his teeth.
"Nnn... s-stop!" I manage to get out. Why do I have to be so sensitive when I'm drunk? Just another way the world wants to screw me over. "I..I sa-said stop it..." I demand panting. Just then I could feel him rub up against me once more.
"But it sounds like you're enjoying it." The Dutchman says towering over me with his hand slowly creeping up my shirt.
"No I wasn't! Just get off of me and let me go. I just want to go to bed."
"The bed?" He smirks hungrily.
"No, not like that! I just want to sleep!" I yell at him bothered and my face all red. I push him off me and get up. I look at him with disgust and walk towards my sliding door that leads to the kitchen.
"Going back to him so soon after what he's done to you?"
I stop a few feet away from my destination, and froze, stunned at his jealous comment. I took a half step back, glistening tears roll down my previously stained cheeks.
"That bastard can go to Hell for all I care!" I choke out before storming inside, trying my best to slam a sliding door behind me.
Inside my home is dark, but I don't need to turn on the lights to find my way to my bedroom. Once I stumble through the kitchen I find myself at the opening to my living room. I now remember the mess I had made, throwing a fit trying to get him out of my sight and leave my home. But he refused wanting to talk this out.
My hand searches for the light switch and flicks it on. The lights violently flashes in my eyes. I shake my head trying to adjust my eyes in this drunken state I've gotten myself into. Thinking at the same time maybe I should try and clean my mess after I've sobered up or possibly in the morning. But once I reopened my eyes, I am shocked to see that the living room is in perfect order. Everything is where is should be, the glass picked up, furniture put back in their respective places, and the lamp up right in its corner.
That stupid considerate bastard. He must have done it waiting for me thinking I would return. At least he was smart not to follow me.
But there's one thing that I noticed different about my living room. There is a little white note on the coffee table. I walk over to the couch and sit on it leaning back in to its comfy pillows. I pick up the note which read
"I'm sorry. I just want to talk.
Please call me whenever you can.
-Antonio"
Like Hell I'd call him. He doesn't deserve to be heard out. Like I said, what's done is done. Nothing can be taken back.
A/N: Sorry for any sort of mistakes I made. I'm only human.
I've never written The Netherlands before so sorry if he is OOC. I originally wrote it as France in the first few paragraphs but didnt like it because I was like "Oh, yeah BTT and all" and I didnt know who else to put there.
Reviews are nice and so are critiques.
Thanks~