Hey, this is my first fanfic so please go easy on me (if anyone reads this). So, enjoy! (Or try to at least, for me)? Oh, and I don't own Hetalia or anything that isn't mine.
Raining.
Again.
Iceland sighed. He was hoping for something outside of his window to pop up and save him from drowning in his own little lake of sorrow. Still no tourists, he thought. he sighed again, how the hell am going to even feed myself? He asked himself mentally. His mind was clouded with fears ad doubts and silly little things, like thinking about next time Norway was going to pester him to call him 'Big brother' again, or if Sweden will randomly appear at his house and scare the living shit out of him...
Again...
Ugh! Again! So many things in my life are just 'again'! And that also applies to what I'm thinking now, because this isn't the first time I have thought that. And that. And that. And that. And now I get bored of thinking and do something else, the poor Icelandic boy thought. He decided to go on a walk to clear his mind. Iceland searched for his jacket, nothing special, just the usual clay coloured one. Making sure te doors and windows were closed and locked just in case any of the other Nordics decide to give him a little 'suprise' when he gets back.
When the nation stood outside of his house, he noticed that it was still raining. "What a suprise," he mumbled to himself."Why me?" Iceland said to thin air. And rain. Look at me, I'm turning into Britain! Except I'm a better cook, of course. No one is a worse cook than him, he thought before stepping out into the heavy rain.
Wait, he thought, could I get help from Finland? Heh heh... Sweden would kill me (if that, in fact, is possible) if he saw me try and get anything out of his 'wife'. As he thought that, a presence behind some boulders not so far away plotted a plan. An evil plan.