Rose Parade- 1

White Rose

Iceland took a deep breath, staring at the white rose bouquet in his hands. This was nerve-wracking- well, when you're about to ask for the hand of the little sister of a country with a loaded gun at his back… it gets very difficult.

His eyes flicked upwards at the mahogany door in front of him. He could always turn back and try another time, he figured, maybe a century later or something…

"Hey, is the tough guy getting cold feet?" The black bird sitting on his right shoulder sneered at him. Iceland just glared at the offending bird. "There's no need to give me that look sourpuss."

The white-haired boy just grunted at the bird. "I can glare at you if I want to, Mr. Puffin."

The bird just sticks up its beak haughtily with a small 'humph!' "At least I'm not the one nervous for his first date," he said.

At that statement, Iceland's face heats up, and he glared harder at the bird, hoping that maybe his stare was hard enough to roast it. "It's none of your business whether I ask her on a date or not!" He sputters indignantly.

He wasn't half lying actually. It really was up to the lady if she wants to go on a date or not. He wasn't even sure if he wanted to go on a date with her- she has a brother with a loaded gun on him 24/7, and the over-protectiveness does not make it any better. Kind of like a more complex version of his and his own brother's relationship- it didn't involve guns, but he did hear some pretty suspicious sounds coming from the basement of their manor.

He shudders just thinking about the unearthly groans that came from below the first floor… Well, it was either that, or Norway finally got drunk and floored Denmark.

…That was even more terrifying, now that he thought about it.

Case in point, Iceland wasn't convinced that this was even remotely safe. He sighed, forgetting his anger towards the puffin on his shoulder, and immediately cold anxiety took its place. Why was it that he had agreed to do this again?

Right- France -and his stupid insight.

Honestly, who knew that the man could pick up on signs that easily? It really wasn't his business if Iceland took nigh-unnoticeable glances towards the sweet and quiet girl, or if he tries to fight down the blush threatening to make itself visible on his pale cheeks. So what if he thought that the girl was cute? It wasn't like the Frenchman himself hadn't thought that over a hundred times that year as he had… Surely, most people were aware of her cuteness as well… right?

But no, the man just had to be a nosy bastard…

"Ah, but mon ami, you do want to gain the attention of petite Lili, yes?"

…crap, he was right.

Now, it wasn't as if Iceland didn't understand whatever it was that he was feeling for the quiet nation. He was in love- it really wasn't that hard to figure out on his own. No, he refuses to be the 'dense' character who keeps lying to themselves… honestly, who even does that anymore? It never worked for them, and it sure as hell wasn't going to work for him. He also understands that this situation is worse than being stranded in the middle of his volcanoes.

But asking help from France was too much for anybody- especially in this situation. The man has Switzerland's gun on standby for God's sakes, and- hell he even got shot on the head by said country. All because he thought that it would endanger his little sister's innocence. It really was a mystery, until he realizes that he was desperate. Try as he might, he couldn't get sweet little Liechtenstein out of his head.

"It's a difficult choice, but I wouldn't consider giving Lili a red rose bouquet. It gives it away, non?"

That didn't make sense to him at all, he thought, when he stared at the Frenchman. Weren't red roses mandatory for this sort of thing?

That was until France explained the language to him, the ridiculous language that belonged to the roses. He didn't get why that had even existed- why was it so important for them to know what the flowers meant? It wasn't like the one receiving them knew what they meant, right?

Until Francis had told him that he had learned this from Lili herself, and his attention returned almost instantly.

"Red roses, they are the universal symbol for love. Which love, oh ho, the love that runs in the veins of a passionate couple, of course? Those who are already so far down into their love, and cannot escape from it. You, my friend, are not in that stage yet, oh no, no ,no. You and Lili are far from it." He said as they walked together in one of the hallways leading outside. Iceland could still feel the stares they received from the other nations- mostly he felt because he and the older nation had never been that close. Silently he was worried that Lili was watching them too.

She probably was.

Huffing, he turned to the Frenchman. "Then, what would you suggest?" He had doubts- but then again, he was talking to the so-called nation of love. This man was supposed to be an expert.

"Well I'm glad you asked!" replied the Frenchman, putting a finger under his chin in thought. Iceland watched him in (slight) anticipation, Mr. Puffin following suit.

"Why not try white roses?" France answered after a minute of thought.

Iceland crossed his arms over his chest. "I guess that's not too much of a bad idea, but… why white?"

"Let me explain. White roses are meant to represent purity, innocence, a soft loving. Think of it as a sprout, a tiny sprout, just barely a shrub and fresh from hardships. Over time, it will grow into a magnificent shrub." And he chuckles, pulling a white rose of his own that came out from… well, Iceland wasn't sure where. "Everybody has to start somewhere, like how artists start with only white. You will gain color eventually." France took his hands and placed the rose gently between them. Iceland tried his hardest not to make a face when he realized that the man was so close to his face. France winked at him. "Besides, white is Lili's favorite color."

And now, as he stood in front of her brother's door, Iceland wonders why France hadn't just told him her favorite color in the first place. He would have bought it regardless.

"How long are you going to stare at those flowers?" Iceland fought back a groan as his companion's snarky remark filled his ears. Up until that point, he hadn't realized that he'd been staring at the flowers in his hand.

Wow, Denmark really wasn't kidding about how much time you could waste on flashbacks. No wonder he spaced out a lot.

'Innocent, huh… just like her, innocent.' Iceland took a deep breath, and exhaled. 'Whatever happens, I'll try to keep that innocence. Maybe not as well as her brother does, but I'll try.'

Finally building up his courage, he knocked on the door.

When the door opened, he was relieved to see not the menacing mouth of a rifle, but the sweet, smiling face of Liechtenstein.

Author's Note: Cliffhangers, cliffhangers, cliffhangers… ah darnit please don't kill me.

I was gone for too long again, drat. And Valentine's was a few months ago, darnit. AND I STILL HAVEN'T UPLOADED THE MULTI-CHAPTERS :'( This one's also a multi-chapter. I have no guarantee. _'''

They're still ongoing, I'm just really stuck. I'm SERIOUSLY sorry. In fact I'm too sorry.

Disclaimer: Hetalia does not belong to me, it belongs to Hidekaz Himaruya.