AN: I'm actually pretty excited about writing this story ^^ It is going to be my first attempt at a Hetalia Fanfic and I hope you all enjoy it! :D
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That Wanker! Why was he always so bloody late!
Thus where my present thoughts of that loveable idiot American who was now – I looked at the clock for what felt like the hundredth time that day – Two Whole Bloody Hours Late! That Twat! Doesn't he realise that – being the eternally punctual nation that I am – I am always ready and awaiting his arrival with ten minutes to spare? Damn Git...
With a loud, rather undignified huff, I slammed my empty tea cup down on the coffee table beside me, glorying in the loud clacking sound it made when it came into contact with its matching china plate.
"That's enough!" I shouted to no one in particular before storming out of my tastefully decorate living room.
"Why is he always so bloody late!" I raged. I wasn't sure where exactly I was heading at the moment, but I was past caring, so I just let my feet carry me wherever it was they wanted to go.
Eventually I found my self in my spacious bed room and slumped down onto my four poster bed sighing exhaustedly.
I don't think I will ever fully understand that American. He even made a point of rearranging our meeting to an hour earlier than originally planned and he still ends up being two hours late. Does he even realise how ironic that is, I thought indignantly. Does he even know what ironic means, I added causing a sly grin to find its way onto my features.
I shook the thoughts out of my head before standing again and observing my well arranged room. That damned American has already made me wait long enough, I'm not going to just sit here doing nothing. Its not as if I need him around to have a good time! I thought adamantly.
Sighing in frustration I noticed my well stocked bookshelf in the corner of the room and trudged stubbornly over to it to begin searching through the many titles it held in its ample shelves.
Maybe some Shakespeare or Jane Austen will lighten my mood I fancied, feeling optimistic. My countries outstanding literature never failed to captivate me whenever I picked up a volume and allowed myself to get swept away in the fantastical worlds described within. However, today it seemed not even Shakespeare could lighten my mood as my eyes scanned over the many titles I owned and found that nothing stood out amongst the crowd.
Shelly, Keats, Wordsworth, not even Thomas Hardy held any interest for me now. Reluctantly I decided that I would let fate decide on what I should read. Covering my eyes with one gloved hand, I raised another and pointed at random to a section of my bookshelf. On opening my eyes I discovered that I was pointing to a small collection of old leather bound tomes that held no title.
Curiosity sparked within me as I grabbed the first volume on the left and eagerly opened the cover to read:
"What follows here after is the diary of me, Mr. Arthur Kirkland, so if you aren't me put the damn book down and get the bloody hell out of my room!"
I chuckled fondly as the memory of writing those words and flicked idly through the pages of childish rantings. Hundreds of years had past since I first made an entry in these forgotten dusty pages and I was suddenly intrigued as to how much of my past would be captured between the crumbling leather bindings.
Returning to the first page I began to read from where I had left off.
"My bastard brother Scottie told me I should vent my anger on some parchment instead of on his borders so I have reluctantly taken his advise because I have nothing better to do at the moment. Mostly because Flying Mint Bunny has just left with Uni and the others, NOT because there isn't anything of interest to do in my splendid nation! Just look at all of the majestic castles my people are building right now! And Hadrian's Wall! That will look simply grand when it is completed! Plus it will add to my defences against that blasted Scots Man!"
Wow. Its hard to imagine Hadrian's Wall during its construction now I thought, shocked at just how many years had passed since I began to write in these pages. It even made me a little sad to think that, what had once filled me with so much anticipation during the 6 years that it had taken to build it, was now reduced to hardly more than a shadow of its former glory. Internally I cursed myself for allowing my people to remove materials from the wall, even though it had seemed that the construction works they had been used in where of the utmost importance at the time. Shaking my head I returned my attention to the worn parchment.
"Anyway, that is enough ranting for one day. I'm not entirely sure on the protocol for writing ones first diary entry but I'm guessing it may be appropriate to begin by describing myself. I am an extremely mature and powerful nation considering my age and size. Of course I have been taken over by several much older and larger countries in the past but I have always won through in the end! Mostly thanks to my impressive knowledge within the field of Black Magic. I am by no means ashamed of admitting how skilled I am in the art, in fact I find false modesty excruciatingly undesirable."
At least that much hasn't changed I observed proudly. I still retain the position of most powerful practitioner of magic within the world and I will never be ashamed of saying it because it is entirely true. Of course Norway may have been almost as good as me at one point, but he would never surpass the mighty Britain! I would make sure of that! Smiling devilishly at the thought I continued to read.
"Aesthetically I am still rather short with unyieldingly messy locks of blonde hair and deep green eyes. I also have larger than average eyebrows but I refuse to pluck or style them because that's what girls like Francey Pants do! I refuse to be like that wanker in any way! Although being as tall as the bastard might be nice..."
Smiling at how my hate for the frog had evidently been omnipresent even as a young lad I closed the book and returned it to its position on the shelf. Glancing through my open bedroom door towards the grandfather clock in the hallway I noticed that Alfred was now two and a half hours late. Pouting angrily at the feeling of betrayal and abandonment that this discovery brought on me I turned away from the clock and stubbornly pulled out another volume of my extensive diary.
If that wanker isn't even going to bother to show up on time I'll just keep myself company!
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AN: First Chapter done ^^ I hope you liked it ^^ It was actually pretty difficult imaging how Chibi Iggy would write 0.o I hope I pulled it off ok o.0
Anyways please review and let me know what you think! ^^ I've already started on the second chapter so it should be updated soon ^^
Review! Pwease... I'll give u cookies :p