Author's Notes: A fem!Prussia? Oh, how I love that girl. I really do love this pairing with Prussia as the girl, simply because it somehow seems more dynamic with an obnoxious girl falling for the quiet guy and I never see anything for it except like two or three other stories. :'D
And also, the chapters in this story are going to be relatively short, so it should be updated quickly.
Hetalia (c) Hidekaz Himaruya
A warm aroma filled the air, a trail of smoke from the kitchen signaling that something was being cooked, and in the midst of it was the blond haired Matthew Williams. As he was mixing hot chocolate and flipping pancakes, he would occasionally peer out the small outcove from the kitchen to catch parts of the hockey game that was on, having to stand on his tip toes to see past the two heads that belonged to the bodies loitering his couch.
He then proceeded to juggle a stack of pancakes and two cups of hot chocolate and rushed in to the living room, dropping them on to the coffee table skillfully before turning his full attention to the television. He then plopped in between his two friends who had been waiting for his return, Gillian Beilschmidt and Francis Bonnefois, the boy's two best friends, though the idea seemed to puzzle everyone.
See, Gillian was a loud mouthed girl who was known for seeking out trouble and having quite the vulgar mouth. It really didn't help that most times she dressed like a hooker with short skirts and tube tops while allowing her long white hair to cascade down her body. Aside from that, she was actually a good friend that was always there when needed and made sure to protect the "vital regions" of those she cared about.
On the other hand, people didn't like Francis simply for the fact that the French man was a pervert and had tried his best to get in to everyone's pants, including the two he was sitting with. Fortunately, his efforts with Matthew were cut off by Gillian who had told him to back off, threatening to castrate him.
As for what they were doing in the Williams house, eight at night with Gillian shoveling pancakes in to her mouth, Francis casually sneaking his arm around the girl's shoulders, and Matthew screaming bloody murder at the television was quite a frequent occurrence.
It had all started nine years ago (when the three of them were just thirteen at the time) and the Williams family had moved in to the neighborhood at the house smudged in between Francis and Gillian. A day after they had fully moved in, the entire neighborhood had showed up at the house, welcoming gifts in hand as they commenced to force a party on to the family. They were showered in enough gifts though to throw the party, with the Jones family all smiles as they brought what looked like a mutated cake, the Kirkland's with their infamous scones, the Vargas family with their mountains upon mountains of pasta, the Bonnefoy's brought wine, and the Beilschmidt's brought their German imported beer. All was a sign that the Williams family had been accepted in to the neighborhood's disfuctional family unit.
Though, it wasn't until a year later Gillian and Matthew had become even mutual friends. She had been at Alfred's house, at one of his extravagant parties nonetheless, when the Williams boy had shown up all shakes and nervous and appearing lost when she took him under her wing and introduced him to her two best friends. To be honest, she liked leading the boy around and getting to learn that underneath all his act, he was actually loud himself and just wanted to appear good to appease the adults.
The pancakes and hot chocolate ritual hadn't started until one day when Gillian decided to crash his house one morning and they served her breakfast of their notorious pancakes. After that, she was hooked, and came over at any and all hours of the day just to have some made for her.
"You have work, non?" Francis piped up, his eyes curiously glancing at Gillian.
Piling another load of maple pancakes in to her mouth, the girl in question glanced up to the square clock above the television screen that had been there for as long as she could remember. Her shift would be starting in ten minutes, much to her resentment. She'd somehow managed to land a job at 7-11 and hated most of their rules (like having to put your hair up if it was too long and wearing those stupid red shirts and not allowed to wear her skirts) and the only reason she bothered to keep it was thanks to her friend, Antonio Carriedo, who also shared the same night shift (there was another girl, but she never bothered to learn her name). The free snacks help too.
"Mmm, yeah," She hummed and swallowed down the rest of the pancakes. Hunching over and out of Francis' grip, she pulled on her purple converse before pulling her jeans over them and getting to her feet. Reaching behind her, she picked her leather jacket up and slipped it on while heading towards the door. Then, as she was opening the door and snatching her keys off the table nearby bye, she called out, "See ya!"
"I'll stop by later," Matthew called back, flicking his wrist dismissively, focusing wholly on the game.
"You better," Gillian sighed and was out the door, headed across the yard to get in to the beat up van parked in her own driveway.
The night had gone by unusually slow and not even Gillian and Antonio's small pranks on customers had made it any better. Something just seemed wrong and bugged the albino girl, maybe it could be because it was already one in the morning and Matthew still had yet to visit and to save her from Antonio's rant about his "wonderful" girlfriend, Lovina. No, she wasn't as wonderful as he made her out to be, Gillian would know, they'd lived across from each other since they were in diapers (not to mention, she was over often since her twin, Felicia, was dating Gillian's brother, Ludwig).
"So, what should I do?" Antonio's thick Spanish accent rose and his pleading emerald eyes were focused on Gillian who was running a hand through the hair she'd pulled over her shoulder. "Gil?" He tried again.
"Oh, uh, huh?" She buzzed, her ruby eyes that were once sharp were hazy.
"Lovina won't say she loves me back and I don't know what to do," He groaned and when she didn't reply, he turned serious and asked, "Okay, what's wrong?"
"What makes you think something's wrong? Nothing's wrong. I'm too awesome to have something wrong," Her mouth begun spouting out words a mile a minute.
While her rant changed topics, Antonio's eyes strayed to where their other employee was and paused when he partially recognized the blond chatting casually with the girl. "Hey, isn't that, uh…" Antonio started, but had forgotten the boy's name.
Pausing in the middle of the rant, Gillian turned her ruby eyes to the direction Antonio was looking and froze. "Matt, but what's he doing with her?" She pondered with a frown in place.
Upon further inspection and the laugh among the duo, Antonio suggested, "It looks like they're flirting."
"Matt doesn't flirt," Gillian snapped defensively.
The two were at each other's throats at that point but stopped when the door bell rung and Matt had left and the girl was smiling brightly like she'd won the lottery. The Canadian hadn't even bothered to even say one word to her… what was this unbearable feeling in her chest?
The girl turned around and Gillian stared. Her hair was light blonde and styled in a short bob that was completed by a blue headband and she was fairly tall. Though, and it's kind of hard to miss, she had certain assets that were far too large to Gillian's liking (hell, she was only a b-cup herself). She then tried to squint and read her nametag, but the girl wouldn't quit moving and frankly, those things bounced like nobody's business.
"What's her name?" Gillian hissed, her hand securely in place on Antonio's bicep.
"I think it was Katyusha Braginski…" He mumbled while trying to inch away from what he knew would be coming.
"… As in Ivan Braginski's sister?" Gillian growled fiercely, thinking of the Russian from her childhood and her hate for him.
"Yes?" Antonio squeaked, slinking away from the girl's harsh glare.
"That fucker," She said lowly.
Then, as a customer entered and was soon getting rung up up by this Katyusha girl, Gillian turned on her heel and began making her way to one of the doors when Antonio followed grimly. "Your shift isn't over," He stated.
"Cover for me then," She sighed as if it should've been obvious.
And as she was out the door, she didn't want to admit it or even think about it, but she, the girl who claimed relationships were pointless and preferred to be alone, might have a crush on her best friend.