Day 1: Snow

Tick, tock, tick, tock.

Arthur had waited twenty-three bloody years for this moment and god forbid if anything tried to come between him and his soulmate. He strode down the sidewalk, indulging in his leisurely late afternoon walk. His woolen trench coat and scarf were a tad too thin for the brisk winter air, but Arthur wanted to make a good first impression. The slim coat showed off his thin waist and his grey scarf brought out his eyes.

Gloved fingers rested in his pockets, as Arthur turned the corner. He took deep breaths, inhaling, exhaling, to remain calm and collected. Arthur focused on the yards he walked past and, being the cynic he was, critiqued the shovelling job of every single house on the street and glared at the Christmas lights people had been too lazy to take down. Hopefully his soulmate was not one of those types.

Up ahead, a couple of teenagers were yelling at each other, in the midst of a snowball fight. Arthur shook his head, eying them with an unimpressed, disdainful gaze. Children.

As Arthur approached that house, he could pick up more details of the two fighting teens. Both were blond and wore glasses. One was decked in a tacky, disgustingly patriotic red and blue parka lined with stars, the other in a slightly less tacky red and white ski jacket. Arthur winced as the tackier one dove onto a half buried shrub to avoid a snowball. The poor plant. Surely his soulmate would have more poise than that.

Across the street a young couple walked in the opposite direction, engrossed in a strong discussion involving wild gestures and raised voices. Arthur watched them, wondering what they were talking about. He wasn't paying attention to where he was going and just barely registered the cry of "Hey watch out!"

Too late.

A ball of snow collided with the side of his face, drenching him in cold, cold snow and shattering his carefully pieced together composure. In a few short, lengthy seconds there was silence. Time had stopped. No one moved, until Arthur slowly reached up to shake the snow off his scarf, out of his hair, and wiped it off his face.

His eyes narrowed into poisonous green slits, fixing his deadly gaze on to the perpetrator. He was so overcome by a sudden wave of rage that he didn't hear the soft click of his watch coming undone, or the sudden lack of pressure on his wrist or recognize the pure love that practically oozed out of the brat's blue eyes.

Arthur opened his mouth, preparing to unleash a tirade of angry insults.

Yet again, the bloody twat thwarted his plans.

The teen tramped through the snow, towards Arthur, arms wide open. There was a little patch of ice on the sidewalk. The idiot conveniently stepped on the little patch of ice. As expected, he slipped on the ice. His arms flailed wildly as he fought to regain his balance. He failed. He crashed into a fuming Arthur and the two of them went down, a tangled mess of thrashing limbs. A loud thump resounded when the back of Arthur's head met the snowy ground. A string of very colourful swears, courtesy of Arthur, filled the air.

The stupid teen made no move to get off of Arthur. At first, Arthur was almost worried he had somehow hurt himself. Then he realized he was being squeezed in a very, very, uncomfortably tight embrace. The other person nuzzled Arthur's neck, whispering a string of embarrassingly sappy phrases. "My honey, I can't believe it's you! You're so beautiful, you know that. This is amazing. You're amazing. Gosh, I love you so much I've had our futures planned out since forever! Mmm, sweetheart, you're so cute we're perfect together! I'm your hero!"

Arthur spluttered something incomprehensible, frozen in shock.

"...and we're going to have two cats and we're going to give them super awesome names like Hero and Superman. Oh I almost forgot we need to go on a date. I like McDonald's so I was thinking about picking up some burgers and having a picnic."

Eventually, the (heavy) idiot released Arthur and rested his weight on his arms instead. Still hovering above Arthur, he flashed a blinding grin and stuck out a hand. "By the way, I'm Alfred F. Jones!"

Arthur could have cried.

From the porch, the other teenager - the less stupid one - held up his phone, capturing this moment forever. Judging by the murderous look on his brother's soul mate's face, Matthew's efforts would be well rewarded.

I don't own Hetalia~