This is an idea for a fic that I've had for way too long, so I decided to finally write it! In all honesty it'll probably be boring as shit in this chapter and possibly the next one too, but I hope anyone who reads enjoys regardless.
Rated M for future smut.
I do not own hetalia.
The world is ever changing. That is not an opinion, nor a thought. Simply a fact. Everything passes by as time went on and nobody realized what they have until it is all gone. I like to think I was never like that. I took in everything around me when I could. I always watched the clouds float by, the tree colors slowly morph into a new hue and their heights quickly change from one to another. I would watch everyone's faces morph into something new; something beautiful, something ugly. It is easy to see the change in life, for my own life was too mundane to not. I watched everything around me, for I had nothing better to do. No matter how hard I tried though, I simply could not change myself.
Physically, I was born a chubby blonde boy, eyelashes too long, skin too soft, lips too pouted, everything too feminine. I grew out of being chubby and became a freakishly tall, lanky young man. I was still too delicate for my own good. Minding the inevitable change of my physicality, all I wanted to do was change who I am. I wished I was bold, loud, boisterous. I wished I was noticeable, I wished to be someone that people remembered. I wasn't though, and that would never change.
I felt stupid getting so deep into my thoughts, for all I was supposed to do was write everything I could about myself in five minutes. All I had written about was how I speak French and play the piano and the violin. The bell had rang, and my English teacher asked us to leave our papers on the front desk. In tiny cursive letters, I wrote my signature. Matthew Williams. Even my name was boring. I left the class quick after the bell had sounded, and speedily walked to lunch, just to sit there silently on my phone, deciding not to get up and eat or anything. Just another silent period. Or so I thought.
"Matt!" A familiar voice yelled out, looking up from my phone, my older brother Alfred ran into the cafeteria, despite the teachers and security guard yelling at him to stop running.
"Stop running, Al, you're not a toddler," I said softly to the rowdy blonde kid, who suddenly skidded to a stop in front of my table, a huge smile plastered on his face. "What are you even doing here?"
"Bro, I didn't tell you? Oh my god! I got my schedule changed, I have lunch with you now!" He stood with his fists resting on his hips, so proud of himself and his accomplishment. In all honesty, I had no clue whether or not I should be happy. On one hand, I wouldn't be sitting alone, on the other hand, well.. I already deal with Alfred and his rambunctiousness all day at home. There's nothing I could do about it anyways, I wasn't going to completely change my schedule just to get out of lunch. Besides, this is the last year I'll see him in school before we're both off to college. I laughed at the thought - my older brother and I, going to college at the same time.
"That's great," I smiled. Alfred scurried to the seat next to me and plopped himself down. He began telling me about all his teachers and the friends in his classes. I told him about my teachers. I didn't quite have friends in my classes. It was okay though, at least I had the always-happy-Al in lunch with me.
By the end of the first school day, I was genuinely exhausted. From what, I'm unaware, but I was. The last bell had altered everyone to the end of the day and I booked. I walked to the north part of my school and went outside, breathing in the warm air that was still lingering from the summer that was soon to end. I leaned against the poles outside, waiting for Alfred to come out so we can walk home. He was too popular, he was probably being held up by his friends. The buses started their engines, readying themselves to leave the school grounds. Alfred and his friends, as well as me, all knew how to drive, so it didn't matter that they were still screwing around in the school. Alfred and I preferred to walk home though.
I stared at the trees around the school as the buses began to leave, daydreaming of the day when I see the leaves begin to change their color. Emerald green to warm fiery colors, eventually losing their leaves totally. That's what I really couldn't wait for. It reminded me of home, Canada. Snow and the always red maple leaves hanging from the trees everywhere you'd look.
Originally I had grown up in Canada with papa, dad, Alfred. I remember papa telling me how him and dad had met, dad visiting Canada from England. They hated each other, dad hated papa's heavy French accent, papa hated dad's British one. I don't know how they grew to love each other in all honesty. Maybe they've always bickered like they do now, the definition of 'fighting like a married couple'. They adopted me and my brother together when we were five and six. Originally Alfred and I had been split up, adopted by different foster parents. I stayed in Canada, Alfred in America. I don't remember why we were brought back together, but we were, and papa and dad adopted us both. Alfred ended up being a typical American, I must say. It was sort of endearing, though typically obnoxious. We moved to America when we were 10 and 11, and for the past seven years all I could think about was how much I missed Canada. I belonged there. I fit in there.
I continued to reminisce on all I remember from Canada, still waiting for Alfred to appear. I stared down at my feet. Loud revving of an engine had sounded, and instead of clean converse and a bubbly greeting, appeared old black boots and the inquiry for 'a light', right beside me.