Hey, this is my first Hetalia story so be kind reviews will keep me updating… oh, and one more thing. If I owned anything but the story itself, I wouldn't be writing this.
Hope you enjoy!
Because he loves you
Chapter 1
Alfred was bored. He couldn't stand being bored, being bored for old people.
Or old nations.
"Like Iggy!" The American ingeniously thought to himself, picking up the phone and dialing England's familiar number.
It seemed to take forever before Arthur answered his phone but eventually Alfred heard a satisfactory click on the other end of the line.
"Hey Old Man!" Alfred instantly yelled down the line he quickly continued before the other nation had a chance to respond, "hey, I'm like, totally dying of boredom up here man, I'm gonna come visit you! Are you in tomorrow? I'll get the morning plane and…" Alfred trailed off as he noticed all he was hearing on the other end was heavy breathing.
"Iggy…?" He questioned.
"Shh!" came the reply, "Alfred listen, do not come here ok?" He heard Arthur hiss down the line.
"Why?" Alfred asked, beginning to feel a deep panic rise in response to Arthur's behavior. "What's wrong?"
"Nothing, just stay away!" suddenly the sound of a gunshot being fired sounded out in the background, "FUCK!" Arthur cried out.
"Iggy? Iggy? ARTHUR!" Alfred called desperately into the phone.
He heard an alien voice chuckle.
Then the line went dead.
Earlier…
Arthur Kirkland enjoyed many things in life.
A stroll along the beach, freshly made crumpets, the occasional (but becoming more frequent) visit from Alfred, but nothing more so than to curl up with a warm cup of tea, usually Earl Grey, and read a book by the fire.
…Well.
Maybe that wasn't quite as good as having Alfred visit he thought to himself, a small smile playing across his lips, but it sure was close.
After Arthur had chosen his book of the night, Great Expectations by Charles Dickens, and opened to the page he wanted, he settled back to take his first sip of tea.
Unfortunately, just s the teacup reached his lips the doorbell rang.
"Bloody America." Arthur cussed, all fond thoughts banished from his mind, replaced with annoyance, "wanker could've at least called me first, instead of rudely showing up in the middle of the night!"
Arthur stopped at the door, unless its Francis he thought, suddenly not wanting to open the door.
The doorbell rang again.
"Fine!" he yelled, "what do you want?" he questioned, opening the door at the same time. He had expected to see either the Frog or the Yank, he got neither. Standing on his door step holding his trusty faucet, was Russia.