Disclaimer(s): Hetalia belongs to Hidekaz Himaruya. Because if I did, Spain and Romano would be an established couple.
I also don't own the Citroen DS. It belongs to Citroen. It's still looking like a very cool , very slimy thing to me.
Francis' French belongs to Yahoo!BabelFish, no I don't really know what that means.
Spain's cheesy pick-up lines belongs to youknowhoyouare who tried it on me.
And so.
Antonio Fernandez Carriedo sat on the front steps of his block of apartments, waiting in the chill morning air for his friend to arrive. He himself was 10 minutes late, but his friends were always later so it didn't matter. He was cheerfully whistling a flamenco tune along to the birdsong when his ears caught the telltale purr of an engine and instinctively, he leapt up and retreated to the relatively safer patch of grass next to the front steps.
No less than a foot where he had been previously sitting was a flashy red and blue Citroen DS. A blonde head was poking out of the driver's window.
"Francis!" Antonio called out, waving and running towards the car with a big smile. Summer break had just ended, and Antonio had spent majority of the one-month holiday in Spain with his family.
"Bonjour, Antonio," Francis replied with an equally broad smile as Antonio pulled the car door open and slid into the seat.
Once Antonio's butt was in contact with the smooth leather, Francis peeled out of the driveway, nearly causing his friend to fly out of the window. "Gil's not here today?" Antonio managed as he felt around for the safety belt (if it was even there). The car would usually contain the third member of their little group before making it to Antonio's house.
Francis shrugged. "His stone block of a brother told me he had left for school earlier, which is something new for someone like Gilbert," he let out a smirk. "But I'm not complaining. My precious cars are better off without him." Both he and Antonio let out a shudder at the memory of the one and only time Francis had let Gilbert drive – he had ended up wrecking the car. And then there was the time he had brought along ice cream… not pretty.
"How was your holiday?"
"The usual. Parties, girls, girls, more girls. Oh, and there was a young man I met at this bar downtown. I swear, I'd have gotten into his pants that night if he hadn't disappeared. He has blonde hair and sexy green eyes and a gorgeous figure, except for maybe his eye brows, which were ..."
Antonio smiled to himself at his friend's reply. He was used to him being such a flirt. "Guys, girls, it doesn't matter to me at all~" was what Fracis said.
"…and I know Spanish ladies are one of the sexiest – not as sexy as French but anyway – so did you manage to get yourself one?"
"What?" Antonio said absently, thinking about the new patch of tomatoes he was growing in the yard behind his block.
"Spanish ladies, Tonio!" Francis' voice drew on an agitated tone. "Love! Passion!"
Antonio looked at his friend, trying to decipher what the blonde was saying. "I…didn't get any Spanish girlfriends?" He ventured. Francis shot him a horrified look.
"You go to Spain and not get any Spanish sex? Mon dieu! Quel est le problème avec vous?"
"Mon dew what?"
"I know that sometimes you are dense and – and, but how can you not have any Spanish sex?"
"I'd like it if you didn't talk about my country like –"
"No charm! –"
"like they're whores –"
" – no skills! –"
"But I'm not even interested!"
There was a second of sudden silence as the information started to slowly sink into Francis' brain.
Suddenly, the car swerved towards the lane on the left, right into oncoming traffic. "Francis!" Antonio yelled, reaching over to turn the steering wheel just in time to prevent a head-on collision with another car. The ensuing angry honks from angrier drivers seemed to shake Francis out of whatever daze he was in and he silently took the wheel again. Antonio simply stared tensely at him. After that brief near-death experience, the two of them drove along in relative silence with thumping hearts and mixed emotions.
"You..are you really Spanish?" Antonio sighed.
"Yes I am Spanish, Francis. Just as much as you are French. There's no need to question my heritage that I come –"
"From the 'Country of Passion'," Antonio brightened up and smiled.
"Exactly! You're so smart, Francis!"
"If you don't get a girl in one week, I'll post those embarrassing pictures I have of you online."
"Wait, one week to do what?"
"To make sure you have the passionate Spanish charm, bien sûr."
"But – but I'm not you. One week is too short!" And how did the conversation digress into this? Antonio asked himself.
"Fine then. Thirty days is all you have to get a girl, or else those embarrassante pictures are getting posted to my blog," Francis said, smirking at the thought of those pictures. "Deal?"
"…Deal."
Francis smirked to himself as he pressed down on the pedal, zooming towards school with a light heart and a feeling of someone happy that for once things were going his way. Antonio grimaced to himself as he pressed against the seat, wishing he could just melt into the soft leather and not have to go through with the deal. Getting a girlfriend and being in a relationship was okay with him (he was male, it was only natural for him to want a girlfriend), but not with a time limit of thirty fleeting days, a penalty of embarrassing pictures and the ticking time bomb that was one highly excitable and sexually devious Francis Bonnefoy.
Romina carefully painted on a layer of salmon coloured concealer on the area with her fingertip, making sure that the strokes were even and the concealer didn't clump up. As she painted, she slowly worked outwards, blending in the concealer with her own skin tone. Once, she applied a little more pressure than necessary and winced in the resulting pain. When she was done, she angled her head this way and that to make sure that the area was perfectly flat and even before letting it dry. She mixed two shades of foundation together to get a hue closer to her own lightly tanned one, and lightly dabbed in onto the concealer once it had dried, taking care not to smudge the concealer. Finally, she used a compact puff to dab on a little translucent powder as well as to smoothen out the entire area.
Looking into the mirror, she again angled her head to make sure that the makeup was not noticeable. Satisfied with her work, she washed her hands and forearms, rubbing to make the foundation mix come off, and then rinsed and dried her brushes. Collecting her assortment of tubes, bottles, brushes and compacts, she stuffed them into her makeup kit, which was in turn stuffed into her bag.
She gave herself an once-over before turning to leave the girl's restroom. On her way out, she dropped the bag of ice into the garbage can.
Felica Vargas hummed to herself happily as she bounded through the corridors looking for her sister. The moment they had reached school, her beloved sister had left her side and run away somewhere. Felicia had tried to follow her, but she was never the athletic one of the two. And when Romina wanted to be fast, she was fast. And now that Felicia had something wonderful to tell her, Romina was not in sight. She sighed as she flitted through the thickening crowd around the corridors. She knew the reason why Romina always had to run away, but she was too afraid to eliminate the reason. She loved her sister with all her heart - not as much as her future boyfriend, maybe - they were twins, after all!
It was Romina who killed the spiders for her, Romina who brought home tomatoes for the pasta sauce, Romina who looked after her when their grandpa was away on one of his tours, Romina who always protec -
Ah! Found her!
"Sorella!" Felicia exclaimed cheerfully, running up to her sister. Her smile faltered a little, however, when she saw Romina's face. "Sorella! Look what I got!" Romina shifted the weight of books in her arms with an impassive expression.
"Yeah, what?" Romina asked brusquely. Felicia held up a tube of some gel.
"Look! Feliks says it can make the bruises heal faster!" Romina rolled her eyes.
"Wow, how cool!" She said sarcastically, "I don't need that bitch's sympathy." Romina slammed her locker door close and brushed past her twin sister to make her way to her classroom.
Felicia stood alone for a moment before leaning against the cool metal of the locker door. She wondered why her chest felt so heavy and why there were tears in her eyes.
He was not having any luck. Not at all.
Lady Luck must have taken the day off today.
"Please, Katyusha, for just thirty days?" He pleaded with the best kicked-puppy look he could muster. The girl in question, the wonderfully endowed Katyusha, blushed but firmly shook her head.
"I'm sorry Antonio, but Vanya…he will be heartbroken," Katyushua spoke tenderly of her brother, even referring to him with a childhood nickname. "Why don't you ask Belle?" She offered as an afterthought, though she was sure Antonio would not ask the girl.
Sure enough, Antonio's face fell at the prospect. Nevertheless, he cheerfully said a "Thanks, Katyusha!" before closing his locker. He had already tried asking Belle, the short-haired and equally cheerful girl from Belgium, but she too had turned him down in favour of her brother. He could still remember the fight between the siblings that had erupted over his fling with her in their first year.
But that had been two years ago and now it was his last year in Hetalia Academy. The years had flown by; times had changed and so had he. Gone were the carefree days of running around and pulling pranks on unsuspecting victims with Francis and Gilbert (though they occasionally still did, but it was kept down to a minimum). There were finals to study for now…
…and come to think of it, weren't they only three months away…?
"The heck? Watch where you're going!" An angry voice pulled him out of his depressing thoughts. He looked down to see a brown-haired girl glaring up at him. She was on the floor, busy picking up books that had most certainly fallen from her arms. His mouth was open. He had been about to apologize to her when all the "I'm sorry"s and "I'll help you"s flew out of his mind entirely.
"Do you have a plaster?" he asked, crouching down in front of her.
"What?" She asked, incredulous.
"Because I scraped my knees falling for you."
Oh, Antonio didn't get scraped knees, but he did get a History textbook thrown into his face as the girl scrambled up and yelled something that sounded a lot like 'Fuck you!' before storming off.
All he could think of was how beautiful her mahogany hair had seemed, how brilliant her fiery hazel eyes had seemed, how her blush was so, terribly adorable.
Just like a tomato.
The huge grin on his face would not go away.
She went back to the bathroom. This time, she did not deposit her bag on the counter but went into a cubicle and sat on the closed toilet seat. Pulling up her knees to her chest, she gently touched her cheeks.
They still burned.
She had to resist the urge to bury her head in her arms because then all the carefully applied makeup would be ruined. So all she did was will her heart to stop beating so fast as she let herself out and padded over to the mirror to make sure that yes, the makeup was still flawless.
But her cheeks were so terribly red with the blush, she looked just like a tomato.
"Feli! How was the gel? It's like, awesome, right?" Feliks greeted her friend who had just returned to their classroom. Felicia replied with a small smile.
"Yeah, it was great, but can I keep it for a while longer?"
"Like, of course! I, like, totally recommend you to like, get some yourself!" Feliks said with an elaborate flourish.
"Thanks."
It was fifteen minutes into homeroom when she finally stepped into the classroom. Her desk was right at the back of the class (perfect for carrying out downright improper acts) so she managed to sneak into her seat without the teacher noticing.
Her classmates, however, noticed. A murmur ran through the class.
She kept quiet and glared at anyone who looked her way.
What did she care, anyway?
He was not having any luck. Not at all.
But how could Lady Luck have abandoned the awesome him?
He had sulkily wandered the corridors of the school until the bell rang, and then continued to sulk for majority of the duration of the biology lesson in his seat at the back of the class. The only thing that could bring him out of his bad mood was the very same one that sent him head first into it in the first place.
Scrap that. He still had Roddy to cheer him up. He grimly resolved to use Roddy to the utmost fullest and spent the next hour and half of Chemistry to plan how he was going to go about doing so.
done! -flails around-
This is the first chapter of the first multi-chapter fic I'm doing! I hope you like(d) it! I'm still trying to improve my writing, so if you have any suggestions / criticism / pointers, feel free to tell me (more like, TELL ME NAO, RAWR). and I'm still working on trying to get the characters IC, so pardon me if they are a bit off... AND LAWL, yes I know Gakuen-AUs are one of the most widely used AUs, but seriously, all my happy, interesting events of my life happened and are still happening in school.
(and tell me if there's any spelling and/or grammar mistakes. I tend to overlook those and I've no Beta but I've tried!)