I was looking for a way to aliviate some writers block, so I found a random word generator . it gave me 5 random words. I could only post 4 here.. the 5th is on my AOO account, same pen name. The first is rated T for swearing, the middle two G because they're just cute and inoccent, the last one, Mile, is rated M because its soul crushing and I'm very sorry...
I don't own hetalia! enjoy!
Address
A Pair of green eyes looked down at the piece of paper in hand. 439 67th street. this was the right address… Arthur shifted his laptop bag on his shoulder and looked around again. a hand went to his messy ash hair as he spun looking for a different 439 on the street. there wasn't anything here. just a concrete column showing the matching numbers. What kind of Job interview was this? It had to be a joke. He gave an irritated sigh and shoved the paper back into his pocket. "just bloody perfect. wasted an afternoon for nothing…"
He was turning to walk away when he felt the hand on his coat. he turned about with his thick eyebrows furrowed in confusion at the interruption. he saw an old women. "please… could you spare some change?" Her clothing was tattered and hung off a bony frame. curly wisps of grey hair peeked out from underneath the hat she wore against the cold. pity filled his eyes. his hands dug in his pockets and pulled forth his Wallet. he withdrew a crisp twenty dollar bill and pressed it in her hands. she thanked him and he smiled kindly waving as she took off towards the near by coffee shop.
Well, if nothing else he got to help someone… He was about to walk away when a car pulled up beside him. The window rolled down, inside was a man, there was nothing overly impressive about him. He had a strong jaw with a bit of scruff, blonde like the shoulder length waves that were pulled back from his face. his azure eyes sparkled with amusement as they regarded the brit. for some reason it froze Arthur in his place. The man exited the car, he was tall, the grey tailored perfectly to his form. The shorter brit shifted uncomfortably in his simple button down and jacket.
" Are you Arthur Kirkland?"
The elegant man ask. The accent was definitely french. oh bloody hell.. a frog, of course. but how did he know his name? He frowned
"yes, how did you know my name?"
a dazzling smile spread across the mans face. Arthurs heart most definitely did NOT skip a beat. a hand reached out and took his, giving a good strong hand shake.
"congratulations, you got the job"
Arthurs face looked on in confusion. a hand tapped his shoulder. he jumped and turned. the slight women from before stood behind him. except.. her hair was now neatly pulled back, her clothing properly hung from her frame making her look stronger. she held out the crisp 20 he had handed her, a small smile on her lips. Arthur was confused but took the bill. her eyes slid towards The man in the grey suit.
"Good job Francis, you may take us to the house. assuming... " she turned and looked towards Arthur once more, cool grey eyes looking over him "you're still interested in the assistant position. you will of course be expected to work closely with Francis here, he is the head of my security."
The job interview… that had been the interview?! he looked at the women then at Francis, he blushed at the warm smile he received and numbly he nodded. he looked back at the women, "y-yes of course!"
she gave a knowing look that confused him then gestured to the car, "good, then shall we? Arthur you will ride in the front seat, I prefer to ride alone. Francis, we'll be heading home now"
Francis bowed his head slightly and opened the back door "of course madam". Arthur went around to the passenger side, completely unsure of what he had just gotten into. All the Ad had said was 'discrete computer literate individual needed for personal assistant job. room and board included with generous salary'. but his eyes wandered to the man now climbing into the drivers seat. he looked well enough… a smile graced the face of the frenchman.
"get ride for the best job you've ever had mon ami"
and with that, they were off never to return to 439 67th street again.
Frost
Matthew loved the winter. the bitter cold was refreshing, the blankets of white snow enchanting. building snowmen, tobogganing until your fingers were frozen and you were out of breath, hot chocolate in front of the fire curled up with someone special, all of it excited him. so when he woke up in the morning to see white swirls on the window he had bolted up to investigate. upon looking outside he was excited to see every branch of every tree outside sparkling, covered in a thick layer of frost his eyes lit up.
He turn from the window and jumped on the bed. "Gilbert! Gil Wake up!"
The albino groaned and covered his head with the blanket "no… goway" he grumbled
"but Gil! frost!" he chuckled at the next moan and rolled his eyes. and bounded out of the room calling. "I'm makin Pancakes! so you're gonna wanna get up anyway!"
his long time boyfriend would most likely never understand the canadians extreme reaction to that first frost. he sighed, frost was cold… it was frozen water. right now he was warm… lovely warmth. but pancakes. he grumbled as he sat up, the blanket falling away from his bare chest. lean limbs stretched and popped as he dragged himself from the call of more sleep towards the call of maple syrup.
Dragging down the steps wrapped in a dark blue housecoat, Gilbert yawned. red eyes barely open enough to see the stairs. "what time isit birdie?" he slurred as he hit the main floor and shuffled towards the smell of coffee.
"uhm… well…" came the sheepish reply.
Gil cracked an eye open wider noting the blondes now red face. that early huh? he sighed and plopped down on the chair in front of the counter. he held up a hand. "on second thought I don't want to know… coffee?" a cup was placed in front of him, followed by Matthews face as he leaned across the counter to kiss the German in apology.
"I'm sorry… I just get a bit carried away. But the pancakes will be ready soon" his voice was quiet and soothing. Gilbert hummed in acknowledgement. it was hard to be mad, the Canadian was so damn cute when he was excited. what was one day up at a ridiculous hour? then his eyes snapped open… except… he looked over at Matthew who was adding powered sugar on twin stacks of pancakes. it was going to snow soon… he suspected there were going to be a lot of early mornings. the frost was only the beginning.
Mud
Splat!
the once golden blonde hair was now coated in thick, brown, dripping slop. "uuugh! what the- hey!" the small american wiped it off his face before it could drip into his eyes." Standing over in a large mud puddle with a proud look on his face was the australian he was laughing his head off. beside him, Alfreds twin, Matthew giggled into his hand.
he glared at the pair of them until his eyes focused on a near by puddle. "oh bring it on!" he shouted and ran for the puddle, he scooped up two handfuls and ran towards his brothers, they were now running away giggling. mud was slung back and forth coating the three boys head to toe. soon the two pale skinned, golden blondes were nearly indistinguishable from the tanned, chestnut brown haired Steven.
teamwork was soon a thing of the past, the defining curl and cowlick disappearing under the layers muck howls of laughter and screeches of delight filled the woods behind their house. they played like this for an hour before their father came out to see what the ruckus was about. The boys couldn't help but giggle behind their hands at the shade of red Arthur went as he scolded them, confusing their names at every turn. the only way to tell them apart were the eyes. violet, blue and green looking out from under the cover of caked and partly dried mud.
The screams were louder, but so were the giggles, as Arthur turned the hose on them each in turn revealing their identities. then they were all shuffled into the bathroom for a proper cleaning. their tiny child bodies all fitting comfortably in the tub that had been filled with warm bubbly water. when arthur went to fetch a wash cloth, it quickly Matthew turned it into a splash war, bubbles, and brown water all over the bathroom floor and upon his return, Arthur.
when all the boys were clean and well scolded it was dinner. Alfred took his turn to cause trouble. who knew Mashed potatoes could fly that far? It had missed his target and landed on Arthurs stunned face. the boys all broke into giggles and soon potatoes flew everywhere. Arthur hid under the table.
after a second quick bath, the boys were tucked up into their beds and told a bedtime story. before the story was even done, Arthur was asleep on the end of Stevens bed. the boys were all giggling as they slipped into Alfreds bed and curled up to sleep after a long day of playing, resting up so they could think of new ways to cause mayhem the next day.
Mile
alfred wiped the sweat from his brow and looked at his phone. only another mile left until he reached his goal for the day. Training for this marathon was going to kill him. He tipped his water bottle up and drank greedily. he had to do this. he had to push, he had to keep going. he grunted and pushed through the burning in his legs.
Running this Marathon wasn't his dream. It wasn't even his idea. Alfred, infact, hated running. he hated it with a passion. just running, no ball to chase, no bases to clear. what was the point? But Mattie had loved it. He had watched him train, run half marathons, train some more. he was all pumped for his first real full one when they got the news.
He had been training like mad, but it seemed he was only getting weaker, the pains had started coming out of no where. Matthew would be fine, then suddenly he would double over and scream in pain that shot straight through him. After a few weeks Alfred dragged him to the doctor. It was the worst day of Alfred's life.
He sat with his twin after they had finished the tests and looked over everything. their hands closed together as they saw the doctors face when he came in. It was pancreatic cancer. Alfred had numbed completely as the doctor talked about options… but he had fully returned when he heard life expectancy
"At this stage, with this type… it's generally only three to six months… sometimes people hang on for a year but honestly, it's usually not a good year."
Matthew just sat there staring and nodding. his eyes wide but face calm. Alfred had asked how it could happen. his brother was healthy, he didn't smoke, he wasn't overweight, he was only 26! the doctor had simply given a sympathetic look and replied that it just happened sometimes and they weren't sure why. by the end of the appointment it was Alfred who was crying against his dying brothers chest.
He had sat by his brothers bedside. for four months before he passed. his last day was horrible to watch. he spent it gasping for breath, crying out for people who weren't there, he was weak, skin pale and cold. no amount of blankets stopped the shivering. in the end Alfred had held him, giving his body heat to his twin as the life faded from Matthew.
His phone beeped signaling the end of his training for the day. Alfred bent over and braced his hands against his knees breathing deeply. he was going to do it… he was going to run and he was going to do it for his brother. tears flooded his eyes and he dropped to his butt on the path. he put his head between his knees and let himself cry.
"every mile is for you Mattie"
