Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia.
Note: I would be using their character names, mostly. This is an AU fic—a very AU one. Also, I would like to apologize early for any out of character behaviour and/or poor plotting.
Warning: This is a BL (BoysLove) fic. If you are not interested or strongly against it, I insist that you should look for something else to read. Thank You.
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A person sits on the furthest table at the café. The place had just recently opened, so there were only a few customers around. The person had pale skin and golden hair. He sits there irritated, as always. The soft jazz music in the background might be the problem, but everyone else would say otherwise. Today the sun shone as bright as usual, but the customer would always wear a suit when everyone else wore shorts and tank tops. He must be a very hardworking man. A co-worker, one of the chefs of the café, would then approach him with a knowing smile and take his order for him. There were waiters such as his self around, so it felt rather odd. It seemed more of the co-worker's habit since he would be the one to announce the order: a cup of tea. His co-worker would then go through the kitchen doors and reappear soon after with the never changing order. It was just as always—a routine.
His co-worker nearly has the same colour of hair as the customer; he had eyes that border the colours purple and blue, and he would often sport a growing beard. He pushed the swinging door to the kitchen and went through it. At any minute now, he would be going through the doors again to serve the customer as always. The sound of the door swinging returns and Françis comes out with a small tray in hand. But instead of heading towards the customer, he turned to another's direction. He was heading for one of the waiters. It was not the one sleeping on the counter with a goofy grin on his face. "Kiku, mon chér, give this to the man over there." Françis points at the man he was supposed to serve. "I'm getting bored of his reactions, you see. He has no life—no life at all! It's not fun anymore."
Françis returns to the kitchen soon after. Kiku looks at the swinging door, the small tray in his hands, and then to the customer. The routine ended at such an odd manner, but it did not surprise him since everything in the café is strange in the first place. He could never understand people at times, especially since most of the customers were foreigners. Kiku blinks, takes a small breath, and heads over to the customer of pale skin and golden hair.
Arthur looks up and is a bit surprised that it was not the 'bloody Frenchman'. The one serving him was actually a waiter. The person had dark coloured hair and eyes. He was not like most people in the city because of his exotic features. Arthur ponders if the person could speak proper English…
Silence. Jazz music. People chatting—a person snores lightly.
Kiku sees that the customer had green eyes that reveal nothing; long lashes surround it. The person gave off an impression of an aristocrat, with the way he rested his chin on his hand. Kiku wonders if the person is someone who is always served with a silver spoon in his mouth…
Silence. Jazz music. People chatting—the person is woken up by an angry part-timer. "What the fuck areyou doing, you lazy bastard!" The person seems very happy to see the angry part-timer. "Just taking a quick nap, Lovino." "Bullshit. For three hours!"
Arthur turns his attention to the commotion and makes a sour expression. Kiku steals back his attention by putting the tea cup down on the table. Everything was becoming noisy. He should've brought earplugs, which he keeps forgetting to buy. Kiku tries to serve a small plate of biscuits—"I did not order for that." Kiku looks at the irritated Arthur, who was almost glaring at the small plate in his hand; he returns the plate on the tray, concluding to himself that he was being a bother. Kiku was not able to understand most of what the customer said; he spoke too quickly, and the heavy accent did not help anything. "My apologies, sir." He hoped he just said the right thing.
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"Kiku, why didn't you give the man the food?" Françis picks up the plate and leaves it on the kitchen counter. Soon it shall be devoured by the other chef, who is currently busy preparing another customer's meal. It was one of the café's specialties: their version of a spaghetti Bolognese. "He said that he did not order for it."
"And when I suddenly felt bad for him, my generosity gets ignored—the nerve of him!"
"Did something bad happen to him?"
"Not really. It's just a hangover."
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Kiku is behind the counter, making a simple drink. Antonio is dozing beside him. He is lucky, in general opinion, Lovino left already. Feliciano was making another order, biscuit in mouth. Françis is about to head out of the café for some fresh air and probably two handfuls of pretty faces. He is closest to Kiku. "Take care of the idiot over there—" Kiku thought of his co-worker to be a good man. "—make sure he doesn't do anything while I'm gone." A wave of uneasiness soon washes over his whole body. He nearly overfills the glass with the drink he made.
Lucky for Kiku, nothing really happens when Françis will be gone for the whole hour. The customer raises his hand. Kiku thought it meant that he needed the bill, like always. When he attended to the customer with a bill in hand, the customer stopped him. "I would just like to know if you have any other sorts of tea here." It seemed as if he was holding back a few words. The customer instantly goes in and out of polite contemplation. "For a café, it seems unusual to have only one flavour." Stop giving me the same shitty thing.
"Would you like me to give you the menu?" Kiku sees the realisation the customer went through. The customer looks away, trying to hide his face a bit. "No. Just give me something different."
"Very well, then."
Arthur sees the waiter walk away and concludes that he could speak a higher than average level of English, considering his nationality. Kiku walks away and concludes the customer to be indeed a spoiled man, judging from the reaction from the suggestion of looking up a menu. Both men predict that they might get along fairly well in the future.
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I'm just hoping that the whole thing is confusing you. Ha ha ha.
In the later chapters, you will see why.