I could hear his laugh from across the room. My emerald eyes follow his voice, and I was not surprised by the sight that was unfolded before me.

Alfred Jones.

His clothes are ruppled. His hair is like bird's nest. And the upper part of his uniform was left unbuttoned.

Even so, as he sits with his friends laughing, and not caring about the world around him, and I can't help, but think how radiating his presence can be.

I want to ask him out.

I want to ask him if it's alright to hang out or if he'll give me that goofy smile he always has whenever he sees his friends. I want to feel if his hands are as rough as they seem. And I want to know if he'll be the same free spirited person he is with me.

I wrote all this thoughts and events in our "imaginary" meeting in my notebook.

I continue to write, not noticing the bell ring, and the teacher entering the class.

Lastly, I scribble down the words on my notebook. As months go by, I want to ask him for a date. I want to know if it's alright to kiss him in the cheek. If it's alright if I could hold his hand. And if it's alright if I could hug him and he—

"Excuse me," I look up, and was greeted by my teacher's glaring eyes. "Would you like to share something with the class, Mr. Kirkland? I've noticed that you've been so busy writing in your notebook this whole time."

I gulped. I must have been too engrossed with my thoughts to notice her calling me.

If this continues, I'll be forced to read this in front of class, and he'll… I look at him, and see his beautiful sky blue eyes looking at me with the same curiosity as everyone else.

I sigh.

He'll probably think I'm a disgusting, even though he doesn't know he was the one I was talking (or rather writing) about him.

I hear a tap on the floor. And once again, as I look up I can see my teacher narrowing her eyes at me. There was a hint of irritation in her eyes.

Hesitantly, I crumpled the paper before tearing it apart.

"It's nothing." I say.

The teacher huffs in response. "I'll be asking you to share those things you wrote in front of class next time I see you doing something else unrelated. Do you understand?"

I nod in understanding. "I understand." She gives me one last glare, before she continues back to the lesson proper.

I look at the pieces of my paper, before placing it at my pocket. I made a mental note to throw it later.

I shouldn't have done it in the first place.

Author: I don't really know why I suddenly felt like writing this. owo I hope you like it. I'm sorry if my fic is a bit out of character (?) I have yet to watch Hetalia, and the only reason I'm writing about this is because of my best friend, who is obsessed about it, and would not stop babbling about it during our free time. I wrote this hoping that she'll cheer up soon.

PS. The image used in the picture isn't mine to claim!

PSS. I've already have a plot bunny for this oneshot. I'm still not sure if I should continue it. Any suggestions?

Review? 8)