Pairing: UKUS
Rating will go up in later chapters.
The vast layers of clouds scattering outside the plane window were a beautiful sight, truly they were. But even the serenity of the succulent clouds against the deep blue sky wasn't enough to pull Arthur out of his funk.
He'd been staring out the window of the plane for the past four hours, petulant scowl never once wavering; causing the poor chap seated on his right to eye him warily from time to time, sensing the anger radiating off Arthur and thus trying to move as far away as the small seats would allow.
Arthur didn't even notice, the only thing on his mind was that his parents had betrayed him, sent him off without care, forcing him to leave the comfort of his home and his country in order to go to university in America. Dreadful, dreadful America. In particular, it was his father that was the culprit behind Arthur's misery. It was Arthur's father who had gone to university in America himself, willingly at that, and had loved every second of it. Arthur's father who was practically the exact opposite of Arthur in personality and physique, yet still pushed his son to follow in his footsteps ("to uphold the Kirkland family name!", "to be as successful as I am!"). Arthur lost track of the excuses after a while; but even as much as he yelled and argued and pleaded, his father's position on the matter would not budge.
He would have to go to America and he would attend the same college his father did.
Arthur had tried to prolong the inevitable by convincing his parents he should take a year or two off after finishing Sixth Form and work at the local bookstore to earn some money. He had secretly hoped during those years that his father would forget about sending him to America but to no avail, at 20 years old he would be enrolled in the University of Hetalia, a so-called pristine college in bloody America.
It was complete bullocks, if you asked Arthur, anyone that knew him could recite his tirades about how much he would rather stay in England and attend a prestigious university that offered class and discipline. Not anything like senseless American schools, with their blatant disrespect for rules and force-feeding everyone McDonalds every day or whatever else they did.
And that wasn't even the worst part. Oh no. The worst part about the entire disaster was that his parents would only help him pay to go to this college if he joined the same fraternity his father was in. "I was practically the ring leader of Mu Alpha Nu, and I expect you to be the same, son. Make me proud."
Bullshit. How could he make his father proud when the last thing he wanted to do was join a dumb-arse fraternity? He'd seen the movies. He'd heard the horror stories. American fraternities were dirty, unkempt, adult sized pig-pens where beer-loving jocks pranced around wreaking havoc on unsuspecting victims. Arthur had been teased enough as it was while he lived in England, he could just imagine the torment that would befall him once he stepped foot in this "Mu Alpha Nu" or whatnot. He wouldn't fit in like his father did. His father was a built man, easily intimidating with obvious muscle mass and a mean face. On the other hand, Arthur was lean and only average height for a guy his age, more feminine then he would have preferred and less intimidating than his father.
This would truly be his undoing. Good lord how he dreaded this.
A large part of him wished his plane would experience a fatal engine malfunction and plummet into the Atlantic, letting sink all of Arthur's neurotic worries and self-pitying sorrow.
But sadly for Arthur, besides some heavy turbulence during the middle of the long flight, it was smooth sailing the rest of the way and the plane arrived peacefully in the American airport. The passengers on the plane even had the gall to clap at the end of it, just to spite Arthur's misfortune at having his fate handed to him.
He released a threatening growl of pent-up frustration and anger.
The man that had the pleasure of being seated next to him practically jumped for joy after the flight attendants delivered their final speeches and informed the passengers they could begin to disembark. The man probably felt proud of himself having survived over nine hours of the ever-menacing wrath of Arthur Kirkland and wasted no time in escaping down the aisle before Arthur could even stand.
Well, at least the Englishman knew he could still frighten a lad to tears if he so desired.
After exiting the plane and navigating through the much-too-large airport, he had been able to locate his Union Jack-embroidered suitcases with relative ease and grab a taxi.
And just like that, he was one step closer to arriving to his ultimate undoing.
Trying to ease his nerves, he chose to rest his weary head against the cool glass of the taxi; the maddening flight had not given him much a chance to relax or sleep, after all. He felt himself slipping into a daze of unconsciousness as his bleary half-open eyes took in the colors swirling past the window.
Colors of pastel and cream, soothing and caressing his mind, helping him forget about his troubles, easing and calm.
Mint-colored rabbits seemed to dance and run just outside the window, following the taxi and matching stride.
Fairies with trails of sparkles glided and flew above the rabbits' heads, gleefully spinning and circling in the air.
Pushing Arthur deeper and deeper to relax, forget, unwind; all was well. The mint colored bunnies and sparkly fairies became an enmeshment of color and sound and beauty and
"Hey kid, we're here!"
Arthur's head slammed against the window in shock; completely dazed and disoriented by being suddenly roused by the taxi driver. He had nearly forgotten where he was in the first place. And more importantly, where he was going to.
Then the taxi driver's words settled and he realized that he had finally, after years and years of fear and apprehension, made it to the one place he hated most without yet even stepping foot on the campus. The University of Hetalia was right in front of him. The nightmare was officially beginning.
The taxi driver must have seen Arthur's wide eyes and lack of movement because he decided to speed things along a bit by depositing Arthur's suitcases onto the sidewalk and then politely forcing the begrudging Englishman out of the cab.
And there Arthur was, 60 pounds—err… "dollars" poorer and standing alone on the sidewalk with only two suitcases and the clothes on his back.
Well, no use fretting over something that was now right in front of him. He would have to face this one head-on like the strong 20-year-old man that he was.
He could do this. Yes. He would do this.
Bring it on, America.
A/N: So I literally have had this story in my head for about a year….it's about time I finally started writing it! Hope you've enjoyed the first chapter!
And I'd like to give a special thanks to OutToGarden for being my beta reader for this story! (You are awesome!)