Happy birthday Hungary! I decided to write a PruHun drabble since, though I ship Prussia with just about everyone, PruHun is my Hetalia OTP and I never do anything with it.

This takes place after the crotch cloth episode, so Hungary has come to terms with her feminity and Prussia

I do not own Hetalia!

Roderich was absolutely infuriating, Elizaveta thought furiously. Even at the best of times he was such a stuck-up snob that she was amazed she didn't snap and send a sword flying at him. She had to remind herself that she was a lady and that she should act like one, not like the barbarian child she had grown up as. As such, it would be completely out of line for her to beat him to within an inch of his life.

She cherished these stolen moments alone in the forest, pretending nothing had changed and strolling barefoot along the trodden path without a worry in the world. There wasn't a sound to be heard save for the natural song of the forest; the chirping birds, the rustling of leaves as a gentle breeze filtered through them…

"Kyaaa!" Elizaveta shrieked as suddenly someone dropped down from the trees. It was Gilbert, dangling upside down from a branch with his legs hooked around it, his robes hanging down and enveloping him in folds of deep blue and white. He wore an oddly stoic face, as though it were perfectly normal for him to hide in trees and scare the shit out of her. "What the hell, Gilbert?" she spat, punching him in the face. He yelped and fell from the tree, landing in a heap on the forest floor.

"I could ask you the same!" he said indignantly, righting himself and untangling himself from his robes. He glowered up at her, leaf bits and tiny twigs stuck in his ruffled hair.

"Why were you in the tree?" Elizaveta snapped.

"I was following you."

"WHY WERE YOU FOLLOWING ME?" she shrieked, hitting him again as he tried to get up.

"'cause I wanted to talk to you!" Gilbert dodged the angry blow and seized her wrist to stop more from coming her way. He still retained that look of uncharacteristic seriousness, and in a way it was cute. At their sudden close proximity, Elizaveta found herself taking notice of the little crease that formed between his eyebrows when they furrowed in thought.

"You didn't have to creep along in the trees, you could have just approached me." muttered Elizaveta.

"You're not exactly the most approachable girl there is." Gilbert retorted, touching his red and throbbing cheek with his free hand. After a tense moment, he released her wrist and she backed away from him, scowling.

"Well? What did you want to talk to me about?" she demanded.

Suddenly he looks awkward; his carmine gaze drops to his booted feet and he scuffs the dirt with a toe. He looks sulky and embarrassed, and he takes so long to speak that Elizaveta almost got fed up and left.

"I missed you."

Three words. Three simple words and Elizaveta's world spun to a halt so abruptly she felt a sensation of vertigo.

"…what?" she asked weakly.

"You heard me, Eliza. Don't play dumb. I said I missed you." His eyes flick up to meet hers and the expression in them is startling. He looks sad, almost lonely, and Elizaveta is left to wonder just where the hell the Gilbert she knew and hated was, because this most certainly was not him.

"Wha… If you missed me, why didn't you stop in sooner? You know that I live right over there," she jerked a thumb over her shoulder, "and a house call would be much more appreciated than… this."

Gilbert's lip curled as though the mere suggestion made him sick. "Visit that house? Where Roderich lives? I'd rather drink horse piss."

Despite herself, Elizaveta felt a little prick of annoyance flare up. "What do you have against Roderich? What did he ever do to you?"

"He stole my best friend from me!" Gilbert snapped. "What's happened to you, Eliza? I don't like what you've become."

"What I've become? Tell me Gilbert, what exactly have I become?" Her eyes narrowed to dangerous slits and her hands curled into fists.

With a little scoff, he rolled his eyes and looked at her almost disdainfully. It made her blood boil. "You've turned docile. You're little more than his housemaid!" he spat.

"Excuse me?" Incredulous, Elizaveta gave a wild little laugh. She opened her mouth to tell him off, but he beat her to it.

"Maybe that was a bit harsh of me… but it's true regardless. You've changed, Eliza. I hate the new you, it's not… you! You're not yourself anymore! I like your old self better, so bring her back!"

"You are so unbelievably selfish, Gilbert! Did you ever stop to think that maybe I like who I am? That maybe I changed myself for the better?" She was in his face, shouting at him, but he appeared unfazed, meeting her enraged gaze coolly.

"No. No, you don't. Don't lie to me, Eliza. I know you too well. You hate this just as much as I do."

"Don't you dare act like you know me better than I do! You know nothing!" Elizaveta pretended that the tears stinging the corners of her eyes originated from anger. "Shut up, just shut up!" She was fuming, she was seeing red, and then all of a sudden there were two alabaster hands cupping her face and Elizaveta realized that she was looking into deep vermilion eyes.

"Eliza," he murmured, his warm breath ghosting over her lips. They were so close...

Their lips met, and it was a mere gentle brush, a sweet caress lasting only a few seconds before he pulled away and retreated to what he thought to be a safe distance. She said nothing, she didn't move, only watched with round green eyes as he regarded her.

"Eliza. I miss you."

She watched wordlessly as he walked away, leaving her behind to contemplate his words.