So I've been using this app called Prompts, which is helping me practicing my writing. This story will mostly something I work on in my freetime which means the chapters are going to be rather short unlike Secrets which is what I'm trying to work on when I get the chance. This also means that it'll be unbeta-read so I apologize in advance for grammar issues.

Anyways, as I always I hope you enjoy the story and please review, I would love to hear any feedback from the readers.

SPECIAL NOTICE: Chapters are currently being edited by my beta-reader NinjaSphynxKitten and being reworked to prevent any loopholes by me. So I apologize in advance. It should however not change the story or the enjoyment of it.

Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia; Himaruya Hidekaz own it. I own any OCs I may have used and the plot.

Chapter 1

It was a small café that Matthew had entered. Located on the northern edge of the windy city of Chicago. He had always enjoyed the peace and quiet of the place. The aroma of the coffee permeated the air, noises of small talk and the machine grinding away at the beans blending into the background. All were music to his ears.

With a soft smile, he grabbed his usual; coffee and breakfast sandwich before thanking the barista. He took long strides towards his usual spot in the corner of the café. Two armchairs separated by a small round coffee table. He always loved this spot. It gave him comfort as not a lot of people would be in this side of the café. It was also quieter even when the café became packed during the morning rush.

Once everything was set down, Matthew looked around at the small number of people who were occupying the room. Some of them were staring at their phone screens, others enjoyed their drinks, and then there were people like him, laptops out and fingers flying across the keyboard. He watched for a brief moment before getting started on his own work. Pulling out his laptop, he began to type away idly. The Canadian's violet eyes bored into the screen as he tirelessly worked on the next scene of his novel.

Matthew was a small time writer. Only a few of his stories were ever published, but none have been best sellers. He had a few good ideas on why though. His publisher and editor, the judges of every novel he's written always said he must relate it back to the audience, draw them in. Make it more realistic. A good book can connect back to the readers, but a great book makes them feel like they're living in it. It's true; he has always enjoyed stories that were able to draw in his attention and relate to, but the ones that drew him in were consider masterpieces in his eyes. Despite that his book did draw his attention... but it didn't mean that it would draw in the audience's attention as well. And that worried him.

His cousin, Arthur Kirkland, is one of the best sellers in fantasy. Only a few years older than Matthew, he had already made a name of himself in the writing industry. He's currently writing a trilogy meant to blow away his audience. He used to talk to him to ask for advice on writing, but soon realized how different they were. His advice was to capture the audience's attention in a fantasy that may seem too unrealistic to happen, but still has enough to make it work. It was great advice, no doubt for a fantasy novel, but unfortunately, the Canadian didn't think that would apply into his style of writing.

Since he was young, he has always enjoyed reading, preferring to pick up a book and read than any other thing. This lead to his passion of writing fiction. Even fairy tales were enjoyable to write, but that never satisfied him enough. What he wanted was a long fulfilling novel. Something that people would want to read again and again without a need to close the book. Unfortunately, the ones that were published were shorter stories; less than 200 pages. Even with those books published, it wasn't his best work and he knew it. It may have satisfied him to finish the book; he was overjoyed holding the first copy of his book. But it didn't last. His books weren't flying off the shelves. The characters were often called dull, lackluster. They weren't the words he'd like them to be described and it hurt to know his characters didn't convey what he wanted. Yet compared to the stories that got rejected, they had more character and plot than the others. Even if he didn't want to admit it.

"Excuse me."

His fingers paused, a bit frustrated at stopping in the middle of his sentence. But the Canadian for one was never rude. He gazed up, curious mauve eyes meeting a stranger's. His hair had an interesting way of holding up much like a Dutch friend he knew of. A contagious smile graced his face, clearing any frustration that Matthew held.

"Ana, do you mind if I sit here? It doesn't seem like there's any other seat open..." Staring straight into the blonde's violet eyes, almost mesmerizing him with beautiful golden eyes. Hesitantly, Matthew nodded, unsure about the sudden wave of anxiety he felt.

"Oh, sure... I don't mind." He spoke softly.

The man's smile brightens as he takes the seat next to him. "Thank you..."

Nodding, Matthew dropped his gaze down to the laptop, letting out a breath he didn't realize he was holding in. What just happened? It was like his presence took everything out of him. It unnerved him a lot, but he simply repositioned his hands before attempting to continue working on his story. His eyes didn't obey as they wandered to the corner, looking at the male.

There he sat, leaned back comfortably against the chair, quietly drinking his coffee as he looked around the room through his spectacles, watching. To Matthew, it was like everything in life was perfect. His demeanor was tranquil, a calming smile gracing his lips as he watched everyone go about their daily lives.

Somehow, he tilted his head to get a better view not realizing that he was full-out staring at him until it was too late. The Asian had turned his head towards the blond, questioning.

"Ana? Is something wrong?" He asked.

The Canadian shook his head, quickly. Last thing he wanted was a stranger to think he was some kind of weirdo. "U-Uh no... Nothing's wrong..." A light blush crossed his face from embarrassment of getting caught.

Bemused, he smiled and nodded. "Alright." He continued on staring at the other customers.

Matthew observed him for a little longer before returning his gaze to at the laptop trying to work again. Unfortunately, it was useless as he realized nothing was flowing from his fingers like before. Scratching the side of his head as he scrolled through the chapter he had written. The chapter had a good amount typed, so he should be proud that he got something accomplished today. Yet he didn't feel like he fulfilled what he aimed to finish for today. He reached down for the other half of his breakfast sandwich before taking a bite then looked at the words in front of him. The violet eyes skimmed through the words as he continued to scroll through, his eyes flying over what he had written.

Only one chapter was written before today's work, but regardless, he wasn't happy with what was already there. Something was lacking. It wasn't what he envisioned and surely wasn't something he would say he was proud of as of now. His hand ran through his long golden locks as Matthew leaned back, stressed. There had to be something he could do to make it better, anything. If he couldn't continue, this would be the third story that he had to scrap and start anew this month, which was the last thing he wanted. Only a few made it past the first chapter and even less made it past the fifth. Overall, each story had a beginning, but rarely had an end.

Matthew was crestfallen staring at the machine in front of him. It was upsetting him more than usual that fewer stories survive to the end. Even if he lost interest or came to the realization that the story was going nowhere, he felt guilty... Guilty for starting something and not completing it. It gnawed at him, but even he knew that it wasn't going to work. And even if he were to show the draft to his editor, then he'll have proof that his novel can't be published.

It saddens him. He's always loved books. Long stories, short stories. Horror, romance, adventure, every genre stirred different emotions within him. Even if he wasn't interested, which was rare for him, he would read them to the last page- no matter how long it would drag. So, being a writer, being in the position of composing the story, its scenery, the plot, meant a lot to him. It bugs him that with each story he wrote, more failed then made it to the end.

"Ana... is everything okay?"

The sudden sound brought his disheartening gaze towards the man. Golden eyes stared back to huge violet ones. But the staring contest ended when Matthew blushing lightly. Shaking his head, his honey-colored hair swaying with each turn. "N-No everything is okay..." He put his hands up reassuringly, trying to convince the man. Though in his mind, he was just hoping he made sense through his fumbling.

The Asian watched, amused before putting a hand up to stop him. "If you say so... Your expression looked rather depressed. I don't mean to pry, but I would hate to leave you as you are...It wouldn't be right."

"It's nothing to bother you with..." Matthew muttered lowly, unsure of himself. It wasn't like he didn't want to tell him. If anything, he would love to talk to anyone about his stories. But this situation didn't seem like something many people would understand. Though a different point of view would help… His mind argued.

He hummed lightly as he played with his coffee cup. "It would be no bother to me. I've heard it's easier to talk to a stranger than someone you know sometimes... But if you are fine then there isn't any worries, yes?"

Matthew considered the statement. He's also heard of the idea of talking to a stranger was much easier than someone he would know personally. Although, he never considered putting it to the test because he never got the chance to. Well if I do freak him out at least I won't see him again. He thought before glancing at the Asian. "I'm a writer... but I've been having problems trying to finish a story. I guess I lose interest. And it annoys me that I can't finish a story." He continued, spilling out his thoughts to the man, who watched intently. The Canadian spoke, using his arms for emphasis and almost dropping his laptop a few times, giving him a heart attack. Nonetheless, he proceeded whilst the patient man listened to his ranting. "And it'll take me a while before I actually finish one and even then it's not exactly... great." He spoke dully as his shoulders slumped.

"I see..." A pause. "What's your name?"

He mentally face palmed himself when he realized that he just ranted his entire problem to a man that he didn't introduce himself to. "Sorry. I'm Matthew... Matthew Williams."

The Thai's gentle smile returned. "Ana... I see."

Before he could ask for his, a woman interrupted him.

"Tau." Standing before the Asian was a beautiful woman. Her long dark brown hair was tied in a low ponytail and exotic golden eyes that matched Tau's, were trained on the Asian. Her expression didn't look too happy as a frown appeared, her eyes narrowing. She spoke in a different language, her tone stern.

Matthew observed the two curiously, looking from a frowning woman to a smiling man named Tau. It was strange how much they contrast each other at that moment, Matthew noted. Tau had responded back to the woman in the similar language they shared as he stood. He paused momentarily, put his two hands together, and gaze her an apologetic look. "Ana… give me a second." She huffed before heading out of the room. He returned his gaze to the bewildered Canadian. "My name is Tau, Matthew." He looked over his shoulder briefly before smiling at the man. "Why don't we meet here again to continue our conversation, Matthew?"

Still unsure about what had happened, he nodded, "Sure."

Elated, he returned the nod. "Tomorrow, same time then, Matthew." With a wave, he followed the same path out as the lady.

Matthew watched before leaning back against the chair. …what just happened in the last ten minutes? He wondered as the previous events played in his head. It seemed unreal to him. He couldn't help, but smile. For once he was able to talk about his frustration without anyone talking back at him, disagreeing with him, or ignoring halfway. He happily sighed, glad get that off his chest. Staring at his laptop, he looked at his unfinished chapter… it did deflate him a bit. …I still need to finish this chapter…