Just a quick little Romerica fanfic for all you fans of it out there. I doubt it'll be a long fanfic
Yes, I have been converted into a fan as well, but that doesn't mean I'm giving up Spamano.
I own nothing, all rights reserved. Hetalia and it's characters belong to Hidekaz Himaruya.
"Alfred F. Jones, you are looking absolutely hot tonight."
Alfred grinned happily his reflection in the mirror. For once, the tux his mother had bought him two years ago fit like a glove, unlike the years before where the sleeves covered most of his fingers. He adjusted the black tie around his neck, loosing it just enough so that he looked presentable, yet the tie wasn't choking him like a leash. He smoothed out a few wrinkles in the tux and groaned for the millionth time about having to wear it in the first place. If it were up to him, the Senior Prom wouldn't be a black tie event. It would be a big cook out and everyone would wear t-shirts and shorts and eats tons of junk food like chips and candy and-
"Alfred? Are you done yet? The longer you take, the longer your little girlfriend is going to have to wait for you!"
The blonde laughed, but still felt his cheeks heat up at his mother's words. He stuck his head out his bedroom and looked down at his mother from the stairs. "I'm almost done, Mom!" Quickly, he added. "And you know that Chiara's just a friend!"
And truly, she was just a friend. They've been friends ever since he first met her back in elementary school, when she first moved to America from Italy. He had noticed her one day on the playground just sitting by herself, mumbling quietly something in Italian (or had it been English? It used to be so hard to tell what language she was speaking since her accent was so thick). He left the friends he had been hanging out with earlier and headed over towards her. Once he was right in front of her, he had held out his hand and with the most heroic voice he could muster up, said to her:
"Hello there! I'm Alfred F. Jones, hero-in-training! What's your name?"
Since that day, the two were inseperable. They were always paired together for projects and field trips and always sat next to each other during lunch. They studied together, had sleepovers at each others' houses, they even aced the same exams. They laughed at the other's jokes, even if they weren't funny at all. They went on rescue missions for stolen purses in their neighborhood, defeated bullies, and went out on all sorts of adventures.
Towards the end of their final years in junior high, Alfred began to notice how much Chiara had really grown up. She no longer was that little girl with the cute, fly-away curl he had met back in elementary school. "She has matured into quite the beauty," His mother once told him when she left their house after a sleepover. "You're going to need to start fighting those men off of her soon."
The whole fighting men off thing actually became a real thing when Chiara started getting quite a few love notes in her locker. Alfred hated it when she got those notes and would rip them up everytime someone gave on to her. She didn't mind though, since she herself had stated she wasn't interested in any of the morons at their school.
Shaking himself from the nostalgic thoughts, Alfred started moving faster around his room, picking up his phone and punching his friend's number in for a text. When he was finished and he had sent the text, he pocketed his phone, opened the door, and exited his room.
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'What the hell have I gotten myself into?' A certain Italian female wondered to herself as she glared at her mirror.
In her mind, the mirror in her room was like one of those mirrors at a carnival, the ones were no matter how you look at them, you always look weird. She didn't like how the dark, wine red dress hugged her so tightly that she almost couldn't breathe or how it only really became a dress once the fabric hit her hips and flowed down to the ground. She especially hated how it was one of those spaghetti strap dresses that she had always cracked jokes about in the store. Now that she actually was wearing one, Chiara absoultely hated it. And yet, her mind kept reminding her of the reason she was wearing it in the first place.
For the first time in her whole time at high school, Chiara Lovina Vargas was going to prom with a guy: her best friend since fifth grade, Alfred F. Jones. When she had first transferred schools from her old one in Italy to her new school in America back in fifth grade, she couldn't speak English very well and everyone avoided her in favor of befriending her younger sister instead. But one kid, Alfred, had literally reached out to her and became her first friend.
Some time around their first year of high school though, something changed. When Chiara had spotted him in the halls after sumer break that first day, something about him was different. Sure, he now sported a brown leather bomber jacket and he was much taller than he was in junior high, but there was something else about her friend that just kept bugging her. Ever since then, her brain's been kept busy with thoughts sorely around him and him alone, and whenever they hung out with one another, she'd actually be extremely happy, more so than usual.
Maybe she was just imagining things, but she was still curious as to what really changed...
A loud ping sort of noise came from her phone, signalling that she had gotten a text. She snatched her phone up from the bed and looked down at the screen.
[Text From: Hero Boy
r u almost dun? pickin u up in a few]
She glanced back at her mirror and sighed to herself. "This is as good as it's going to get.." She said to herself as she started typing in her response.
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[Reply from: Pizza Girl
Did I mention I hate the way you text? I may be fluent in English now, but there's no way in hell that's English.]
Alfred chuckled at his friend's text as he walked into the kitchen to grab the set of keys to his car. His mother looked up from the book she was reading at the kitchen table and smiled slightly. "I thought you were never going to come down. I even made a bet with your father that you'd be late picking Chiara up. He bet ten minutes late, but I said you'd be twenty. Looks like I'm going to have to pay up."
"Not even my parents trust me anymore..." Alfred pouted childishly, quickly shaking it though, and pocketed his keys. With long and cheerful strides, he walked towards the front door. "I'm leaving now!" He called out to her. Just as he put his hand on the doorknob, he heard a voice cry out, "Wait!", and he froze in his tracks. The woman at the kitchen table placed the bookmark in the pages and walked swiftly over towards her son. Without a word, she hugged him and smiled at him.
"Have fun, love."
The blonde nodded and hugged her back. "Got it, Mom." He hugged her for just a bit more, letting her go after a while. He waved to her, opened the door, and walked out, still waving to his mom the whole time until he got in the car and drove off. All was quiet as the motor of the car became farther and father away from the house, Alfred's mother standing in the door way.
"They grow up so fast..."
The woman was startled by the sudden voice from behind her, more so at the arms around her waist. She relaxed a bit when she realized who it was. "Don't scare me like that, you git."
A low chuckle sounded from the voice. "My little Alice is sad...Should I show her Wonderland again?"
"Careful, Francis, or else it won't be your head that's getting cut off." Alice sighed as she felt her husband lay his head on her neck. "But you made a good point there...I can still remember the day I first held him and his brother in my arms. It was like time had paused the moment I saw them and..." She trailed off.
"And then you pressed the play button?"
"And then I pressed the play button..."
Francis pecked his wife's cheek affectionately. "They can't stay children forever, you know. If we don't let them grow up, then we're the ones who are really children, not them."
"I know, I know." Alice adjusted the glasses on her face and squirmed out of her husband's grip. "I'm going to make myself some tea and read now. Want some?"
"I'd love some, my dear Alice."
"Oh, and Francis? One more thing." A small smirk crossed her face. "Enough with the pet names, will you? It's getting old and annoying."
"It's not the only thing in this house that's getting old and annoying..."
"What was that?"
"N-nothing, dear!"
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Ding-dong!
"Hm? I wonder who that could be..." Feliciana looked up from the TV and ran to answer the door. When she opened it, she smiled at the American in the doorway. "Hi, Alfred! Mi sorella's still in her room. Should I tell her you're here or...?"
"Can you go get her? I may be her friend, but she still doesn't let me in her room." Alfred said with a sheepish smile. "I suppose I could swoop in and rescue her like a true hero would from that terrible mirror she's always complaining about!
Suddenly, a loud, rather irritated voice called from the top of the stairs. "No need! I'm coming, I'm coming!"
The two looked up to the top of the stairs towards the Italian at the top of the stairs. Alfred's eyes widened drastically in awe at his friend, a bit of blush dusting his cheeks. She looked absolutely gorgeous, her beautiful red dress showing off her curves as well as complimenting the red hairband she wore in her curly, chocolate brown hair. Her legs seemed to disappear under the dress's flowing fabric, appearing only for a second as she walked down the stairs.
Alfred couldn't tear his eyes away from her the whole time. He knew that Chiara had some 'potential beauty' as he put it once, what with her naturally olive coloured skin and sly, almost cat-like, honey drop eyes (both due to her Italian heritage). Sure, he had seen all the love notes claiming how pretty she was, and sure, he had to admit Chiara had her cute moments. But he hadn't really ever thought of her as being drop dead stunning like she was right now. She was always so rugged and tough compared to her sister, playing in the mud and rain all the time, so he never actually paid that much attention to her true physical beauty.
Oh how wrong he had been to say she had 'potential beauty'. At that very moment, she was the most beautiful person he had ever seen in his life.
When she finally reached the bottom step, she groaned slightly and waved a hand in front of her friend's face, noticing that he was in some sort of trance. "Oi, Batman, Cat Woman caught your tongue or something?"
"H-huh?" The sudden hand in front of his face made him jump, but he regained his composure quickly. "Oh, uh...Nope! I was just stunned to see you in dress for once! A-ahhahahahah! Yup! That's it- Oof!"
Chiara drew her hand away from where it was previously embedded in Alfred's stomach. She turned towards Feliciana in the meantime. "I won't be home until late, so you have to get yourself to bed before midnight, va bene? I don't want to come home to you passed out on the couch waiting for me like when I went out to buy groceries on New Year's two years ago. If you're tired, go to bed."
"I know, Chi-chi~! Sheesh! You make it seem like I'm a five year old. I'm sixteen now, I can take care of myself!"
"Also, no inviting over that potato bastard."
"Wh-what?"
Chiara gave her sister the 'I meant what I said, damn it' look, which meant it was time for Feliciana to stop arguing. "I don't trust you and that bastard alone. Not after the last time I came home and you two were eating each other's faces." She shivered with disgust. "If you're hungry, fix yourself some pasta. If you're bored, watch TV. Simple as that. No inviting anyone over."
"V-veh...understood..."
Alfred chuckled at the two's conversation, if you were willing to call it that. "I think she get's it, Chi. Let's go already though. If we don't hurry, Mattie's gonna start wondering where we are and you know how much of a worrier he is."
"Right." Chiara turned and headed for the door. "We're leaving now, Feli. Don't answer the door and-"
"Just go already, sorella! Stop being such a worrier! I'll be fine~!"
Without another word, Alfred grabbed Chiara by the arm and pulled her out the door. "Byeee~!"
"Ciao~! Have fun, you two!"
...
Something tells me I'm going to need more than just two chapters...
Oh well.
R&R if you liked it.
