DISCLAIMER: Hidekaz Himaruya owns Hetalia, not me
Car Kiss:
Alfred F. Jones, the proud carrier of the title 'Class Clown,' flicked yet another pencil onto the ceiling as the teacher turned his back again. He smirked as it stuck, tip buried within the cheapy material. The teacher looked over his shoulder, seeing only a role-model student diligently taking notes. Until he faced the board again.
A boy with spiky blonde hair, bright blue eyes, and a goofy grin stifled his laughter, giving him a thumbs up. He smiled back, returning the gesture.
"So on the twenty-fifth of February, 1947, Prussia was dissolved…"
Bla bla bla bla… He thought to himself as the teacher droned on. World War Two crap, European politics crap, Axis and Allies crap… Does he ever stop to breathe?
As he looked around the room, he noticed that no one was taking notes anymore. Just doodling, note passing, and idly chatting.
Except for one.
Natalya Arlovskaya.
Ashy, straight platinum blonde hair, fair skin, and, her most striking feature, haunted purplish-blue eyes, shadowed and fierce.
She was beautiful.
She sat, composed and analytical, at her desk, wearing a dark gray fleece-knit sweater, dark-washed skinny jeans, and black and white Converse. Unlike the others, she faithfully took down every word the teacher said, never faltering. Her eyes never once looked up to meet his as he stared at her, desperately trying to drag his gaze away, but to no avail. She was just…. Perfect.
But no one else seemed to think so, for obvious reasons. She was…. Rather unsociable. Actually, very unsociable. She never said a word in class, never volunteered to answer a question unless the teacher asked her anyway, and never participated in sports or other extra-curricular activities. In group activities, she always did all the work, giving the others the answers, and never engaged in any kind of conversation outside of that. Rumors started to go around. Maybe she was abused at home. Maybe something was wrong with her mentally. He didn't believe a word of it.
Well, at least he tried not to. It was hard, trying to avoid wondering about her past and personal life. They had gone to the same school since sixth grade. They were seniors now. She never changed, never revealed anything. That bothered him.
And since he was twelve years old, he had had a crush on her. Not just a little school-year crush that flared up every now and then, but a painful, never-ending love that refused to leave, despite his efforts to shake it. It hurt to so fiercely love someone who didn't feel the same way. Who didn't seem to feel anything for anyone.
Time and time again he had come so close to working up the courage to actually tell her how he felt. Time and time again he failed. He had tried to start up simple conversations with her before, but none were successful. She just stared at him with those terrifyingly intelligent haunted eyes and responded with a 'yes,' 'no,' or a simple shrug.
Despite being a poster child student, excellent in school and in multiple honors classes, she had been suspended multiple times. Always for getting into fights. With guys. Every time.
It infuriated him. He wasn't the only one who thought she was beautiful. On all occasions, she had been defending herself against other boys, all with some perverted, dirty intention. None of the boys who tried ever pulled something like that again, on any girl.
In one of the more severe incidents, a guy had supposedly pinned her to the wall in between classes, when the rest of their class was at lunch. She left him with a broken arm, several shattered ribs, broken nose, and more than a couple places dislocated or fractured. Not to mention the scratches. The ultimate reason she had been suspended was because she had been carrying a knife, and well indeed used it.
What she didn't know was that Alfred took it upon himself to pay a visit to every one of those disgraces every time something like that happened, after they were back at school and healed. They never ratted on him. They didn't offer a word in defense as he pushed them behind the building and gave them a run for their money, never losing a fight.
His thoughts were interrupted as the bell rang. Everyone shot up, not bothering to listen to the rest of the teacher's lecture as they hurried out the room to their lockers. History marked the last class of the day for them, and they were all eager to leave. He quickly gathered his things as he spotted Natalya walk out as well, disappearing in the mass of high-schoolers.
He turned the knob of locker 508. Five… Fourty-five…Eight! He pushed up on the latch, growing aggravated when it didn't pop open. This stupid thing was always jamming.
From the edge of his vision, he saw Natalya whisk away, black and gray plaid backpack slung over one shoulder. Again, he urgently put in the combo, this time successfully opening it with a jiggle of the latch.
Throwing his stuff into his own light gray backpack, emblazoned with Captain America's shield and the word 'HERO,' he slammed the door shut and ran after her.
She didn't slow down or even look in his direction as he caught up with her, matching her stride. "Hey Nat! Goin' home?"
"Yes," she answered clearly, not glancing towards him as she continued towards the exit of the school.
"Cool! Mind if I walk you out?"
"It would seem I don't have a choice."
Unfazed, he continued this kind of chatter, always receiving the same kind of response.
Finally, they reached the parking lot, where Alfred walked up to his beat up old Mustang and she kept on walking. "Hey, wait!" He called after her, reaching out a hand to catch her shoulder.
She whipped around, eyes narrowed as she threw his arm off. "What?"
Eyes growing wide, he took a step back, unnerved. "I… I just thought you might want a ride home… It's kinda cold out here…" In all honesty, he didn't feel the cold at all in his red T-shirt, the words 'Dr. Pepper' scrawled across the center in white, and jeans. He just didn't want the time he spent with her to end.
Seeming to silently evaluate whether he was being serious or not, she fixed him in a penetrating lilac-indigo stare, never breaking contact. "…Just to my house?"
"Just to your house," he replied, nodding with a genuine smile of innocence and honesty.
She slowly seemed to decide it was alright and dipped her head. "Okay. Just to my house."
Trying to hide his excitement, he opened the door for her, trying to crack a joke. "Your limo, madame?"
She didn't appear to understand, which made him wilt a bit, but he quickly bounced back, hopping into the driver's seat as they pulled out and began their ride.
They were both silent at the beginning, until he finally piped up, "So… What elective classes are you taking?"
"Mostly art and graphic design classes," she replied. She had not lost her icy sense of unapproachable-ness since getting into his car. If anything, it had increased, the girl becoming even more distant.
"That's cool!" He laughed with a smile, trying to keep the mood light. "Do you enjoy it?"
"Yes."
"Are you good at it?"
"Yes."
"What do you do when you're not in school?"
"Bass guitar, reading, and drawing."
"You play guitar?!"
"Yes."
"What song do you play best on it?"
"For Whom the Bell Tolls."
"By Metallica?!"
"Yes."
"Dude, I love them! Can you play-"
"Look, can you just shut up?!" She suddenly snapped, eyes blazing as she glared at him.
Crestfallen, he looked away, jaw dropping. He knew this was all too good to be true.
For the second time, they drove in silence, no one saying a word. That is, until Natalya broke the quiet with three very unexpected words: "Alfred, I'm sorry."
Not making an effort to hide his surprise, he glanced at her again, shocked to see tears falling from her otherwise indifferent eyes. She tried to conceal them, turning away so she faced the window, but it was too late. He noticed.
"Nat? Nat, are you crying?"
"Shut up."
"Why are you crying? Did I say something? Seriously, what's wro-"
"Just shut up!" She cried, gazing back at him. "Please! C'mon, you're killing me!"
He said nothing, not knowing what words to respond with.
"Ugh, you just… You just have to make everything so difficult, don't you? You just have to screw everything up!" She continued, anger replacing teary-eyed sadness.
"What…?"
Rolling her eyes in exasperation, she sighed. "You really are ignorant, aren't you? You honestly haven't noticed?"
"Noticed what?!" He exclaimed, growing irritated. "Stop asking questions and just tell me!"
She looked hurt by his outburst, but quietly murmured, "That I love you."
Stunned and wordless, he didn't say a thing for a few moments. "…So how do I screw that up…?"
"You… You're just always there! Always with me! Always bugging me! It hurt not to tell you! And now look! You've ruined this too! Now you know, and…" She trailed off, holding back a strangled sob.
"Nat…"
"Shut up. I don't need your pity."
A small, warm light filled his bright, childish blue eyes as a smile spread across his lips. "I won't give you pity. Just this…" He leaned forward, snatching a soft, gentle kiss from her. She didn't protest. Lucky for them, he had pulled over after her revelation, not trusting his shaky hands to continue driving.
Catching her breath, she was left wanting more, but silent. He grinned at her expression, embracing her with all the passion he had ever felt for, letting it pour out in a single heartbeat of a moment. "I love you too."
