Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia
Once upon a time, there was a little girl and her knight.
If only the girl wasn't such a boy, and the knight were less annoying.
"You're such an idiot, Gilbert," the girl said. "Stop pretending like you're stronger than me, because you're not."
The knight thought the girl was the most insufferable poopface he'd ever met. If only he knew how little boys like him expressed feelings of love. (Hint: it was by tackling the object of affection.)
Once upon a time there was a musician. If only he and the knight got along.
Once upon a time there were three teenagers, two boys and a girl.
If only the girl didn't have such an affinity for lovely music.
If only the dark-haired boy didn't make such lovely music.
If only the other boy was still a knight.
Elizaveta sat up straight in her desk, paying rapt attention to her most boring teacher. It was only polite, after all.
However, even if she paid close, close attention, she could never help getting distracted at some point or another. She had this weird, unhealthy relationship with her boyfriend, Roderich. It led to some inevitable ignoring of her friends, but Roderich was worth it. They were the king and queen of the school, the revered couple. The way the other students looked at them, arm and arm in the halls, was with an expression of resigned longing, as if the relationship of Elizaveta and Roderich was something they wanted to attain, but knew, with them ruling the halls, nearly impossible. To bring it back to whatever she should have been paying attention to, it was almost imperial.
Elizaveta would do anything for her Roderich, faults and all. She had to. After all, he was kind of a wimp, no matter how well he played the piano.
She looked to the back of the room with distaste. Gilbert Beilschmidt was drooling on his desk, one hand resting under his head, the other hidden, presumably curled around his crotch, perverted douchebag that he was.
Still, somehow he was in AP European History with Elizaveta and the other smart kids. The beginning of the year was the first time Elizaveta had seen Gilbert since middle school and, suffice it to say, she had been surprised to see him in one of her classes.
Her question was answered when the teacher asked of a sleeping Gilbert, "Who ruled over the Kingdom of Prussia from 1840 to 1886?" and Gilbert had awoken and promptly answered, "Frederick II, the most awesome guy in history. Excluding me, of course."
Despite the jackassery that had come with the answer, it was correct, so, even though Elizaveta was irritated half to death with him just being in the same room as her, she couldn't discredit his being in the class.
Now Gilbert looked up, blinked his red eyes, wiped his sleeve across his mouth, and gave Elizaveta a smirk and a wink. She rolled her eyes, not in a playful way, and turned back to the front.
They'd once played together, Gilbert and she. He was annoying even then. But at he didn't have his little entourage, Francis Bonnefoy and Antonio Fernandez Carriedo, with him back then, though she doubted the two would like being called an entourage.
"Hey, Eliza," he said to her when she was packing up her books to leave for lunch. "I saw you staring at me. So I'm guessing…you want a piece."
She glared at him. He was kind of fun back then, annoyingness and all, but Roderich hated him and, by extension, Elizaveta. He couldn't just get off home free for violating her boyfriend's personal space every day. "Go away."
"Fine, fine," he said lightly, holding his hands up as he backed away casually.
Elizaveta sighed. He was finally gone. What made it worse was that they lived close to each other, and his mother absolutely adored Elizaveta. Probably because she had such a screwup for a son.
Elizaveta pushed all thoughts of Gilbert out of her mind and went to the music room, where she and Roderich ate lunch everyday.
She certainly didn't expect to find her wonderful pianist boyfriend sitting at the piano bench, clutching his head, and Gilbert blowing into a flute.
"Make it stop!" Roderich cried.
"Gilbert! Stop!" Elizaveta shouted.
Thankfully, he did stop his incessant flute playing (if that's what you could call it), and turned to her. "You don't like my music?"
"That isn't music," Austria groaned.
Gilbert just laughed, the sound grating on Austria's ears as if it were a screechy violin.
Elizaveta began yelling something, but Gilbert didn't listen. Her long brown waves bounced, loose over her shoulders as she shouted. Her eyes were so green. So gorgeous…
They'd once played together, Elizaveta and he. She was demanding and degrading, but really, she'd only bothered him because she was stronger than him. God, he was so petty. He was petty and she was pretty.
But she hated him now. Admittedly, he wasn't the most pleasant person to be around. He purposefully antagonized people, slacked off in school, and, well, just wasn't the most attentive to other people's feelings. Roderich was none of those things. Much as Gilbert hated him, he was better for Elizaveta.
And that was what mattered.
Elizaveta, meanwhile, unaware of Gilbert's inner monologue, was shouting out words in an order that she hoped would convince him to leave. Once upon a time, he'd been an unwanted knight: unnecessary, but at least chivalrous. Kind of. But who needed a knight-turned-slacker when one could have Roderich?
Once upon a time, there was a little girl and her knight.
Once upon a time, there'd been a chance.
If only they hadn't aged.
A/N: Not entirely sure what this is. I just wanted to write some PruHun, and this happened. It doesn't have much of a plot, and they don't end up together. :,(
Anyway, review pretty please!
