A/N: I love Belarus and just felt like writing a little one shot with her and America. 3 I'm writing this on my bed in full Belarus cosplay after coming back from Cardiff comic con. I was high-fived by an awesome Hungary cosplayer which was nice! ^^ as usual I don't own hetalia or its characters.
"Since no one understands the meaning of 'respect' here, I suggest this meeting be brought to halt. You may now leave."
The world meeting had finished the same way it began; with Germany lecturing and playing the straight man to a room of hyperactive, whack jobs that also happened to be the entire world.
Belarus sighed. Why did they have to be so abnormal? And was it too much to ask for them to behave like regular people for just one world meeting? Somewhere, a voice inside her was saying that she was being slightly unreasonable chasing her brother around the entire time, but she brushed it off. Big brother and her were meant to be together anyway, so no one would mind.
As she pulled herself up and straightened her now crinkled dress she became aware of just how relaxed she had made herself in her seat. Her shoes had been kicked off onto the floor below her and she'd slumped so far down into the chair's leather bottom, she may as well have been lying down.
She was beginning to turn into that Amierykanski idiot, who did nothing but announce himself the hero every two minutes while the others argued. And the junk food- it was like hamburgers went in and impossibly stupid ideas spewed out. Still, she admired him for being a courageous nation that was almost deserving of being called a hero. She snorted at the ridiculous notion and the mental image of the American shoving burgers down his throat, and rushed towards the door to a rather frightened looking Russia.
What on earth could give big brother such a scared look on his face?
She thought, before joining him.
Only Britain and America were left in the comparatively quiet room, continuing there debate on the economy.
"Dude! I said don't worry about it; all I have to do is print more money!"
The exhausted Brit took one final look at the oblivious idiot (that he just happened to raise) before lobbing a shoe in his face. Before the younger nation could even say 'butt monkeys', Britain had stormed out the door, muttering some puns about dogs and tricks under his breath as he did so. America pulled a hand through his hair in exhaustion and confusion. He didn't think he'd said anything wrong; he had it all planned out, he wouldn't have to rely on anyone this time. But still, he got a shoe to the face. A rather small, delicate black shoe. Actually, that shoe looked suspiciously feminine; who could it belong to?
The American racked his brains for a moment, bringing to mind a mental image of the female countries. Seychelles? No, that girl probably didn't know what shoes were, let alone posses a pair of neat, sensible slacks. Hungary? It didn't seem to far a cry to assume the item could be hers, but she was definitely not the type to leave personal items lying around.
The wooden doors to the conference room were pushed ajar slightly, making the quietest of creaks as a blonde haired girl peered through at America. Looking up, he realised he was kneeling right in front of her. Suddenly a little embarrassed by their proximity, he shuffled awkwardly where he sat. The Belarusian was extremely beautiful, and America felt a fool for not noticing before; platinum hair that cascaded neatly to her waist, and a slender figure that would have been desired by any girl who so much as set eyes on her. He'd always been put off by her overly-possessive demeanour and unhealthy obsession with a man he thought to be the single most terrifying person in the universe, but now he felt like he was looking at her for the first time. And he liked what he saw.
Belarus appeared slightly off balance as she stood in the doorframe. Her skirt fell short of her ankle, allowing the male country to see her delicate feet. One stocking covered foot was clad in a neat black shoe, while the other hovered dangerously close to the floor, unsteadily held out in front of her.
"My shoe?"
It was a little hard to tell from his position on the floor below her, but America thought he saw a light blush tint her usually pale cheeks.
He took her foot gently in his masculine hand and brought the show towards it. He chuckled lightly as he caught a glimpse of Belarus's flustered expression and heard a gasp escape her lips. Still, the usually cold-hearted woman didn't move a muscle from where she stood, leaning against the door frame. America took that as a good sign and continued with his adornment of her slight foot.
Their eyes met for what seemed like much much longer than a second, before America gave her a smile that mixed both confidence and mystery.
"There you go, Cinderella."
If her heart wasn't pounding enough already, she became even more confused and flustered at his tender address of her. He rose to her level, and then higher until he reached his full height, whilst the inexperienced girl still couldn't seem to articulate. She wanted to push him away, to glare at him and reject him completely, but for some reason her body just wasn't listening.
She felt as though she had to do something or the moment would slip away, she didn't want it to end. He could never be like her brother. He couldn't smile the same way, or laugh or cry like her brother did, but she didn't care. In fact, she liked that about him. Hell, she even preferred it!
She... couldn't let him slip away.
On tippy toes, she brought her face near to his, grasping his bomber jacket with both hands, stopping just short of his mouth.
"Cinderella always gets the prince in the end."
The American man grinned, before closing the distance between them for good.
"I know."
Translations (Belarusian)
Amierykanski- American
What do you guys think? This is my first one shot and I hope to do a couple more if this one is well received. ^^ I've got USUK and a spamano one shots planned that I'll do after updating my story 80 days.
See you round~!