My Oh My!
Chapter Two


His eyes were wide and nervous. Shallow breaths came out in short gasps; inhale and exhale, inhale and exhale… But it was too hard.

(It shouldn't have been that hard.)

The air was unclean. It smelt of rotten flesh and burnt skin, scarred and seared with ugly red welts.

He choked. Breathed in that putrid smell.

His surroundings were dark, ominously so. The windows were nailed shut with wooden boards. Moonlight filtered through the cracks and gaps in harsh lines; it sliced across the dust-caked floor, illuminating odd, disfigured shapes – huddled into themselves, sprawled on the ground.

People…?

He gulped, averting his gaze. It was foolish to worry about such things. Foolish to worry about the bodies. They were the least of his worries. Especially whilst they weren't moving.

His steady footfalls contrasted with the wildly erratic beat of her heart – the pounding of blood in his head – the white spots dancing in front of his vision and the bile rising in his throat.

He felt sick. Sick to the stomach. To the very core of his being.

But he had to keep going, he had to keep going.

Get it together. Get it together. Get it together.

Creak.

He paused, hairs rising at the back of her neck. His hands shook. Eyes widened further, pupils tiny pin-pricks in a sea of milky white.

Slowly, slowly, he turned about-

-

And a terrible scream split the air.


"…Shit," swore Elizaverta, once more displaying her elegant, ladylike personality. "I lost. That really sucks. I was totally ready for that monster, too! I had my gun out and everything." She yawned,, stretching; arms raised, knuckles clenched. Her spine popped, sliding back into place – and, urgh, that sounded painful.

Not that Arthur cared.

He stared at the flickering TV screen dully, green eyes narrowed. The words 'GAME OVER' were splashed across an image of Elizabeth's character being mauled by zombies.

Yes. She had been playing a zombie game. A zombie game with a truly lacklustre storyline, flat characters and lame sound effects. Overall, Arthur would have given it -2 out of 10 – and he was being lenient.

Maybe his judgement was being clouded, however, by his bad mood.

…Either way, Arthur had never liked video games. He found them completely pointless; especially when there were more important things to do, like studying.

Studying was good.

Had he not missed his bus due to his 'appointment' with Ivan, he could have been at home now, studying. Instead, he had (unwillingly) gone home with Elizaverta, and was waiting there until a later bus arrived.

But that didn't mean he had to enjoy himself. Or appreciate Elizaverta's hospitality.

It was her fault he had missed his bus to begin with.

"Do you want a go, Arthur?" asked Elizaverta, gesturing towards the TV.

"No."

"Awwww~" she began to giggle. Walking over towards Arthur, who was perched primly on the edge of her bed with a haughty look on his face, she began to prod at his cheeks. Arthur batted her hands away. And she began again, undeterred.

"C-cut that out!" Arthur cried, balking at the unwanted contact.

Elizaverta ignored him.

In a moment of weakness, Arthur's gentlemanly façade slipped. Deftly, he grabbed a pillow, and chucked full-force at his 'friend's' (and he used the term loosely. Very, verryyy loosely) undeniably pretty face.

-

She caught it perfectly.

Bugger!

Foiled again.

"Artie, stop acting like such a bitch."

Arthur's face flushed.

"I'm not," he retorted childishly, folding his arms. "You're the whiney one, not me."

"On the contrary! You're," she prodded Arthur's nose, "the one who's succhhh a negative, pessimistic bitch about everything that he has to see a counsellor! Not me! Hahahahaha!" She was so happy, she seemed to be sparkling. Arthur stared her down, eyes narrowed.

"Yes. I saw the counsellor." Arthur inhaled. His left eye began to twitch sporadically. "And who's bloody fault is that?!"

"Don't get mad at me! I was trying to help you!"

"I don't need help! You're the one who needs help! You're the one who likes this stuff!" Arthur broke off. Pushing himself off Elizaverta's bed (which was red, white, and green; the colours of the Hungarian flag, respectively), he shoved his fingers in the small gap underneath the bed and floor. He did so with impossibly fast movements; mad pirate ninja skillz that would leave a professional thief green with jealously.

Elizaverta had literally no time to stop him.

With a cry of 'aha!' Arthur extracted his fingers, gasping a stack of doujinshi and manga in ond hand. They had similar titles, all of which included the words 'love' or 'hot' or 'naughty', and very similar covers. Two boys, no clothes, and a multitude of poses.

Arthur flushed at the more graphic ones.

W-was that even physically possible?

And people enjoyed it???

Suddenly, his curious eyes snagged on something disturbing.

"Is that Feliciano and Ludwig???" he asked, stabbing one finger at a doujinshi cover. It sported two eerily familiar people, in such a suggestive pose it made Arthur's skin crawl. "Did you make this?!"

Elizaverta fumed.

"H-hey, what about this one?! Is this meant to be you? And our math tea-"

But Arthur never managed to finish. A sharp burst of pain split through his skull; a galaxy of stars exploded before his eyes; white spots drunkenly swarmed his vision. He felt sick.

Was this what dying felt like?

Jesus Christ on a crumpet, that hurt!!!

"They're collector's items!!!" yelled Elizaverta, wielding a… frying pan? Where did that come from? "You can't touch them! I won't allow it!"

Arthur felt his

"But you know…" said Elizaverta, voice no longer manic and insane. In fact, she seemed to be smiling – though Arthur could barely see through his pain and misery. "I really did want to help you, Arthur. You've seemed different lately. Like, kind of sad?"

"…Sad? I'm not…"

"You are. You've been all mopey and borrrinnggg for ages. So I thought, it might be good if you could spoke to somebody about how you feel!"

Talk to Ivan about how I feel?

Yeah, right.

Perhaps hell would care to freeze over first.

A demented smile crossed Elizaverta's lips; one that instantly made Arthur feel uneasy. He wondered if he should grab another pillow, just to be safe.

"And I think you're sad because you've never had a girlfriend!!!"

And of course, Arthur's cheeks (immediately) began to blister and burn cherry-tomato red.

"I… I'm not… N-not…" Arthur tried to glower – which wasn't exactly impressive, considering he looked (and felt) like a lovelorn girl. "Don't make up stuff that isn't true! I'm perfectly fine! I don't commission Francis to draw my erotic fantasies- s-stop laughing!!! I'm being serious!"

To begin with, Elizaverta had been snorting to herself, trying to muffle the noise politely. At the end of Arthur's tirade, however, she was clutching her middle, cheeks as flushed as Arthur's, laughing like a hyena. In books, weren't women meant to laugh like wind chimes and bells?

"W-what? I wasn't being funny," said Arthur huffily.

"I know! But there's something incredibly hilarious about you – you, of all people! – saying 'erotic fantasies' so seriously, in that British accent!"

"Get screwed, Elizaverta! I hate you!"


a.n: ahahahaha exams suck.
I hate studying -_- I'm no good at it, and I get bored, and my grades don't improve even when I do it!!! i'm all halp plzz D:
Um, yeaa. I'm an awful, awful person. i'm sorry for taking so long.
there is no excuse.
Enjoy the sparkly new chapter?

Review? (*´∀`*)

Ohhh, & thinking of writing something incredibly bizarre w/ liechtenstein and canada going on a great adventure. and england is some kind of omega epic fairy… xDDDD yeaa. and ukraine is in there somewhere too. anyone interested? xDD i have /weird/ ideas. mmmmyup.