Hey! Sorry it's been so long since I've updated this story! School has been pretty busy lately, and I apologize in advance! I'll try to be more active in updating, but I might be a little slow, so be patient! Anyways, here's the next chapter for you guys! Enjoy!
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters of Hetalia or Hetalia itself.
"Dude, Britain! You didn't have to be so harsh man!" America commented, glancing over at the Brit.
"Und now I have to go and comfort him. Thanks a lot Britain," Germany scowled, getting up to go after Prussia, his eyebrows knitted in a state of frustration.
"Ve~ I'll go with you Germany!" the Italian country hugged Germany from behind, his eyes still a little sleepy from his short nap.
"Si, you shouldn't have been so harsh amigo," said a certain Spanish man in the room.
"Shut up Spain! Wait- When did you get here?!" England snapped before realizing the other nation was there. "Ah never mind it," he shook his head, dismissing the presence of the tanned man. The English nation stared after the entrance, baffled at the situation. Now the countries were against him. He bit his lips, cursing at himself. All of the other nations looked at him expectantly, all except Germany who was on his way out the door, dragging along Italy who clung to his arm.
"Wait, Germany," the Brit interjected before the duo could make it any further to the door. "I'll go and apologize to him," he said, slowly making his way to the doors. The German glared at him, a distrustful gaze in his eyes, but he nodded anyways and moved away. With a deep breath, the Englishman opened the doors.
"Italy, get off my leg now!" Germany demanded in the background.
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The doors closed behind England as he paced through the corridors of the building. The man would check around every corner for the Prussian nation, but to no avail coil he find him. He sat down on a nearby bench out in the hallways and hung his head down low in defeat. The Brit sighed softly, gritting his teeth in frustration.
"Where could that bloody Prussia be…" he murmured, half-expecting the ex-nation to appear just then. When there were no signs of the albino coming, England covered his face in his hands as his stress level proceeded to soar up.
"Are jou looking for me?" an all too familiar voice rang in the blond's head. He looked up and was surprised to see the former Tectonic Knights leaning against the opposite wall, his head hung low as he looked at the ground. Prussia glanced up, his gleaming red eyes focused on the man who had insulted and humiliated him in front of the other nations as he crossed his arms. The man's eyes seemed to be a bit puffy, as if he had cried somewhere in the building.
"Oh, there you are Prussia. I was just looking for you…," England said with a gulp. Oh dear. How was he suppose to say this? "Listen…. I wanted to…," he pried for the right words, but something in his pride prevented him from saying it.
"Vhat? Vhat did jou vant?" Prussia said with impatience. His slender fingers tapped on his elbow, waiting for the other nation to answer.
England swallowed one last time before he decided that it was best to apologize now, or else he won't be able to later. "I-I…. wanted to say I'm sorry," he stuttered in a strained voice, gripping the collar of his shirt softly. Was it always this hard for him? "I-I didn't mean what I said back there. I am truly….sorry," the Brit glanced up, expecting to see the other nation glaring at him, but was taken aback.
Prussia was smiling. Smiling like his usual self as he let out a soft chuckle. What was so funny? "Don't vorry. I vasn't offended," the albino replied with a smirk. "...much," he added as soon as a small little yellow bird landed on his shoulder. "Isn't zhat right, Gilbird?" He asked, glancing over to his little companion. The bird gave a single tweet as it nodded in agreement.
The great British nation gapped in astonishment. "A-are you sure?" uncertainty filled his voice. Somehow he couldn't believe Prussia would be so… forgiving. The silver haired man nodded, snickering at the Brit's expression.
"Listen, if jou vant to make it up, buy me pancakes tomorrow!" he said in a somewhat teasing tone. "And something for Gilbird too!" the bird tweeted and flapped its little wings, happy that it might be getting something. The yellow creature flew over to the blond and perched lightly on the man's shoulder. It chirped a lovely melody as it swayed back and forth on Britain's military uniform.
"Gilbird! Come back jou little freak!" Gilbert scolded the small creature, but despite that, the bird continued to linger on the other nation's shoulder.
England was absolutely dumbfounded. The great former Tectonic Knight, the one who conquered almost all of Europe and was merciless, was forgiving him so easily. On the other hand, he didn't want to test the other's limits, so instead he smiled along. He had to admit, Prussia's enthusiasm was contagious.
"Of course. I shall get you some tomorrow, Prussia," Britain said as he stood up from his seat. He stood in front of the man and held out a hand, which Prussia took and shook vigorously.
"Don't forget! Kesesese~!" Prussia replied with a giant grin plastered on his face and pulled England in to pat him on the back. "Now, go back to zhe meeting before mein brüder comes and forces you!"
England let out a chuckle. "Very true. Well, farewell until then I guess?" He gestured a goodbye with a salute and started to head back to the meeting. The blonde couldn't help but continue to smile as the heavy guilt was lifted off of his chest. 'Until then.' He thought, his heart seeming to beat faster.
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Britain opened up the door and was not at all disappointed at what lay in front of him. In fact, it terrified him. A tall, 'chunky' Russian man was plopped on the ground, his eyes closed as if he was sleeping. He blocked most of the door, but the British man managed to barely slide through.
"You will become one with Russia, da?" the giant nation said with a snide look. It seemed like he was crushing someone underneath him as he jumped up and landed straight down.
"Sacre blue! How much do you weigh Russia!" The Frenchman exclaimed with an exasperated breath. Tears were practically streaming down the blond's face as he endured the back pain from the cold climate nation. "S'il vous plait! Please! I beg you! Please get off me!" France pleaded with an agonized look.
"Ha! Russia, dude! I think you're heavier than me!" America retorted as he sipped his cola drink. He pumped a fist up in the air, as if it was a victory that someone was heavier than the young blonde nation.
The American quickly regretted it as he felt an evil presence behind him. He gulped down his last sip of soda as fear quickly dawned in on him to who it was. "Dude….i was kidding…. Hahaha…. Get it?" Alfred said with a shaky smile, trying to lighten up the Russian's mood.
"I don't get it, da…" Russia said in a voice full of malice. England stealthily managed to sneak out the door as he sensed many bad things were going to happen to his former colony. He would help America out in any situations; there was no question about it. The only exception though, was against the light haired nation of Russia.