Update Time! I know it's kinda boring so far, but it gets much more interesting in chapter 3, I promise. For the meantime, enjoy the slightly-cracky family time!
Disclaimer:I do not own Hetalia or any of the characters. I'm not being paid by anyone to write. I only own the ideas, story, and diction. If I owned Hetalia, I would give Korea an offical certificate of ownship of all other countries breasts.
2: England's Perspective
England was not a happy camper by any means. Why on Earth did Alfred always insist on celebrating his half-birthday? Wasn't one reminder of his independence a year enough?! Arthur sighed deeply; he needed a drink. Now.
He shuffled into the kitchen and opened the wine cupboard and stared at all the different French names upon the bottles gifted to him over the years by his older brother. No, he would stick to tea for now. The party would be that evening and at least for Matthew's sake, he would stay sober; if France and America were to get drunk, Canada would need protection.
As Arthur took a seat at his little tea table by the window, waiting for the kettle to whistle, he pondered something. Why the bloody hell had Alfred been so persistent that the gathering take place at his English cottage?
He glanced outside at the frozen lake and slowly melting snowy garden through the fogged up window. Even with the bright sun, it was much warmer at Alfred's place right now; why not just go over there? Was this to fulfill a kink of Francis' about the half-birthday boys having a threesome in England's bed? He made a note to lock his bedroom door before any of them arrived.
A couple of hours later…
"Bloody hell, Francis! Are you trying to kick me out of my own home?! And why do you need pasta from Italy anyhow, can you not just make some yourself?!" Arthur struggled as the French man merely lifted him over his shoulder and carried him out to the car.
"No, L'Angleterre, in all other cases my cuisine rules over anyone else's, but I will admit Italy is the king of pasta. Now get going, and don't be back until at least six tonight, Ma Cherie!" France pushed England into the driver's seat.
Arthur saw no use arguing, "Just don't burn down my house, okay? You Bloody Wanker!" He saw Francis wink at him as he put on his seatbelt, closed the car-door and grumbling, pulled out of the driveway.
End of Chapter 2! Yay! Thank you very much for reading this! Reviews are much loved! I know this chapter is short, so the next update should come within a couple hours.