ORIGINAL A/N: (Update: See the bottom)
YES
I PLAN TO CONTINUE
I have nothing much to say. I wrote this a good month or two ago, but refused to put it up because I wanted to write more.
But I decided this was good enough for now.
So I edited this very very quickly late last night right before I went to sleep and decided to throw it up after a week of procrastinating.
Enjoy this short chapter. Sorry it's lack luster. I hope it's okay.
I'll start writing again after vacation.
"Calm down." She said over and over. Natalia had nothing to be afraid of. In fact, she was the thing to be afraid of in the minds of all the party guests. She'd be fine. There was nothing to be afraid of. There was nothing to be afraid of.
"Yosh! Ready to go?" There was everything to be afraid of.
Her fingertips trembled violently. The shaking worsened when the gleeful American grabbed her hand. The plan had better work, else Natalia would just drop dead wherever she stood.
He swung their hands back and forth as if they were a true couple. Shouting a final "See ya later, Tony!", he led his pretend girlfriend out the door. This would be the best day ever, whether that dumb giant Ivan knocks him out or not. It also helped him to realize how powerful he was now. These two Soviet siblings were the meanest and scariest of all nations he encountered. Tonight, he'd be making them both mad. This feeling of control made Alfred all the more excited.
Grinding her teeth, Natalia spoke. "Need we act in public?" Still shaking, her hands had a powerful grip that almost hurt. "No person to fool is around."
"You don't know that." Alfred carefully observed the dreary British streets, looking for any familiar faces at all. "We're not the only people going, y'know." Natalia sighed. Why couldn't this idiot put as much thought into politics as he did with schemes against Ivan?
By the time they reached Arthur's doorstep, Natalia had finally and thankfully managed to completely tune out the feeling of Alfred's hand. It was as if he was not in physical contact with her, nor even next to her. It almost shocked her to remember his prescence when she saw him reach for the doorbell. All she was going to do was ring it once. All Alfred did was ring it innumerable times. To the rhythm of the national anthem. The -American- national anthem.
She took a deep breath when she saw Arthur walk past the front window, silently praying that the Briton wouldn't kill Alfred before they even got inside.
The ornate manor door (he WAS a nation afterall; he wasn't going to live in some run-down single-story home) was pulled open with great force and ire. Whoever could be at the door? Arthur was surprised to see Natalia, as she was more polite than to deafen him and guests as such. "Oh. Do...come right i-?" A gasp escape from his mouth and cut off the confused welcome. "Alfred!" His alarmed scream was strange. It was not scornful, but panicky.
Alfred waved a free hand. "Whassup, Iggy?" He smiled.
But the nickname Arthur hated so —earned from Japan catching his linguistic slip up of "Igirisu" at just the wrong time— had not even phased him. "Huh?" He stared up at Alfred. "What...?" He looked back briefly. "How did you-!" Alfred, though almost equally confused, laughed. "I thought you were already here!" Arthur finally got out.
The laughter ceased. "Huh? What do you mean?" Alfred asked curiously, assuming he'd know if he had been there already. Maybe some nation was such a huge fan he dressed up as him? Why, how flattering!
"See! Look, there you ar-...oh..." The birthday boy pointed behind him at the Alfred in the back of the hall. Other-Alfred shrunk back into the corner, hugging a little white bear tightly. "Terribly sorry, Matthew."
As Arthur turned his back, Alfred walked in without welcome. Arthur realised this, but didn't bother to stop him. This happened every year. He just couldn't be bothered anymore. But something did bother him. As he watched the American walked into the next room, he saw the Belorussian follow oddly close behind. Arthur couldn't help but notice their locked hands. He was stunned. Why would such a girl ever be with a git like Alfred?
He shook his head. No, there was another explanation.
A/N: Update:Hey guys. It's me.
I'm sorry. I've been in your places many times before, and I know this is frustrating, and I know what you're thinking.
I wanna say sorry. This fic has been dead, and its future is a bleak one.
I'm kind of afraid to keep writing, and I've really lost my will to continue this story. I don't feel like a hardcore Hetalia fan anymore. Actually, I'm starting to reject the idea and turn my back on the fanbase, especially in the recent days.
And to be honest, I never knew where this fic was going. I had the beginning planned out, and the rest was just "Let's see how this goes" and a few planned jokes that have been ultimately scrapped.
I had the plan for Chapter 3 written out probably before I posted this up. So there may be a chapter three.
I don't want to let this fic die, and I wanna finish it at the very least, but I can't make any promises anymore. Okay?
Can you guys make me a promise though?
Can we all be good Hetalia fans? Think about your actions. You do represent the fanbase as a whole, and one bad apple spoils the entire bunch. We don't have good PR, and for very very understandable reasons. But we can at least show the rest of the Otaku subculture that we're not all that bad.
I'm sorry for the author filibuster, but I wanted to say...
Thanks a lot to everyone who read, enjoyed, and supported this fic. Really, just thanks.
For you guys, I'm gonna try to continue. But again, I can't guarantee I'll make good on my word, nor the quality of any future chapters.
Just don't hold your breath.
