Well, here's the third chapter! I am extremely appreciative you guys who chose to review/favorite/follow this story. So I hope you enjoy it.
Please review! I really want to know what you guys think.
Disclaimer: Still don't own Hetalia :(
Why couldn't they just cancel the anger management meeting? Rescheduling it to a Friday no less, would only piss more kids off. In what world is it wise to anger teens who take anger management? Lose your temper once, shout a couple of profanities, and break one chair on a kid's head and you have to go to an anger management club? This entire thing is bullshit! Sure the kid had a minor concussion, but he didn't deserve to be here anyway. Seriously, who gets a scholarship for playing the triangle? If you asked me, I saved him later torment from even harsher students. You're welcome, Peter. 'I'm from Sealand' it's not a fucking country you fucking moron! I guess the fact that it was a metal chair, does earn me one meeting, but what does sitting a classroom for an hour do but piss me off? Two months minimum? That bitch must be crazy if she thinks I'm going to stay in this fucking club for two months.
"Salut, je peux asseyez ici?" An angelic voice asked. Great! I was this close to forgetting about that soccer player.
"I don't care." Arthur said, ignoring the French man and opened his book. Really? French. Who are you trying to impress? Not me, because it clearly isn't working. No matter how sexy it sounds. Francis frowned and took his seat.
"Did you notice how many goals I scored yesterday?" he asked politely. Yes, twelve. Twelve fucking awesome goals, each more awesome than the last. Why in the world would you score twelve goals?! It is soccer not fucking basketball! Who do you think you are? David Beckham? Because you aren't! He's nowhere near as sexy as you are! So shut up!
"Was there a soccer game yesterday?" I asked furrowed his eyebrows.
"Mais, mon cher, you were there."
"Was I?"
"I talked to you during the break."
"Did you?"
"Remember, I was with Bella." Bella? Couldn't resist bringing up your cheerleading whore, I see. Why you didn't bring her here today if you wanted to throw her in my face! Why the hell should I care! I wasn't even there. Go hang out with your slut Francis. No one would miss you if you left, especially me. And take your beautifully blond hair and dream boat eyes with you! No one needs them.
"Bella? Doesn't ring a bell."
"Oh, it doesn't matter anyway. That was one of my worse games." Are you fucking kidding me? Are you fucking Hercules? Who scores twelve incredibly lame goals in less than an hour and then complains?! You are so fucking humble it's adorable! Stop it! I demand you stop it!
"Yea, I could tell," I answered nonchalantly.
"But, mon chouchou, you said you weren't there." Dammit. I wasn't there! How dare you catch me in my lie!? Not only that but you had to use your fucking French, sounding sexy as hell! 'You said you weren't there'? Don't fucking quote me! Who gave you the right to reuse my words? Of course I was there, you fucking talked to me, you French bastard! Don't act all innocent like, we all know what you're thinking! 'Now I've caught ze the English boy in his stupid little lie, honhonhon! Now he has to admit to how awesome, handsome, sexy, athletic, talented, funny, and romantic he really thinks I am!' Well newsflash, you're not fucking awesome, maybe everything else, but not awesome! Keep calm Arthur; you can't stay in here for more than two months. You will fucking kill everyone! Relax! Oh god, he's looking at me! Why the fuck is he looking at me? Doesn't he know how distracting those eyes are? Stop it Frog! Say something Arthur!
"Oh, you mean that soccer game. The one that was yesterday?" Francis looked at him incredulously.
"Yes, that game. You watched it?"
"No." Francis raised an eyebrow at him and Arthur felt a shiver course through his body. Goddammit! How can he do that!? Why can he do that? He shouldn't have that kind of power over me! I refuse it! Take that you bastard! I will not succumb to you fucking French sex tricks! I am much too powerful for that, you glorified Frog!
"You're confusing me, you didn't see the game?" Of course I'm confusing you, I'm confusing myself! You're damn eyes are making me lose focus. Why would I admit to seeing the game now? Hmm? I'm already this far in my lie, God himself could come down and tell you that I was at that game and I would deny it.
"I meant I could tell that the game wasn't your best because you came in looking a bit down." Good, nice save.
"Oh, that odd. I was feeling quite happy today, I get to see you again." How dare he?! Not only does he ruin my save, but then he turns it into a compliment? That fucking asshole! Who does he think he is being all kind and sympathetic!? I don't want you to be nice to me! You don't deserve it! Come on Arthur, really let him have it! Give that frog bastard what for! Him and his golden locks from heaven!
"I guess." Ooooo, burn. Point Arthur! Francis looked at him as though he was about to say something but Mr. Vargas interrupted.
"Ok little ones, today we are going to work on trust. Everyone is going to need a partner."
"I call Lovino!" announced Antonio.
"You better stay away from me you tomato bastard!"
"Oh, come on Lovi. Can't we move past this hate part of our relationship and just have the love?"
"I swear to fucking god, if you come near me, I will stab you with your own tomatoes!" Stab with tomatoes? Was this guy just saying the first thing that came to his mind?
"Lovino stop screaming or I will make you be partners will Gilbert!" warned Mr. Vargas.
"Never! I would never work with that potato bastard!"
"Yea, he's nowhere near awesome enough to be my partner," commented Gilbert.
"I am so awesome. Way too awesome for you!"
"You are pretty incredible," concurred Antonio.
"Stay away from me, I have the tomatoes ready." Francis looked at Arthur.
"We're partners," he declared. Who the fuck does he think he is? What if I don't want to be his partner? Even if I did, I wouldn't let him decide that for me! You know what I should do? I should go along with it just to spite him. Let him know what being my partner really entails. That's right; he's my partner, not the other way around. I claim him as my own! His French ass is mine! Not in that way, even though I'm sure his ass is as perfectly toned as the rest of him. Not that I've been staring, I would never give him the satisfaction! But man, does he work out! Get a life you prick!
"Sure," replied Arthur.
"Oh, I wasn't asking." That French bastard! What the hell does he mean he wasn't asking? Who the fuck made him king of partner choosing? Last time I checked, France wasn't the one with the king, England was! So that makes me king! King of everything! You hear that Francis! You have nothing.
"Ok people, this is a trust exercise. One of you will stand in front and the other in back and then the person in front will fall into the other's arms. Please do not drop anyone," he added glaring at Lovino, who was polite enough to scowl back. Once everyone was in place, the exercise was set to begin.
"Fall into my arms, my little tomato," smiled Antonio excitedly.
"No! Get away from me!"
"But mi amor, you cannot catch yourself."
"That would be better than letting you touch me! Move! I'll do it myself!"
"I don't want you to get hurt."
"I said move out of my fucking way! I can take care of myself! I don't need help from a tomato bastard." Lovino turned around and crossed his arms as he began to fall. Antonio ran up behind him and caught him before he landed on the cold concrete floor. "Dammit Antonio! Thank you for fucking catching me, you Spanish bastard! Is that what you wanted to hear? Thank you, you mother fucker! You always know what to fucking do! It is really annoying and you should stop it! I don't know who you think you are, but it doesn't matter anyway because you suck and you smell and I hate you!" Antonio laughed and kissed Lovino lightly on the forehead while he still had him in his arms. Lovino jumped up and started throwing some pocketed tomatoes at the Spainard. Pocketed tomatoes? Where the hell does this kid get tomatoes that can fit in his pocket? He probably has a magical portal that leads him to an everlasting supply of tomatoes from there! That's how he keeps Antonio around, that bastard loves those things and he can't really love that angry jerk, can he? Note to self: Steal Lovino's tomato portal.
"Lovino! Antonio! Stop it!" yelled Mr. Vargas. "The exercise is over for you two, go sit down!"
"Fuck you uncle! I don't even need this stupid class!" grumbled Lovino as he headed back to his chair next to Antonio.
"I believe it is our turn now," Francis whispered in Arthur's ear.
"Bloody hell!" he jumped. "It is not necessary for you to stand that close to me!"
"Oh? I'm sorry. I just like being close to you," he replied innocently, as if he was pouting. Teenage boys should never be able to look that attractive, it isn't fair! I bet if I tried pouting like that this French bastard would think I was having a seizure! But there he is, looking like an angel, with his flowing hair, heart melting eyes and god-like form! How dare he be so good looking! I swear if he says one more thing, I'm going to kiss him! I'll do it! Right here in front of everyone! "Do you wish to fall into my arms?" smiled the French teen. Oh god! Why is this happening to me?
"Ok." Arthur turned around and crossed his arms. Please let him catch me, he whispered to himself as he let his body fall. At first he felt the force of another body catch him but then it gave way and he was falling again. He felt his own body land on something. "My god, you bloody wanker! All you had to do was catch me!" he began. He turned himself until he was looking down at Francis under him. The French boy was smiling up at him. What the hell is he smiling at? Didn't he feel the fall? We are on the fucking ground for Pete's sake!
"Why do you look so happy?"
"Do you have a pickle in your pocket or are you just happy to see me?" What the bloody hell is he talking about? I hate pickles! They are obviously just rotten cucumbers! Well, except on a good sandwich, hey it's better than sauerkraut. Well, that's not true. This kid is unbelievable, now I'm hungry. He should take me to lunch for making me this hungry on purpose. I wonder if he eats lunch? He doesn't look like he does. Damn, his body is even more perfect up close…His eyes wondered down Francis' anatomy until they landed on his own body. He jumped up.
"Oh god! That- that's an accident."
"I don't know, it seemed pretty firm."
"Shut up!"
"Aw, mon cher, there's no need to be ashamed! Love expresses itself in many ways."
"I said shut up you French Adonis!"
"Adonis?"
"Asshole! I said asshole!"
"No, no you definitely said Adonis!" corrected Lovino.
"Shut up you Italian bastard! No one asked you!" screamed Arthur.
"No one had to ask me, you English mother fucker! I know what I heard because it's what you said! And don't you fucking yell at me because you are obsessed with the French bastard!" Lovino's head began to resemble a tomato as he screamed. Francis smiled.
"Aw, my little tomato is getting upset," worried Antonio as he tried to calm his friend down.
"STAY AWAY FROM ME, YOU BASTARD!"
"Lovino! Principal's office now!" asserted Mr. Vargas strongly. "Everyone else back to their seats! That is enough trust exercises for today!" As Arthur headed back to his, Mr. Vargas pulled him aside. "Now, for your situation," he whispered to his student. "You can use my personal bathroom. My German friend recently left some magazines in there that will certainly help you rub out- I mean, work out your little problem." Anger grew inside Arthur as he glared at his teacher's understanding face. How dare this bastard insinuate that I have a problem!? Who does he think he is? And little? I'll have you know guy, I have a perfectly average sized 'problem'! Even above average in some countries! And it is definitely not a problem! Look at that French bastard over there. He's the one who did this to me in the first place! Now he's just sitting over there being all smug with his perfect smile, perfect hair and perfect face! I just want to kiss him-I mean smack him!