DISCLAIMER: I do not own Hetalia nor any of its characters. Hidekaz Himaruya does. The story and idea of the Hetalia fanfiction "When History Repeats Itself" however is written by me.
This story is partly inspired by the adorable Belarus fanarts I saw on Tumblr, and partly because I thought Bela fics needs more love!
Author's Notes: I started this fic three years ago back in the summer of 2014. Fresh out of school and still looking for a job, I had plenty of time in my hands so I penned this fic down. By the time I began writing the third chapter, things got more hectic...LIFE happened (curse adulting and all its woes!) and before I knew it, I was robbed of three years of my life... Recently, I finally decided to put an end to it and instead prioritize myself and my loved ones more. It was during this period of introspection did I rediscover these stories that I have written some years ago. To be honest, I was unsure whether I should still continue "When History Repeats Itself". It was quite a long time ago when I wrote it and I myself had forgotten some of the plot and background developments I had devised previously. However when I read some of the reviews (and remembered some of the PMs I received regarding this fic), I asked myself, "Shouldn't I at least try for the people who still want to read this and those who still want to know what happens next? Germany SHOULD [at least] make an appearance! I need to give this OT3 justice!" So yeah... I know this is SHAMELESS BEGGING on my part, but PLEASE... If any one of you reading right now liked this fic or you just want to know what happens next or you think that this fic deserves a chance...PLEASE LEAVE A REVIEW! I live and subsist on reviews, pinky swear! Reviews boost my morale and give me tons of inspiration to continue writing so... I hope you press that button over there below! *wink wink* Anyway, I sincerely hope that if anything, this chapter is worth the wait. I'll just leave my [other] cringe-worthy commentary on Author's notes 2.
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Chapter 3:
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"Germany…"
The other nation smiled.
"So tell me, how are you and your brother doing, Belarus?"
As he turned to face her, she couldn't help but fight a shiver. She hated the feeling of those pale electric blue eyes boring into her mauve colored ones. It was the same old sickening feeling she used to have every time they would inevitably face each other off several hundred years ago. His gaze was like a white hot wire pressing into her skin, branding and stripping her naked into the ugly pitiful being she swore she'd never revert back into.
But like a wild animal forced into a corner, she refused to fold under his gaze. Slowly reaching for the knives beneath her skirts, she returned his smoldering stare with a fierce glare of her own earning another low chuckle from the man beside her.
"You don't have to be so tense Belarus. I'm not here to wage a war," he stated simply, a smug grin plastered on his face.
The female nation's eyes narrowed as she scowled at the male beside her.
"Stop with the bull, Germany. What are you doing here?" she spat the words as if they were poison.
"I see your tongue's as sharp as ever," he remarked, the corner of his lips curling into a smirk at her words. Absently, he picked up his glass from the counter giving it a small twirl, watching the amber liquid swirl around the edge of the glass.
"To tell you the truth, I'm just plain bored. I happen to have a lot of free time this week and since England had all but graciously invited us to this party, I don't see any reason as to why I should decline his offer."
He paused, briefly drinking from his glass then continued. "How about you? You don't seem like the type who would consider attending even when bored. It seems rather unlikely that you would willingly go on this party on your own…"
The girl gave him a sharp glare before looking away, picking up her own glass by the counter.
"Shut up."
To say that Belarus was unnerved was an understatement. She had not expected to see him at the party at all. In fact, she could not think of anything why the man would willingly approach and converse with her seeing that their relationship was a long way from being amicable. True, the World War ended a long time ago but there were certain issues that a simple passage of time and peace talks couldn't solve. And to prove that point, one such issue was the man currently drinking beside her.
"So, let me ask you again. How are you and Russia doing?"
Her blood froze at the male's question. It was not an unexpected query seeing that she was near inseparable from her brother due to her own tendencies. Still, it didn't mean that she was already prepared to answer the inevitable question or even hear it asked by anyone. Especially not from him. She doubted she could. Not now, not ever. So she did the only way she thought she could by dodging and avoiding the topic as much as she can.
"I said shut up. Mind your own business elsewhere Germany," she snapped.
Her voice was dripping with venom and she made sure that he knew. Her futile attempts of intimidation proved ineffective, however, as the dastard man's face remained as infuriatingly aloof as ever.
The man gave a small hum in response but otherwise said nothing. He also did not give any indication of leaving the place so while the Belarusian was silently relieved that he did not press into the matter, she was rather uncomfortable having him stay any longer.
She scowled. The female contemplated on asking him to leave but before she could open her mouth to speak, a glass of amber liquid slid into her counter. She scrunched her eyebrows together and stared disbelievingly at the man, her lips pressed together in a tight frown.
"Here," he said.
Contrary to his initial expression, his face was serious and unamused.
"Drink."
It was not a request. Of that she was sure. And for some reason, there was something in his tone that made her blood boil and snap at the man with all the viciousness she could muster.
"Don't you dare command me, Germany! I am not your slave," she seethed, venom dripping in every syllable as she shot up from her seat.
Her mauve gaze met the man's smoldering electric blue. Slowly he leaned in closer, gloved hands tightly gripping her forearm, forcing her to sit back down.
"I said, drink."
Germany repeated coldly, pressing the glass crudely against her cheek. The rebellious side of the girl wanted to shout in protest but there was a finality in the man's tone that kept her quiet otherwise. With one last glare, she snatched the drink from his hands.
She eyed the liquid suspiciously, scrunching her nose in disgust. It reeked horribly of fermenting yeast, like the ones Feliciano Vargas used when making his famous Italian pizzas during rare visits on his house once upon a very humid summer day.
"Do not worry, I did not put anything in it. Just drink."
He gestured at the glass. Despite the loud blasts of the music in the club, his deep masculine voice remained audible, sending chills down her spine.
Her frown deepened. For a moment, she debated on whether to fling the contents of the glass to the infuriating man beside her. But her years of experience with the nation told her otherwise. A grimace formed in her lips as she hesitantly picked up the glass, raising it to her lips. The putrid smell of ferment hit her nostrils almost immediately and she nearly gagged. She forced the reflex down and emptied the glass in large few gulps, slamming the glass forcefully on the counter afterwards.
"There. I drank it. Happy?" she snapped, feeling a little bit dazed from the draught she just had.
To her annoyance, the damned man seemed to be not listening to her and appeared to be enjoying her apparent discomfort. She scowled darkly.
"What?"
Germany surveyed her with an amused grin.
"Well, that wasn't so hard was it?" he remarked before turning to the bartender and ordering another set of drinks for the both of them.
"What do you think you're doing? I will no longer drink."
Germany raised his eyebrows at her mockingly, a smug smirk slowly curling up his lips.
"Really?" he asked doubtfully.
She answered him with a glare that could have wilted flowers.
The male sighed. "That's a pity. I was hoping you would join me this evening seeing that as messed up as you are right now, you'd probably be in need of a drink or two. Are you quite sure you don't want to join me?" He continued to goad her, only succeeding in making the crease between her eyebrows go deeper.
He tilted his head to the side and shot her a coy smirk. "Drinks are on me."
And with that Belarus snapped. Haughtily, she plopped back to the bar stool leveling an icy glare towards the blonde male.
"I hope you're prepared to find your wallet empty because I'm going to run this bar dry so much that you're going to regret ever inviting me," she hissed through gritted teeth as she reached for a shot of vodka.
Germany's smirk could only go wider. "Don't worry, I won't." Then reaching for a masskrug of beer, he raised the glass for a toast. "Cheers?"
The female nation did not lose her glare as she knocked the huge container wordlessly with her own tiny shot glass making a dull bell-like clink. She downed the shot in one gulp, feeling the vodka burn a fiery trail down her throat. It was a pleasurable coil of heat, one that she welcomed better than the creeping hollowness clawing at her insides just a few days ago. She shook her head, ridding herself of unpleasant thoughts and reached out for another shot.
It was going to be a long night.
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Author's Notes 2: There you have it: Chapter 3...just in time for the last days of summer? Please don't hit me! (Hides) I was at a loss. (OOC sirens blaring in the distance) It might not be the action that some of you might have been hoping for, but we shouldn't jump the gun, right? Chapter 4 is still painfully under construction so... uh, reviews?... pretty please? *wink wink*
