Heyo! So this is the fourth chapter to the story. And guess what? Mattie is in this one! Yay!

I've also been having alot of trouble deciding over Franada and PruCan. Some reviewers have said one and some have said the other. I am trying to please eveybody, so please bare with me.

Also I have come to a decision that this fic will have GerIta and Spamano. But like I have said before, if you have any other suggestions review and tell me. I also want to have Russia in it so maybe you could think of a pairing for him?

And we still need a character to kill off. Yes, I know it's evil of me...but somebody needs to die to fit in with the plot.

Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia or any of it's characters

Warnings: Same as usual. Language, Fluff and other stuff!

Gliding on a piece of glass

Chapter 4- Family Handwriting Classes

I had told Alfred to why I was breaking down in front of his own very eyes. I told him about C-Charlie and why I didn't want to ice skate in the first place. As I spent my 10 minutes explaining it to him, his thin caramel brows furrowed as his examined my weeping face. I hardly ever cried over anything, anything at all...that is...all except for Charlie. My crying increased as small tear drops were falling to the ground. Alfred bent down to reach head level with me sitting there on the ice. He reached out a rough hand and gently rubbed it against my wet face, pausing me slightly from my actions. My cries turned to whimpers with my lip quivering. I bit down on my bottom lip and shivered under his cold touch.

He smiled at me and said "Are you ok now?" and I nodded my head in reply, I could tell my face was heating up. He removed his large hand and wrapped his arms around my small frame, pulling me into an embrace.

I was shocked, to say the least. I didn't know that the idiot could be caring towards another without it being himself. Obnoxious twat. I smiled at this...like I said we had only met thirty minutes earlier and he already cared about me, as I think I did for him. He was possibly my friend...maybe, but no-one could ever replace the bond that myself and Charlie had shared. Though I suppose he could try. I'd like that if he tried. I burrowed my head into the crook of his neck and rested my hands on his broad shoulders. It felt...nice. Could I have wanted Alfred to be more than just my friend? Perhaps it was love at first site?

No I refused to believe in such malarkey, I am NOT in denial. I am just thinking on what is purely logical. If I had...If I had, fallen in love with him at first sight then that would only contradict itself. The state that I had seen the slob in when I walked through that door was horrendous. Absobloodylutely(1) dreadful! Such a disgrace! I was very disgusted!

But still I clung onto Alfred for longer than I should have and whispered a quiet "Thank you" into his ear.

He pulled back and smiled again, that big overly-exaggerated grin. And he stood offering me a hand which I politely took. He pulled us over to the side of the rink and helped me up onto the platform. Next he pushed me down onto a chair and crouched down to start un-buckling my skates.

"Maybe we should leave it for today, you can come back tomorrow if ya up for it!" he told me "You've had quite a day, haven't ya?"

"Yes I have...but I'm not a child, I can take off my own shoes!" I explained. If any chance, I was older than him. He looked younger than myself and acted like it too. Some of his childish antics much reminded me that of a 3 year old. Only...he was tall and had a husky voice.

"Ok ok!" he apologised and lifted his hands in a defensive stance "I guess I'll just write ya down my digits, so you can call if you have any problems". He looked around for his gym bag and pulled out a notepad when he found it. The ash-blond started to write on it and stuck his tongue while concentrating; I found it rather cute...wait! No! What am I saying?

The moron held it out to me and I took it from him, frowning at the messily scrawled-out hand writing accompanying a selection of numbers. Where he wrote his name he had put in brackets "The Hero" and a wink face with a tiny heart. I blinked twice at this and a small pinkish blush crawled its way back onto my cheeks. Damn him, bloody wanker! He did that deliberately, he knew that I was going to get flustered.

"By digits, I am assuming you mean your telephone number, then yes it would be wise for us to share each others contacts. I held my hand up, waiting for him to give me the pen and paper. He realised what I had wanted and held them out for me. He turned his head to the side, staring at the wall and nothing in particular. How odd...a moment ago he was fully confident in handing out his number, but it wasn't ok the other way around. That was really strange. I decided to mess with him a little, and only took the pen. I grabbed his other hand and began writing my own telephone number on it instead of the notepad. He spun his head around quickly and stared at me with wide eyes, his face heated up also. I guess he wasn't expecting that.

"There are my contacts, call me as you wish" I said to him as I walked out of the door, swaying my hips a little. I could have a little fun, couldn't I? And from the corner of my eye I caught him flicker his eyes to my arse and mumble something under his breath that I didn't quite catch. I'm pleased that he had enjoyed my show; I can be a flirt if I want to. Not a floozy though, never a floozy. That would just be dropping my standards to much. I am a gentleman who sometimes wishes to be a pleasure seeker, not a prossie(2).

I walked down the corridor and turned my head to the front desk when I reached the reception. The young girl from before wasn't there...she could have gone on break. I looked at the top of the desk to see some papers that had been left. It was a sign-in/sign-out sheet. The receptionist had left it there for me to sign for when I left and I did just that. I reached out to the pen holder and took the most presentable one that I could find; one that was not covered in green rabbits, pink unicorns and fairies. What kind of man do you think I am? I don't like things like that, what are you suggesting?

The pen was seemingly new and had a black ink cartridge inside as I found out when I put down my signature and the date. My hand writing was simple, but well sophisticated. I join it up neatly and do tend to add small loops onto the flicks of my 'y' and 'g'(3). I was taught how to write proper from a young age, from my father. He had wanted me and my siblings to grow up to be successful as soon as possible. He even went as far as to have family handwriting classes in our home. Charlie sometimes attended because he was born in a rough part of England, and not ever being taught a single thing. My father was a strict man...he often criticized every little accomplishment that I had worked at. Never to my brother's though, only me. Maybe it was because I was a bastard. Strictly speaking yes, my mother had an affair at one time and things happened. Thus I was born. Meaning I am not nor ever was my father's own flesh and blood. And for that I was hated by him, though still tolerated enough to live under the same roof as him. My father disliked me as I disliked him equally as much.

I had finished signing 'A. Kirkland' onto the paper and popped the pen back into the holder. I looked back once more to see if either the girl or Alfred was following me on out, but with no signs of anyone coming I headed for the double doors. I pushed on it while turning the open sign hanging crooked, to closed.

Across the road from where I was stood, I could see two men having an argument. The man on the left looked an awful lot like Alfred, and I squinted again to make sure I hadn't had just been seeing double. But with a closer inspection I found out that it weren't him. His hair was slightly longer and wavier, with a random wisp of long hair curling down the front of his face. His eyes were almost blue, like Alfred's, except they had more of a violet tint to them. They still were hidden behind a pair of glasses though. He had a large hoodie on that was far too big for his slender body. That of which was red in colour and has a white maple leaf on it. He was Canadian?

I noticed that he also had luggage in his left hand and in his right was what seemed to be a stuffed bear...weird.

He had a very deep blush on his face as he scuffled his feet on the floor while he answered the other man. I couldn't hear what the Alfred look-alike had said. The other man, by the way, looked to have very light blond hair. It was as if it was white. His eyes were the strangest I had ever seen; they were bright red. Was this man an albino or something? I had never laid on anyone like his before. He was wearing a dark blue shirt with a grey crossed pattern on one bottom corner of the material, a black leather jacket with matching trousers. I would think going out in public while wearing leather pants was a bit eccentric. He started saying something back to Alfred look-alike and he pointed in the direction where his back was facing. I was curious to hear what it was that they were saying and moved closer, away from the building but not on the road.

"Why? Why can't you stay with me?" the albino man said. I noted that his accent was heavily German, from what I could tell. He shoved his hands in his pockets and pouted. How childish. Stupid German.

"Y-you already made me m-miss my flight" the Alfred look-alike answered. His voice was really quiet and I was surprised that anyone could hear him at all. He must be a rather shy person "Gilbert, go home to Elizaveta and Roderich..."

"No! I want to be with you!" the albino shot back at him. Meanwhile the shy one was shaking his head and clutching onto the stuffed bear tighter. I could tell he was nervous about the situation.

"Look, I have to go. I'm already late as it is" the quiet man explained. He picked up his bag again, which he had placed on the floor earlier, and turned. He whispered a small "goodbye" and scuttled away. The albino man removed his hands from his pockets and tried the grab the shy one's hands. He ran off after him.

"Mattie! Matthew! Get back here Matthew Williams!" he shouted to the figure ahead. The shy one in front only began to run faster.

"No! I have to go see Francis!" the other man shouted back to him. I swore that I saw tears trailing behind him.

After the two had reached the end of the road I could no longer see them running off in the distance. I shook my head and walked across the road to get to my car. Hold on a bloody second! The Alfred look-alike looked like Alfred, he was presumably Canadian, and his name was Matthew Williams according to the albino man...so that was the same Matthew, as in Alfred's brother, that was supposed to be teaching me how to skate...

He had not gone on holiday...meaning Alfred had lied to me. Alfred had lied...to me.

THAT BLOODY STUPID FUCKING WANKING TOSSER! I'M GOING TO TEAR UP ALFRED'S BODILY PARTS TOMORROW! GIT!

TBC

How was that, guys? Are ya pleased that I brought Mattie into the picture? I sure am! :3

Anyway, the next chapter should be based around Matthew and his relationships with Prussia and France. I may do it in his POV for a change. So look forward for more drama. I think I'll switch the story around a bit and have the clips with Alfred and Arthur included as well. That part should be in Alfred's POV...just to let you know.

(1) This is a phrase we say in Britain (where I live :D) It's a mixture between Absolutely and bloody. Thus brings us to Absobloodylutely!

(2) Prossie is short for Prostitute. It's another word for Hooker or whore...something like that.

(3) This is how my handwriting is. On the ends of 'y' and 'g' I add a little loop. It looks so kick ass! Naw not really...but it is a habit I picked up from when I was younger.

So yet again keep reviewing and give me some more suggestions of pairings! I really need a whole load more pairings! ^.^