For the most part, the rest of the plane ride to America was quiet. The chit chatting that had been done while France and Belarus were drunk had slowly faded into silence as they sobered out. The two never really liked each other's company anyways. They'd rather be without it. But as it was said earlier, Belarus would prefer to ride beside France rather than beside total strangers.
She managed to convince herself that it could've been worse. Sober France was silent and left her alone, just as she did to him. It could've been Poland though. He would talk nonstop, sober or otherwise. The annoying Poland would get all pouty if she didn't respond to him too. Yes, it was better that it was France she rode beside.
New York was cold this time of year, Belarus soon discovered. Not as cold as Russia's home, but surely it was close. She didn't know, nor did she care. Cold was just cold.
France decided that he'd be checking into a hotel for the first few nights here, but not before Belarus convinced him, using the persuasiveness that she'd been perfecting for the longest time, to give him America's address. She wouldn't care if it was one in the morning; she would be visiting him immediately.
How she would get there, though, was another story all together. She hadn't thought of that at all. She was still completely unprepared. Honestly, all she was prepared to do was fall down and fall asleep.
That thought caused a shudder to flow through the Belarusian. America's homeland was already causing thoughts she never really experienced before. Even during the most tiring days of chasing down the wonderful Russian man she called her true love, she still had never felt like she would just fall down and sleep anywhere. Such feelings could only be caused by the lazy, greasy food eating people of America. They must've been emitting such an awful thing. The sooner she was done here, the better.
The next thing she did was sit down on the closest metal bench. Oh lord, she felt like she sat down on a thick sheet of ice. If only she knew how to get around, she could be at America's house already. She knew he, at the very least, didn't enjoy cold so much as Russia did.
By absolute luck, or perhaps fate, whatever you'd like to believe in, France happened to be driving by Belarus on the way to his hotel. His upper lip twitched up to reveal a ghastly grin. Surely, being the gentleman that he was, he couldn't leave a most lovely woman such as Belarus alone in the cold. That was absolutely right. He'd do the gentlemanly thing, pull over, and assist her into the warmth of his hotel.
So, that's what he did. The tires of his rental car slid a bit on the slick slush of the snow covered roads as he pulled up to the sidewalk where the blonde sat. The glass keeping him safe from the icy winds was rolled down, sending a sharp cold into his car and a chill up his spine.
It didn't faze him for long though, and he managed to call out, his French accent sliding off his tongue in an unintentionally seductive manner, "Oh, Belarus, dear! What're you doing out here in this dreadful weather? Come, I'll take you to my hotel."
The Belarusian's twilight blue eyes rose from her lap and sent glares in the Frenchman's direction. Such a question he dared had the audacity to ask made her want to gag. Had he no respect for anyone?
Ah, but that was such a silly question to ask, wasn't it? Of course the Frenchman had some respect for others. It was only after he'd manage to get them in bed was it that he'd show them respect. Beforehand, everyone was meat at a grocery store waiting to be picked up for dinner.
However, a moment later, the girl was up on her feet that were shin high in snow. She trudged over to the blue car and looked in the window. France waved to her and smiled, almost sincerely (almost being you could only tell that it wasn't sincere if you knew the man yourself). With a sigh, she opened up the passenger side door and got in. She'd already been on a seven hour plane ride with the Frenchman. What could a car ride do to her?
Apparently, a lot.
The car ride was so awful. It was just so full of awkward silence. She stared straight ahead, straight through the windshield of the car, but she could feel the occasional stare of the blasted Frenchman on her.
She was feeling most ecstatic when she was able to exit the car and enter the American air again. At this point, it was starting to seem like a blessing. Ugh. Belarus took a deep breath in and then slowly pushed the air out of her lungs. Just think positively, Natalya, she told herself.
And so, she did.
You're not with America yet. France's stupid hair couldn't get any stupider. France's stupid face is as stupid as it's ever going to get. Big brother will love you. You'll be away from France soon enough. You'll be done in America soon enough. Big brother will love you. You won't have to do so much. Big brother will love you. Big brother will love you. Big brother will love you.
Soon enough, the blonde woman was laughing out loud without realizing it. The silly thing didn't end up catching herself until she caught France's blue eyes staring at her. Not just that, but his expression. It showed… well, perhaps it was his way of showing fear? It hadn't been disgust, but it wasn't a good thing.
Sure enough, the blonde male had been a bit afraid. It wasn't a secret that Belarus wasn't exactly in the best state of mind anymore. Had she ever been? He couldn't remember. It'd been so long since she was a little girl, so sweet and innocent. Oh, she'd been such a gem. She had always been so close to her dear older brother Russia, always wanting to protect him. Her twilight blue eyes had always gleamed happily when he protected her himself.
He even remembered when America used to hang out with her often, always telling others how he considered her to be like a younger sister to him.
He shook his head. This was no time to reminisce about the past! She was a grown woman now, and she was certainly not that innocent anymore. She wasn't innocent in a number of ways. She was a coldhearted, cruel monster. And that was that. Oh, and she had lady parts. Sweet, sweet lady parts.
With a quick smack to his cheek, he told himself to get it together. She was not someone to be with. No sane person would even imagine being with her. Damn it! France swore inside his head. That was just an insult to himself! One second he's thinking about lady parts, and the next he's calling anyone who thinks of her that way out of their mind! Faire foutre!
The Belarusian blonde was the one to break the awkward stare they fell into while they'd been immersed in their minds. She pivoted on her right foot, dress flying up with her movements, and began to walk away from the French blonde and into the hotel they'd arrived at.
The heels of her black shoes clacked against the marble floor of the grand hotel lobby as she approached the front desk. Her arms brushed against her dress back and forth as she stepped up to the man working behind the counter.
In a swift motion, her hand slammed against the counter. The sound resonated throughout the spacious room. The man looked up from the desk. His eyes were gray and rather dull. They seemed to stare past the aggressive woman, into some unknown space. His blonde hair was short and messy, as if he'd not brushed it in such a long time.
His deep voice spoke a bit slowly to her, "Can I help you, ma'am?"
Belarus was sure that the surprise she felt from the politeness of an American showed on her face. There wasn't a thing she could do to contain it.
So, after a moment of regaining her composure, she answered, "I demand a room for a night."
With a nod, he turned her back to her and scanned a drawer for room keys. After a moment of scanning, he faced her again. He shook his head and told her, a bit quicker now, after having a moment to wake up from a quiet night, "I'm afraid all of the rooms are checked out. We've none available until tomorrow."
A snarl pushed its way past Belarus's lips. Her dainty hand reached towards her knife when someone's cold fingers wrapped around her wrist from behind. A gasp escaped her as she turned around quickly to see who had managed to sneak up on her like that.
At eye level, the twilight blue eyes met someone's leather jacket. As she rose her head further up, her eyes met with other blue ones, blue ones that belonged to a blonde. This wasn't the blonde she'd come here with. This was the one she came here to see.
She felt her cheeks heat up a bit before she yanked her wrist away. She was about to shout at him for sneaking up on her and touching her before she remembered her mission. Instead of raising her rough voice, she turned her head to the left, no longer meeting America's eyes, and whispered, "What're you doing here?"
He dropped his hand to his side and looked at her, wondering if he'd really seen that blush or if it was just his imagination overacting again. England said his imagination overacted a lot. He cleared his throat and turned his head slightly to the right, staring just past her platinum blonde hair into the area behind the counter, "France called me. He said that you came to visit and couldn't get a hotel room."
Her head shot forward again quickly. However, she didn't look at America, she looked straight past him. Her eyes locked onto France who was grinning from behind America. A cold glare shot from her to him. That вырадак! She was going to murder him one day.
America shivered at the hatred that burned into the girl's face. Well, he rethought that; she's not exactly a girl anymore, is she? She's my age. She's nineteen, just like I am. In fact, she's really only a month younger than me. Wow. America found it so strange that they were the same age. He'd always considered her younger than him. Even though she was violent, he figured that maybe if she'd been protected and loved a little more, she would've been a really nice girl.
Oh, god. If England could read his mind with that strange magic of his, America would be screwed for having such thoughts like that! Oh god, if England found out what he was doing right now, he'd be screwed.
Without even realizing what he was doing, he reached for Belarus's hand. Her glare turned on him before she realized what she was doing, and before he could realize what he was doing, he quickly grinned widely, "Come on! You can stay at my house while you're in America! It'll be great!"
The blonde's glare dropped and in its place, wide eyes remained. She didn't even care that he was touching her anymore. He'd just invited her to stay at his home. This wasn't part of the plan, her mind hissed at her. However, it may be a good opportunity… right?
Another breath was pulled into her lungs as she thought. With an exhale, she looked up at the American and forced a smile, "All right. Let's go to your house."
Holy. Crap.
What's this? Eternity FINALLY uploaded chapter six?!
Yeah. I did.
Excuse- I mean, reasons time!
So, end of April into the beginning of May, I was in a really bad place in life. It was bad.
For eleven days, I had absolutely NO WAY to write.
Then, when those eleven days were up, I had no motivation to write.
Like, I got out of that bad place, but I just couldn't write for whatever reason. I wanted to, believe me, but every time I opened it up to start, I couldn't. And it wasn't just this story, it was ALL of my writing. I couldn't do any of it.
However, I've finished this chapter! I hope to finish a chapter every week for you guys! I'll try my best! Actually, you have my wonderful girlfriend to thank for my motivation to write again XD
Translations:
Faire foutre! - Fuck!
вырадак! - bastard/freak
I hope you all liked this chapter~!
Oh! One more thing! I may go back and edit some later chapters. My writing may have changed (This chapter I went back and forth between lazy and really trying! Sorry! D:), so I kind of wanna change some things. Also, I may not have been entirely consistent. I wasn't paying much attention ^-^" Last thing: I'm taking a Spanish class now! I'm hoping that one day, I'll be able to translate this story into Spanish :3