Title: The Brit Next Door
Rating: T
Disclaimers: I do not own Hetalia, nor the characters, nor the Girl Next Door.
Holy tits. I really screwed this up, didn't I? I had this whole streak of updating at least once a week, but it's been almost two. I've been getting off and on a lot of restrictions and groundings because of stress in the family, and besides that, role-playing and trying to fix my cosplays before Kumoricon in September. So I haven't updated at all recently.
I'm sorry if this chapter is pretty bad, but I forced myself to update, so I wouldn't go that long without it. It's pretty short, but it's the entire point I wanted to make in this chapter. Review it?
Who knew time could slow down when you were alone? 'Cause, really, during summer, didn't it all go by so quickly? Especially when you spent most of your time alone at home watching TV? One minute you'd just be watching Phineas and Ferb, singing along to 'Gitchi Gitchi Goo,' and munching on an assortment of grapes you found stuffed at the back of your fridge, and the next? Boom! Adventure time was playing in the background as you fought with your parents for control of the big TV to avoid going into your room.
But then... it wasn't until you were really alone- and guaranteed to remain that way- that every second ticked by agonizingly, as you just waited for your death. That alone kind of way when... you just felt empty. Like nothing else really was worth fighting for. That you had just lost that one thing in your life that made each morning all the worth waking up for.
Alfred... had really only known Arthur... what? A week-and-a-half? He'd only been his student for a couple days; his neighbor for a few weeks. And for some reason, this longing to be able to see him again was stuck in his skull like a rock. It was practically torturing him.
And the right choice now would always be to apologize. His mother always taught him never to lie, and accept the consequences for your actions.
And, honestly, he was very much so accepting them. He was taking on the ditching loneliness so hard, he swore he'd collapse at any minute. It was like a heavy weight that always pushed into his chest; making him walk slower, continuing to be unfocused, slack off...
The entire weekend was wasted on lying in bed, being coaxed by Gilbert and Matthew to get out of bed and do something. Of course, the Canadian brother had no clue what was going on, which was a given. If Alfred ever told him why he just lost his hope in a couple days, the younger one would be pissed. He believed in 'privacy' and 'morals' and shit. 'Course he wouldn't understand.
Then there was the albino, who quickly caught on when Alfred motioned to his computer, and then Arthur's house, before flipping over and launching himself into a dreaming, depressed state of consciousness. It was stupid for him to get so obsessed with one person; there were billions!
But then again, each person was like a snowflake. Unique and beautiful. Once you lost that snowflake, you'd never find another like it. And just like a snowflake, Alfred was falling.
Falling for Arthur.
Monday came with a surprise.
The second Alfred got to second period, he knew things were different. Extremely. There was no assorted grouping of paper stacked high on the desk, and that familiar unicorn lunch pail was void. Instead, a mess of pencils and pens took the place of the arrangements, and a plain brown lunch bag sat on the surface of the desk.
The American froze, staring at that one spot he expected his former teacher to be. Sure, it was taken. But by a young woman with bright eyes and a cheerful smile, wearing the oldest clothes possibly made. Her annoying huge grin only extended as she bubbled and clapped her hands over Alfred's that hovered above her desk, pointing in an unbelieving accusation he hadn't said.
"Welcome to period two language arts!" She bubbled, closing her eyes. It was probably because her cheeks forced them shut. God, did this lady know how to frown? "I'm so happy to see you! I'm Ms. Sunny!"
Just like her to have that name, too. Alfred greeted her back with a nod, drawing back his hands hesitantly. "...Where's Kirkland?"
"Who?" Ms. Sunny asked, lips puckering as she pondered the question. "The other sub? Why, he had to take the week off. He promised to be back soon! However, for now, I'm your teacher!"
Alfred's eyes turned hard. "Where is he?" He demanded, an etch of worry pulling over his voice. If he had really taken vacation because Al was there... he'd rather just quit school now. Not put this much worry on him! Really, did Arthur have to care that much? Did he have to avoid him at all costs?
"Hmm? The principal just said he was having a rough time at home and needed a few days off. To recuperate. Apparently he went through some emotional shock." Ms. Sunny's eyes lit up in a secretive joy that only signaled she had something juicy to share. She drew Alfred in close, her total valley girl accent drawing out her words. "If you ask me, when I talked to him on the phone, I think it was something to do with his lover. A girl was in the background begging him to get off the phone! Who takes work off because of a girlfriend? Maybe they're divorcing?"
"Maybe..." Alfred replied back weakly, lending back the friendliness with a twitch of his lips. "I'll go take my seat... bell's uh... about the ring..."
"Right!" Sunny cheered and shooed him off, grabbing chalk to excitedly sketch her name out across the board in perfectly slanted letters, ending each with a special, little, self-esteem curl. She turned to face the awaiting students, clapping her hands together.
"I'm your new teacher for the week!" She giggled quietly to herself, seeming to get lost within her own words. And slowly, her eyes focused out as strawberries and rainbows passed through her vision. Charming. In a flash, she was back, and looked around the classroom. "Shall we get started?"
Alfred was too distracted, writing out the last of his note he'd been working on since last period. The one he planned to place on Arthur's door-step tonight in hope for a response. You never know; Arthur may just realize Alfred was truly sorry.
I didn't mean to make you mad, Artie... Forgive me?
"Alfred hasn't been showing up to class 2nd period..."
Didn't his parental units know said male could hear them? They were only in the other room. Still, Alfred was too heroic to let a little conversation about him get him down. Forcing himself to grin happily, he pulled the x-box remote closer to his body to continue playing the game with flashing lights and blood he had been challenged to earlier. Francis was across the room, happily scuffling Feliciano's tangled hair and telling him stories of his ventures in Europe. Next to them, Antonio and Lovino were cuddled, the stuff Italian pretending to be displeased with his position on the taller Spaniard's lap, though the hint of a smile played at the corners of his lips, his arms wrapped around the other's neck. And finally Gilbert, laughed and punched Alfred's arm every so often, winning practically every match they were pitted to. Alfred was mostly tuned out, however, listening in on his parents in the kitchen.
"I've been trying to talk to Ms. Sunny, and she said nothing seemed out of place the first day. Matthew's keeping his lips shut as always, and Gilbert's mother doesn't know anything." Grace mumbled through pursed lips.
"He's probably just realizing he's leaving school. Skipping classes he doesn't like. You know him; always avoiding proper English!" His dad's heavy laugh was obvious, puffing out the air like it was iron blocks that fell to the ground quickly.
It had been 4 weeks since Alfred had last seen Arthur. At all. He'd stare out his window in hopes of seeing him take out the trash... or even get in his car to go get groceries. But so far, the only trace had been a catch of his ankle scurrying back inside after Alfred found yet another car that looked very unfamiliar replacing Elizaveta's. She did say the other was a rent or something like that. Meaning, her time on the car probably expired, and she had to exchange it for another. Seemed pretty likely.
But, anyways, the note had gone unanswered. In fact, Alfred found it crumpled up in the bushes on the side of the house. It had practically sent him demanding he be let into Arthur's to force him to talk, but that would go nowhere. The old man would probably call the cops. Stupid prick. Always getting in trouble just because something was against the law.
The thought of Arthur's scolding brought a light smile passing over Alfred's lips, and ways he could use to annoy the Brit were cast through his mind. All the different phrases and sayings he could easily use to make him blush... Goddamn. There were so many.
"You've died 5 times." Gilbert snorted nearby. It took Alfred a few seconds to pull himself back from his stupor and blink at the Albino, suddenly remembering he had been playing.
"Fuck you." Alfred laughed, and laid his controller across the couch cushion. "You always cheat when I'm not paying attention!"
Gilbert rolled his eyes at the accusation, and stretched out across the white fabric. "You seem happier. What the hell happened all of a sudden?"
"Nothing..." Alfred breathed out with a smile, twittering at the imagination of those beautiful green eyes staring- or rather, glaring- over at him. He'd give anything to see them again; full of life and proud. "Just... I have something I should do." With that, he stood, though the others hardly paid attention. Gilbert stood with him, though was quickly shooed down into a sitting position. "I'm going alone."
And the message passed through the Prussian just as he saw Alfred stalking from the room and slipping out the back door. He gave a pleased smirk, giving a thumbs-up to the spot his best friend had been planted just seconds before. Maybe the blond could be level-headed and smart sometimes. Besides, the group of friends had been waiting an entire week for Alfred to realize he needed to apologize!
"And now it starts, oui?" Francis butt in, halting his conversations. "We shall see what Alfred has in store?"
"Let's just hope he doesn't screw the damn thing up. Seeing him all depressed and shit is weird."
"But, Lovi, he's just missing Arthur~" Antonio cooed in response to the previous question. Feliciano nodded eagerly, bubbling in content it might actually turn out well in the end.
"Yeah, well..." Gilbert sneaked a glance up the stairs set out behind him, his intentions clear. "Who wants to see the view we get of Arthur's house from the twit's room?"
Gonna get my Artie back! Gonna get my Artie back! I'll get that sexy little suga' to forgive me in an instant! Gonna get my sexy back! He won't be jackin' my swag on Friday no more!
So, maybe the lyrics were getting a bit off rhythm, and starting to lose sense. Nonetheless, they still repeated over-and-over in Alfred's head as he jammed out to his own little tune, his feet shuffling on the pavement of his next door neighbor's miniature porch... rise... thing. Y'know... the step out in front of his front door. What the hell were those things called, anyways?
Ah, fuck it. Footsteps were approaching. Funny; they sounded heavier than what Alfred remembered. Arthur must have been very happy to see him!
Alfred puffed out his chest and stood erect, making sure he used his height of 5'11 to his full capacity, and awaited the appearance of the much smaller man.
But, when the door creaked open, and Alfred glanced down to catch view of the tuft of blond hair...
He was met with chest. A chest covered with a bright yellow shirt, and the ends of a red scarf. It sounds pretty distasteful, but hey, this guy pulled it off. Trailing farther up this strange body, a neck was found, and above that? Unexpected plot twist; a head!
The head carried a butt load of blond hair- what was with the people in this town?- contained under a small, cylinder, black hat, and eyes that reminded Alfred of mini-moons. A permanent grin settled on his face, and it was obvious this guy was about 1 inch taller than Alfred. Even worse; he appeared to be more puffed up and proud without even feeling challenged.
"Min skat!" The man shouted behind him with a clear and rather raspy accent, his voice crackly and high-pitched. Ha! Alfred had a much better voice than this crazy fucker. Besides, what was he even speaking?
This is America! We speak American!
Holy shit, that line was stuck in his head.
The man nodded his hello to Alfred, shaking his hand heatedly before Alfred got a chance to respond. "Hej! Mathias Kohler! You?"
"Alfred... Jones?" Alfred respond back, before he found his excitement, not liking the thought of being outdone. He returned the grip twice as hard, shaking on a harder level. "Nice to meet you!"
"Ja! Same to you!"
And the tension between the two was brought up. Alfred felt his grip being called, and it was a sudden death round, seeing who would back down first. But seeing as both of the two held major pride, it wasn't as if it was easy. They leaned in threateningly, baring teeth, and growling quite ferociously until their veins popped from their arms.
"You're putting quite an effort in. Something wrong?" Alfred squeezed from his lips, grinning maliciously.
"Nothing, assbag. Perfectly fine." Mathias laughed back, fingernails digging into the back of the American's hand.
"I wouldn't be so sure, seeing the sweat on your brow."
"What about the way you're sticking your tongue out? Someone's determined."
"What the hell are you doing, Mathias?" Arthur intervened, grabbing hold of the Danish's waist and ripping him back into the house. There was a shocked silence that played in Alfred's mind as he viewed the sight of his ex-teacher. He truly had forgotten of Arthur for those moments, his intentions of appearing forgotten in the show-down.
But there he was. As good looking as ever. And he seemed equally as surprised to see Alfred.
"Ah, Art!" Mathias cheered, and scooped the boy into his arms, lifting him inches off the ground and into his fatal grip. Arthur winced, a slight cracking falling into the air from the strength put behind the lock.
"Art?" Alfred hissed.
"Mathias I..." Arthur was released, and he gathered himself before continuing. "This is Alfred... Alfred, what are you doing?" The blond questioned.
"I already met him, min blomst! Pretty interesting guy!"
"Arthur... what the fuck is he doing here?" Alfred demanded.
"Would you mind going in the other room for a bit?" Arthur breathed out, his face turning red from the development of stress. "So we can talk?"
Mathias grabbed hold of the Brit once more, despite his yelping protests. "But, I haven't seen you much in the past weeks. You've always been in your room."
"Arthur..?" Alfred grimaced, clenching his fists. His fucking nickname, stolen. And Arthur didn't even seem to mind.
"So can I stay?" Mathias pleaded.
"Alfred... Mathias... just... shut the fuck up for a damn second!" The blond shouted. The two begging for attention jumped, and the emerald-eyed man was set on his feet on the mat inside.
"Now...Mathias... this is Alfred, an ex-student of mine," Arthur introduced politely. However, his gentlemanly twitch of his chin faltered, replaced by a solemn frown. "And, Alfred... this is Mathias...My boyfriend."
