I do not own Hetalia. Hidekaz Himaruya does.
A/N: Hello hello! :D New Chapter ahoy! :D HAHA So, I'm off to New Zealand tomorrow! :D Will be back in 11 days! HAHA Wow… it's the holidays and I'm already busy D: HAHA Hopefully, a new chapter will be done and up when I come back! :D
WARNING!: There will be lots of mentions on Alcohol here! D:
COMMENTS WANTED TO IMPROVE THE STORY! :D
So, here's
Chapter 10!
Enjoy! :D
~PoisonIvania
The guy: Alfred F. Jones
Alfred, arm wrapped around the waist of a petite Japanese sashayed into the majestic ballroom.
He scanned the room as he led his "date" through the crowd. He was hoping to find a certain blonde that hadn't left his mind since the motorbike incident with Sakura the previous weekend.
He thanked his lucky stars that he had earned an invitation to Francis's party; he was afraid being the ex of the birthday boy's girlfriend meant he was banned from the party.
He scanned the room again, trying to spot a familiar figure. Yet again, his efforts proved futile.
"Are you looking for someone Alfred-kun?" a gentle voice asked from below.
"Yeah! Where the hell is Abby?" Alfred scratched his head in confusion, "She has to be somewhere in here!"
"Oh." Sakura mumbled.
Alfred, oblivious to the disappointed face of his "date" continued to survey the room.
"Oh! There she is!" Alfred then took his hand off Sakura's waist and pushed his way through the crowd, "Abby! Abby!"
Abigail turned to face the American, her eyes full of surprise.
"Al..Alfred? What are you doing here?" Abigail stuttered in shock, her eyes narrowing, "Where's your geisha or whatever she is?"
Wow. Does she look sexy today! Whoo~ Winning her back today in this state will be the best way to show that Frenchie who's boss!
"Huh? You mean Sakura?" She's over there!" Alfred pointed to the vast sea of guests behind him, "Oh! She's gone!"
"My my… That's no way to treat a girl, especially if she's your date Alfred." A voice interrupted their conversation before Abigail could answer.
Abigail watched as a fair arm wrapped around Abigail's waist. The arm belonged to a certain Francis Bonnefoy that Alfred really didn't want to meet. He felt a twinge of jealousy surge through him.
That's my lady you're touching! A voice screamed in his head. He fought back the urge to punch the cocky Frenchman who was smiling smugly.
"Hello Francis." he muttered, voice full of contempt.
"Why? No birthday wishes for moi?" And not only did you forget your date, you are here flirting with ma chérie?"
"Francis! He did nothing of that sort!" Abigail cut in exasperatedly, tugging at the Frenchman's sleeve.
"No need to deny it Abby dear, this man is très dangereux!"
Abigail and Francis continued to bicker for a few moments while Alfred observed them, staring dreamily at Abigail.
She looks the same when she's angry. Ahhh…how I miss her annoyed face. I wonder if he'll agree to my proposal later? Hmm… Hey! She looks like she's going to explode! That Frenchie sure doesn't know how to treat a woman! HAHAHA Time for the hero to come to the rescue!
Alfred then grabbed Abigail's wrist and pulled her towards his chest, giving Francis and cheeky and triumphant smile.
"Mine."
And then he dragged Abigail away, leaving a very dumbfounded Francis behind who could only gape as his girlfriend was being taken away.
The guy: Francis Bonnefoy
He watched as his "girlfriend" was being dragged away by a very rude American. By right, he should be happy that their plan was going smoothly but he couldn't help feel his heart corrode a little as he watched her being taken away from his side.
It hurts so much to see you being taken away mon cher.
He decided to drown his emotions in some alcohol to take away the pain. He then made his way to the alcohol table, spotting a familiar girl in a white and pink kimono drowning herself is what appeared to be sake.
"Hey darling, what's wrong?" he asked her, crouching down before her.
Sakura looked up, eyes obviously red from crying, answered, "Nobody loves me! I'm the worst!"
"Aww don't say that! C'mon, tell me what's bothering you?"
"Hic… the man I…hic… love is in love with someone… hic… else and I'm… hic… supposed to be… hic… in love with somebody else…hic…but I can't help but fall…hic…in love with this man."
"Oh I see… do you want to tell him you love him?"
"NO! I can't!" Sakura suddenly bawled, eliciting unamused glares from some of the guests.
"Why?"
"Because it would make things awkward! And I don't like awkwardness!" she buried her face in her hand, moaning loudly as she sobbed.
"There there…" he comforted her, patting her on the back, "I kinda understand."
Francis sat beside her, letting out a deep sigh. He took a sip from his wine glass.
"You know… I don't know what to do now. Can seeing someone I barely love being taken away be so painful?"
"You idiot."
"Excusez-moi?"
"You love her don't you?"
"Wha-what? That's impossible!"
"Then why would it hurt?"
"Ah!" Francis covered his mouth in shock as random thought bombarded his mind with a million questions.
What exactly is love?
Is this how love feels like? Pain?
Is this the peculiar feeling everyone dreams of?
Francis, being the ultimate Casanova of the school had always thought he was the epitome of love; casually dishing out love advice to his fellow peers and playing cupid to several successful couples in school. Furthermore, he always gave girls what he felt would be the "best time of their lives" by ensuring that they received 101% of his attention and affection.
But now when it came down to himself.
He was clueless.
"Hey buddy! You…hic…okay?" Sakura who was still sitting beside him nudged him in the ribs, jolting him out of his thoughts.
"Ah yeah…I'm okay."
"Well, what are you…hic…waiting for? Go get her!" Sakura gave Francis a little shove.
"You're right! I better go check on her now! What if she's being raped!" Francis let out a weak chuckle and got up.
Giving Sakura a pat on the back, he said, "You better go get your man too!"
"Ahhh…hic…I think I'll just rest here for a while more."
"Okay. Anyways, thanks for you help!"
Francis then proceeded to the alcohol table to get a cup of Abigail's favorite drink.
I think Abby will be wanting a glass of rum now…
The girl: Abigail Kirkland
Alfred stood before her, hands on the wall, trapping her in between.
"Abigail." he said with all seriousness, "Stop avoiding my gaze."
Abigail turned to look at him, emerald eyes blazing, she spat out, "What the fuck do you want?"
Abigail was getting angrier and more annoyed by the second; she could feel her emotions bubbling inside her, just waiting to explode.
"Well, if you have nothing to say, please let me go. If you are not aware, I am here to spend time with my boyfriend, Francis on this special day of his." she sneered sharply, carefully emphasizing the words "boyfriend" and "Francis".
"No." Alfred shot back, "I want answers Abigail."
"Then please book an appointment with me in the near future and I'll see what I can do." Abigail replied curtly, at the same time trying to manoeuvre her way out.
"No! You better answer me now Abigail Kirkland!" Alfred exclaimed, turning aggressive and pushed Abigail against the wall.
Abigail cringed at the impact she felt when hitting the wall. Between gritted teeth, she spat out, "What the hell do you want you bloody wanker?"
This time, Alfred seemed to calm down a little. He looked Abigail straight in the eye and asked.
"Why of all people him Abigail? What exactly were you thinking?" Alfred cried out, "He's a playboy! He's only going to break your heart in the end and you know it!"
"Yeah well, he wasn't the one who broke it in the first place!" she shot back in a tone that cut deep into Alfred's heart.
That one sentence seemed to shut Alfred up; he released Abigail from his grasp and his arms hung loosely by his side. He sheepishly muttered, "Yeah well… I have my reasons."
"Yeah? I don't believe a single one of them!" she screamed, rolling her eyes at the American before her.
She fought back tears that threatened to flow out of her eyes, stammering, "Well, if…you excuse me, I have a boyfriend who cares for me waiting outside."
"Wa-wait Abby!" Alfred swiftly grabbed Abigail's wrist.
"Do. Not. Call. Me. Abby. You have absolutely no right to do so."
"Oh? And that foul, snail-eating bastard has the right to do so?"
"I would prefer if you not speak about my boyfriend in such an uncouth manner."
"Why can't I? Hmm… Ms President? Why the sudden change of feelings for a certain Frenchman? Huh? Wasn't he a "bloody frog that should just die and rot because he is no more than a fucking parasite"?" Alfred counterattacked Abigail, quoting her exact words.
"We..well people change!" Abigail quickly hissed back, cringing as her words were used against her.
"But feelings don't change that fast! You guys got together a little too early for comfort!"
"Not as fast as you and that geisha!"
"For your information, firstly, a geisha is a beautiful performer and not a prostitute like you think so! Secondly, she has a name and it's Sakura! Anyway, you hated Francis! You despised him will all you heart!"
"Our hatred for each other was because of the underlying sexual tension we felt for each other! My feelings never changed unlike yours!"
"Well, they changed again." Alfred mumbled, "I wa… wanna start over."
Abigail felt blood rush to her face, her heartbeat became erratic, adrenaline surged through her body. What was this?
For the past few weeks, Abigail had tried her best to discard her feelings for the American, squashing even the tiniest bit of hope that this moment would come.
And now it did.
She didn't know what to do.
"Sta…start over"" her voice wavered, echoing in the hallway.
Alfred nodded, blushing. His hair flopped as he moved his head.
Oh god, I miss running my hands through that mess of hair.
Her eyes moved from his hair to his blue eyes.
I miss your eyes that told me exactly how much you love me.
She moved to his nose.
I miss the way our noses would bump awkwardly when we kissed.
She moved to his lips.
I miss the way you would kiss me ever so gently and then deepen it, every time I felt like I was falling.
She looked at his hand that still gripped her wrist.
I missed the way you would cuddle me and use the cold as an excuse just to wrap me in your arms.
Alfred had obviously sense the change in mood, he released Abigail's wrist from his grip and took hold of her hands. He took a step closer to her, closing the distance between them. He gave her hands a slight squeeze and looked her in the eye with his best puppy-dog eyes, "Please Abby? Give me one more chance?"
Her mind screamed "NO!" continuously as if it was its new mantra but her heart told her otherwise. Even though it was a small echo, she heard it and she trusted it.
Yes.
Alfred moved forward towards her, leaning in for a kiss. Her mind screamed at her to push him away but her heart told her to let him be. She didn't care anymore, letting her heart guide her actions. She let Alfred kiss her, wrapping her arms around the body of the man she knew only too well.
Then as she was caught up in the moment, she heard glass shatter behind her. The two broke apart, swiftly turning to see Francis eyes wide and a broken glass on the ground.
"Mon dieu, je suis désolé." Francis mumbled; his facial expression unreadable.
When he met the eyes of Abigail, she flushed, looking down to see her arms still around Alfred's body.
"S'il vous plaît pardonnez-moi." Francis muttered and spun on his heel, briskly walking away.
Abigail watched as he walked away and all she could think of was the expression on his face.
"Abby?" Alfred called her.
"Alfred, I need to go now." Abigail forced her way out of Alfred's embrace.
"Go where? After him?" Alfred's asked incredulously, "He's gotten the message for sure Abby."
"I just need to go!" Abigail pushed Alfred away.
"Alfred grabbed her arm tightly, "Don't tell me you still love that man! What does he have that I don't?"
Abigail was on the verge of going crazy, she broke away from Alfred's grip and snapped, "I don't know!" And she tore down the hallway.
What was she thinking? A minute ago, her heart told her to kiss Alfred and now it was telling her to chase down that Frenchman. Why did her heartache at the sight of Francis's expression?
She hoped with all her heart that Francis was still nearby. But why? Why did she care if Francis was still nearby? Why was she so intent on catching up with him?
And mostly.
What was she going to say to him?
That she was sorry? That what happened was totally an accident? That she and Alfred were not together still?
And most important.
Was the past still on?
It was a weird feeling; she had never once considered what to say to the Frenchman. The insults she spewed at him just came out naturally. Never once had she cared what he thought about her.
That moment, she spotted a familiar figure about to enter the sea of guests.
"Francis! Francis!" she called out, throat parched from the constant running she had done.
He stops in his tracks, turning around to face her.
She runs to him, arms open to receive a hug.
"Thank god you stopped!"
"What?" he snaps coldly.
"Francis… Let me explain…"
"No need to Abigail. Congratulations, you've gotten what you wanted. I hope you guys have a happy life together."
"Wha-" and before she can say anything, Francis had already disappeared into the crowd.
He called her "Abigail". Gone were the "mon cher"s and "darling"s and other absurd pet names he gave her.
Abigail slumped against the wall, her knees weak after the running.
Why was she so desperate to explain everything to Francis?
It seemed that the past few weeks they had spent together working towards their desired outcomes had made her change her mindset about him.
In fact, they had sort of become…
Friends?
Maybe more than that?
Francis's words run through her mind again and again. It's undeniable hat they had inflicted a wound so excruciating and unbearable to her heart. The tears she had been holding back finally spill out.
Francis obviously thought that she and Alfred had gotten back together.
He was wrong.
Everything was wrong.
And the person who need to know that was no where to be found.
Oh my god.
I think I've fallen for Francis.
With the sudden realization, she buries her face into her hands and cries.
The guy: Francis Bonnefoy
Damn it, it really hurts.
Francis pushed his way through the crowd, ignoring several good wishes. He couldn't think straight at all; the sight of Abigail and Alfred locked in embrace replayed over and over again in his mind.
"Urgh… Dammit!" he hit his head, trying to make the broken tape recorder in his mind shut down.
He flew down another hallway in his mansion to his room, slamming the door behind him.
He bolted to his cupboard, yanking the door open to reveal his secret stash of hard liquor. He grabbed a bottle of Jack Daniels and slumped against the side of his bed.
Popping the cork open, he took a big swig of the whiskey, letting it seep into his blood. He felt the alcohol rush through his blood, the intense heat making him flush. He yanked off his tie and unbuttoned his shirt, tossing his Armani suit to the side.
The memory of Abigail and Alfred was still imprinted deeply in his mind, as if no amount of alcohol could take it away.
He took another swig of whiskey, and then tossed it to the side. The glass bottle crashed as it hit the ground, shards of glass scattered all over the parquet floor.
Francis could've sworn he saw some glass rip his Armani suit but he didn't give a damn.
He crawled to his secret stash, this time extracting a bottle of vodka. The bottle seemed heavy and untouched; he had been saving it in case of an emergency.
He unscrewed the bottle cap and chugged the vodka down. He felt adrenaline pump through his blood vessels; the room simultaneously began to spin.
He discarded the bottle onto the floor, leaving it to roll away from him. He got, groggily making his way to his bed. As he did, he passed by the mirror and looked at his reflection.
There before him stood a man, disheveled, eyes blood-shot and face flushed red. Straggly strands of blonde hair hung loosely around his face.
Is that me?
He touched his face, completely disgusted at the image before him. He couldn't stand the sight before him. He was supposed to be the sexy Frenchman! However, the image before him made it seem like he was some sort of druggie. He clenched his fist, wanting to smash the mirror but he couldn't do it.
That is me.
Feeling overwhelmed by the grotesque sight before him, he collapsed onto the floor. A hand on the ground clenched into a ball until his knuckles were white, the other he buried his face in, soaking it with salty tears he had held in for so long.
The girl: Madeline Williams
Madeline stood at the corner, champagne flute in hand as she observed the guests.
Abigail had emerged from a hallway, with a tear-stained face that was evident by the puffy cheeks and swollen eyes.
Sakura was still in her cozy corner chugging down excessive amounts of Sake. Someone had better go stop her before she passes out.
Alfred had also emerged from a hallway, moments after Abigail had. He was smiling brightly, as if he had not a care in the world, but his eyes told otherwise; they looked worried. Although he didn't actively look around the room, Madeline saw his eyes roaming every corner of the room.
And Francis the birthday boy?
He was nowhere to be found.
I better go stop Sakura now. Madeline pushed her way through the crowd until she reached Sakura.
She was completely a sight.
Her hair that originally was in a neat bun was now a mop of black mess that covered her eyes. In her hand was a new bottle of Sake.
"Hey! Erm… you better drop that now!" Madeline tried to sound threatening to scare Sakura but failed.
"Ahaha! Who… are…yuuuuuu! Yu have no rite to take ma sake away!"
Sakura was right; Madeline couldn't be scary even if it killed her.
"Ummm if you drink anymore of that, you're going to die."
"Even better! I really want to die now!" Sakura exclaimed, slurring her words together and waving the bottle manically.
"Urgh…"
"Hey Maddie! Whatcha doi- SAKURA?"
Madeline turned around to see a very shocked Alfred standing behind her, looking absolutely dumbstruck.
"Come on, I'll take you home." Alfred crouched down to scoop the girl up.
Sakura looked up to see Alfred and a small smile crossed her face.
"Alfred… Watashi wa anata ga suki"
"Huh? I don't know what ya saying Sakura. Come on, let's go home." Alfred looked puzzled at Sakura's words but casually brushed it off.
He carried Sakura in his arms and before walking off, he turned to Madeline, whispering in her ear.
"Hey, you're good friends with Abby right? Can you look out for her for me? Okay? See you again during Christmas!"
He then walked off, carrying his little drunk princess, looking as heroic as ever.
"Où est Francis?"
Madeline understood the voice immediately; she turned around to see two chefs squabbling over what sounded like the birthday cake.
"Puis-je vous aider?
"Oui! S'il vous plaît appeler Francis! Son gâteau est cuit!"
"Bon, où serait-il?"
"Sa chambre! Au bout du couloir!" one of the chefs answered, pointing to the hallway across the room.
"Merci." She then followed the chef's instructions and went down the hallway.
As she walked down the hallway, she slowly observed the photos that hung at the side. Most of them were of Francis and a certain brunette who looked at least 20 years older than him. In all the photos, the both of them were smiling brightly.
The she came to a door; she knew it was Francis's by the carefully engraved "Francis" on the door. She knocked on the door gently.
"Francis? May I come in?"
"Ah! Madeline…come in."
She slowly opened the door, not expecting what was going to happen to her.
Francis gripped her wrist tightly and pulled her in, slamming the door behind them.
"Mon cher… You came for me non?"
"No no!" Madeline exclaimed flustered
Francis picked her up and threw her on the bed, crawling over her.
"Come on, what do you want from me tonight? Hmmm…" Francis whispered into her ear.
"Urgh…you reek of alcohol!" Madeline muttered.
She was helpless under the firm grip of the domineering Frenchman. She trembled in fear, cold sweat trickled down her face.
Someone help me!
Madeline let out a gasp as Francis began kissing her neck.
Madeline couldn't take it anymore; she screamed the name that first came into her mind.
"GILBERT SAVE ME!"
She felt Francis stop and rolled off the bed, he looked at her, eyebrow raised quizzically, "Gilbert?"
"Yes…I'm…sorry, I'm… in love with Gilbert and …not you." Madeline stammered.
She braced herself for the worst but instead he started walking to wards the door.
"I see, I got rejected. Ah… Nobody loves me right?" Francis's voice was melancholic.
He wobbled to the door, "Sorry for such a traumatic experi-"
And before he could finish his sentence, he fainted onto the ground.
"Huh? Francis!"
Madeline got off the bed and crouched beside Francis, giving him a shake, "Hey! Wake up!"
He was unconscious.
She bolted out of the room immediately.
The guy: Gilbert Beilschmidt
Gilbert stood at the corner next to the string quartet, slowly moving his body to the rhythm of the song.
The quartet was playing Vivaldi's Danza Pastorale from the four seasons: Spring. Gilbert wasn't one for classical music but the melody of the song really seemed to lift his spirits.
He had arrived at the party a tad bit late, he tried scouting for Madeline but he couldn't find her.
The song came to an end and the quartet started to play Vivaldi's Presto. The constant tremolos of the string instruments were starting to annoy Gilbert. He looked down at his beer can, jiggling it to estimate the how much was left.
Well, I better get more beer.
"Gilbert! Help!"
"Huh?" Gilbert turned around to see Madeline panting, "Maddie? What's wong?"
"Fra…Francis….faint…fainted."
"Huh? Where?"
"Come on! No time!" Madeline grabbed Gilbert's hand and they ran to Francis's room together.
Gilbert opened the door, "Francis?"
He looked down, complete shock passing his face.
"Mein Gott! He's dead!" Gilbert exclaimed exasperatedly, almost hyperventilating.
"No no! Calm down Gilbert! He's just unconscious."
Gilbert scanned the room, Francis's alcohol drawer was open, empty bottles were randomly scattered all over the ground and there was broken glass.
"Mein Gott! He drank himself to death! We better get his to the hospital!" Gilbert lifted Francis up from the floor in his arms; it was a good thing that Francis wasn't very heavy and that Gilbert worked out regularly at the gym.
"I'll ask people to call an ambulance!" Madeline said and bolted down the hallway.
Gilbert looked down at Francis, "Its going to be okay. I hope."
He walked down the hallway to see Antonio waiting.
"Amigo! What happened to Francis? ¡Oh, Dios mío! ¿Está muerto?"
"Huh? It was alcohol."
"Oh."
"Can you tell the people the party's over?"
"Okay!"
Antonio bounded to the microphone, "Testing..testing… Hola amigos and amigas! Guess what! Party's over! So you better leave or the Bad Touch Trio will scratch your expensive cars!"
The guests perked up at the words "scratch" and "cars". They all streamed out, hoping to protect their beloved cars.
All that was left was the Bonnefoy mansion servants, Madeline, Antonio, Gilbert and the unconscious Francis.
"Nice man Toni! I would give you a high-five but my hands are kinda busy." Gilbert smirked, then turning to Madeline, "Hey Maddie, have you called the ambulance?"
"Yup."
"Okay, now we wait."
That moment, Abigail walked in.
"Hey sorry, I left something, please don't scratch my c- Is that Francs?"
She ran over to Gilbert, she looked at the unconscious Frenchman, tears welling up in her eyes.
"I didn't know he would kill himself…"
"No! He drank too much!"
"Oh… Erm...do you guys mind if I tag along?"
"Yeah sure."
Abigail smiled a little as she held on to Francis's hand.
Gilbert looked at her, and then looked at Madeline.
Man…I wish Maddie would hold my hand and smile like that…
"The ambulance is here!" the butler ran in, followed by a few paramedics with stretchers. They lay Francis on the stretcher and rushed him out to the ambulance, the rest tailing closely behind them.
~Hospital~
Francis had been taken into intensive care unit, the rest of the gang waited outside, nervous about the tests results.
Gilbert stood between Madeline and Antonio. He put and arm around Antonio who was nervously chewing on a tomato. He felt a light tug at his sleeve.
"Yeah Maddie?"
"Erm… can I ask you something?"
"Sure."
"Who is that lady in most of the photos in Francis's house?"
"Oh… his mom. She passed away last year."
"Oh, why?"
"Cancer."
"Oh."
Gilbert remembered what happened a year ago. When Francis had heard the news of his mother's passing, he became a complete wreck. He was a complete mess; he didn't get over it until 5 months later. Everyday, he would hide in his room and wallow in self-pity. It took not only the bad friends to help him, but also his extended family.
Just then, the doctor walked out. Gilbert rushed to the doctor, "So what happened?"
"Alcohol poisoning."
Note!
ma chérie(French)- My darling
très dangereux(French)-Very dangerous
Mon dieu, je suis désolé(French)- My God, I'm sorry.
S'il vous plaît pardonnez-moi(French)-Please forgive me
Watashi wa anata ga suki(Japanese)-I like you
Où est Francis?(French)-Where is Francis?
Puis-je vous aider?(French)-Can I help you?
Oui! S'il vous plaît appeler Francis! Son gâteau est cuit!(French)-Yes! Please call Francis! His cake is done!
Bon, où serait-il?(French)-Okay, where could he be?
Sa chambre! Au bout du couloir!(French)-His room! Its down that corridor!
¡Oh, Dios mío! ¿Está muerto?(Spanish)-Oh my god! Is he dead?
A/N: LONGEST CHAPTER EVER! *does a stupid dance* I guess this is a treat for y'all cause' I won't be around for the next 11 days! HAHA YAY! 我很高兴！HAHA I do speak Chinese ;D I realized New Zealand money is very pretty :D HAHA So, this is a sad chapter! D: Anyways, I realized that originally this fic was supposed to be focused on PruCan but I have diverted to FrUK! NEVER FEAR! MORE PRUCAN IS COMING UP! :D HAHA So, this chapter shows the bad effects of ALCOHOL! :D HAHA Now, I need to go sleep...:X Its 11.33pm here O.o HAHA
YumeMiteru: Thanks! :D French has been corrected for this chapter!