Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia. All rights go to its creators. I also do not own To All The Boys I 've Loved Before.

Content Warning: Depictions of Violence all courtesy of Belarus and her knives.

A/N: I decided since doesn't have the same series function as Ao3 and because the amount of chapters in each part is fairly small I will just continue each part in this first story.

Part 2: The One Where Belarus Has Confusing Feelings for England

This story is based off of Prompt 5: Confusion of Prompts and Short Stories (Special England) by StarryLittleThing on AO3

"Russia didn't understand. Since he began to meet England every week to drink tea, he couldn't help but feel this weird tightness in his heart every time he saw the English nation with someone else. Yet, he couldn't impose himself, fearing to lost one of his few friends. One day, after a meeting, he discovered some petals in his mouth. However... it wasn't sunflowers but roses."

Summary: Things were going well for Belarus: she was going to eat dinner with Russia again at a later date, there was a chance that he could reciprocate her feelings, and he'd sent her a dress. At least they would be if all of those things were true.

Chapter 1: A Package

Before the World Meeting in Latvia

Belarus heard her doorbell ring one afternoon and was surprised to find a package. It had no return address. She had returned from England's house a few days ago.

Belarus squatted down to grab the cardboard box and brought it inside her house. Belarus grabbed a knife and stabbed the top of the box that was taped. Sliding her knife across and grabbing the flaps she opened the box.

Inside was package stuffing. Belarus threw out the stuffing and pulled out what looked to be a dress was very similar to the navy blue dress that Russia gave her and she always wore. This dress was maroon in color and had lace at the bottom and on the collar instead of ruffles. Belarus briefly pondered putting it back into the box and setting it on fire.

But a voice in the back of her head that sounded oddly like Ukraine said, It's nice, you should keep it. Don't waste clothes.

Belarus sighed and dropped the dress heedlessly into the box. Belarus then felt a smile spread on her face. Big brother must have sent me a new dress! But why didn't he put his address? Belarus then slapped her palm to her head. Russia doesn't want me to know where he lives. Even so he'd leave a P.O. Box.

Belarus shrugged, and went over to the phone. She picked it up off of the receiver and dialed Lithuania.

"L-lady Belarus! What a surprise! I didn't expect a call from you! What is the occasion?"

Belarus thought Lithuania talked too much. "What is Russia's phone number?"

"As much as I'd love to give you that Mr. Russia said not to."

"Please Lithuania, it is important."

"Oh a-alright, I can't resist you when you say please." Lithuania said before giving her Russia's phone number.

"Lady Belarus would you–." Belarus cut him off by hanging up the phone.

Belarus could feel herself grinning again. She was going to call Russia and hear his sweet voice over the phone. Belarus dialed Russia's number.

"H-hello?" Russia asked, voice unsteady.

"Big Brother Russia!" Belarus said, excitement in her voice.

"Belarus! H-how did you get my number?"

"Is not important. I got the beautiful dress you made me. You are too kind brother!" Belarus let out a little laugh as she twirled her finger around the cord. "I'll ship you a big bottle of vodka as a thank you my beloved."

"I did not send you a dress. N-now don't call me anymore." Russia said, hurriedly before the line clicked, signalling he'd hung up.

Belarus furrowed her eyebrows. If Russia didn't send the dress then who did?

Lithuania.

Belarus went into her kitchen drawer and pulled out a lighter. Belarus flicked the lighter on and saw the flame burn. She went back over to the cardboard box.

She stared at the box in disgust, repulsion, and loathing. She clenched her fist and grit her teeth, lowering the flame close to the edge of the box.

Wait. What if it wasn't him? Maybe someone else?

Upon thinking a bit more, she ruled Lithuania out because he would've put his address and he didn't sew. So she wouldn't burn the dress, but she had to find out who sent it to her. The best solution she had was to wear it at the World Meeting and hope the dressmaker would notice.

It would take too much time to simply ask every single person.

I kind of want to flaunt the dress for Russia, and make him jealous.

She only wore what Russia made, or she bought herself. The last thing she wanted to do was make Russia think she was not available for him. But the dress might make him pay more attention to her, like England said, she shouldn't try so hard. Russia should come to her, not the other way around.

Belarus unlit the lighter and grabbed the dress out of the box. Belarus went to her room and hung the dress on a hanger to go beside her black one.

Then she went back to get the cardboard box it came in. She then sat inside it for a few hours before watching the sun go down.

00000000000

Belarus went into the guest room. She'd have to wash the bed sheets now that England had slept on them. Belarus pulled the sheets off of the bed before she gathered them up. She walked to the laundry room and stuffed them into the washing machine. Belarus went back to get the pillow cases. Belarus grabbed a pillow.

How long had it been since I had someone else over before England came? Belarus frowned.

Only Russia mattered.

Russia hadn't been over in a few decades not counting the recent incident last week.

But something inside of Belarus caused her to bring the pillow a bit closer to her face.

Maybe it was the allure of Male scent or something.

Whatever it was, Belarus soon found herself nose deep into the pillow smelling whatever shampoo the Englishman used. It smelt earthly with a hint of rose petals.

"I don't think you should've done that." Belarus flinched and dropped the pillow. "Fuck!"

She turned to see Russia, the version in her mind anyway. He narrowed his eyes dangerously as if giving her a warning.

That is right. I'm getting rid of England's scent for when Russia will sleep over. She thought. Belarus pulled off the pillow case and went back into the laundry room to throw it in with the rest of the sheets. She poured in some detergent and turned on the washer.

"You're loyal only to me aren't you Belarus?" Imaginary Russia asked, his hand resting on her cheek. His eyes held a worry that Belarus was not used to seeing. She was leaning with her back against the washing machine.

"Of course Russia. Are you doubting my devotion to you?" Belarus asked as the imaginary Russian looked away from her. "Russia?" She asked as the imaginary Russian clenched his jaw. He had his sights on something.

"What are you doing here?" He asked someone down the hall.

Belarus was shocked. Her only imaginary companion for years was Russia, seeing as the real Russia hadn't come to his senses yet. But another imaginary person decided to invade her mindscape? It only spelt trouble.

"Aww Russia you aren't threatened by me, are you?" Imaginary England mocked him, pinching Imaginary Russia's cheek.

"Go away mother fucker!" Belarus yelled at the other imaginary nation. "Leave Russia and I the fuck alone!" She continued, clenching her fists.

"Darling, I'm a part of your imagination. You want me here." The imaginary nation said, poking her in the forehead, a sly smile on his face.

Belarus shook her head. "Russia, make him go away!"

Imaginary Russia took out his pipe. "I suggest you leave or I will crack your skull open. You're upsetting my beloved Belarus!" Imaginary Russia's stare was intense and dangerous.

Imaginary England's eyes widened, he backed up. "A-Alright I'll go...for now. Till we meet again Belarus," He said with a wink before he disappeared.

"He won't be back, Russia don't worry! I only love you, forever and always," Belarus said before pulling the imaginary nation in for a passionate kiss on the lips.

Imaginary Russia chuckled and patted Belarus's hair. "I know. If only my real counterpart could see how wonderful you are."

"He will one day." Belarus said before he too was gone. Deep down Belarus wasn't so sure if those words were true.

As the washer washed away England's scent from the bed sheets he slept on, Belarus hoped they'd wash away the memory of his scent from her mind too.

A/N: Welcome back folks for part 2! Hope you enjoyed the first chapter!

I got the idea for the physical maifestations of Belarus's love intrests from the movie version of "To All The Boys I Loved Before", I thought it was cute.

This entire part will be told from Belarus's Third Person Limited P.O.V.

Thank you for reading! Criticism welcome.