World Academy- a huge school filled with students of different countries. It has many unique people: from the American jock Alfred, who claims to be the hero of the school, to Feli, a sweet pasta-loving Italian and member of the Newspaper Club. The thing about this school is that all of the students are personifications of their country. You are a new Island country that is small, but is now a popular tourist place. Your name is _.
It's your first year at the academy, so far it has been tough, considering you have tons of bigger countries wanting to own you... Such as Alfred, Arthur, Ivan, and Francis. During this past year, you've learned all the best hiding spots, in case one of them see's you. Its pretty sad you have to hide from those buffoons. Hey, what is a smaller country suppose to do when bigger, stronger countries chase them?
You at least have two great friends to help you out, Matthew and Ricardo. Matthew is the personification of Canada, a sweet, quiet spoken guy who carries around a polar bear! You don't know how people don't notice him. It's not everyday you see someone carry around a polar bear. But what should you suspect from a school whose students are countries?
Your other knight in dreadlocks is Ricardo, the personification of Cuba. He can be loud and likes to tease his friends, but he has a sweet side and protects the people close to him.
As you walk to the hide out, known as the 'Man-cave,' You think back to the time you first met Ricardo and Matthew. It's a day you will never forget.
It was a normal day for you at the time, Francis was chasing you like normal, trying to get you too marry him. You were running down a wide, empty hallway; everyone else was in class. Francis had spotted you coming out the girl's restroom and he took the opportunity to have some alone time with you.
You turn a corner; sweat was starting to bead up on your forehead and you were starting to pant. "Ohon hon hon~" The familiar annoying laugh was coming in close. Hearing that laugh in this situation makes it feel like you are a victim in a horror movie.
You turn another corner you have never been down before. Francis' footsteps were getting closer, now just a few feet away. You pushed your legs harder and looked around trying to find a place to hide untill Francis was bored looking for you.
Arms wrap around you from behind, squeezing the air out of your body. He put his lips close to your ear. "I got you my petit pays~" (Small Country) his breath tickled your neck. "L...Let go!" You started to shake, scared of being in his arms.
"Aw~ Calm down, _! How 'bout we marry like Roderich and Elizaveta? You will 'ave ze joy of marrying an amazing lover and great cook hon hon"
"Thanks, but no," You said trying to squirm out of his tight grip. He started to stroke your (H/C) hair, his fingers twirling the strands.
"Such beautiful (H/L) hair, _..."
"You are being a creep, Francis...If you don't let go, you will regret it!" you said trying to sound as threatening as possible.
Your country is small and peaceful; you typically don't resort to violence, but when it calls for it, you are'nt afraid to fight back.
"You are so tiny _! You can't do anything to bad to moi!" (Me)
To prove him wrong, you started to violently thrash around and scream your head off.
"Shush, my petit pays."(small country) He put his hand over your mouth; a little to loosely, because you bit into his palm and earned a big French yelp.
"That's what you get!" You bellowed. Sadly, his arm was still around your waist.
"What is going on here?!" A thick, husky voice was heard from behind you and heavy-foot steps were padding down the hall.
In a hurry, Francis tightened his grip on your waist and put his bleedng hand over your mouth again, harder this time.
"Oh, bonjour! Ricardo right? I'm just playing a game with my dear wife." You mentally face-palmed at his terrible lie.
As he was distracted with this new person, you tried to knaw at the flesh of his hands; but with his hands so tight you could barely open your mouth.
Ricardo came around, his tall tan-self presented himself in front of the two. He was big, with dark brown dreadlocks and chocolate brown eyes. He looked awkward in his school blazer and slacks. A scowl was present on his face. Looking at him, you realize he is in your algebra class. He always quietly sat in the back, listening to music on a old cd player and sometimes he lightly stomped to the beat.
Hopefully, He isn't a big idiot and buys into Francis's story. "Your wife?"
"Yes isn't she mignon?"
"A steak?"
You're doomed.