This one is going to be considerably shorter than the last one, which was short to begin with. And this one's happier. Isn't that nice? :)

America/Belarus- Schoolgirl Fantasies

'The room is silent but there is music in her head, in her heart, and she dances. Natalia Arlovskya, Belarus, wraps her frigid arms around herself and sways to the rhythm of a slow song. The Soviet Union fell, her brother doesn't love her-she doesn't love him, and she smiles slightly. The man had grinned at her, and she could not totally convince herself that he was just grinning in general instead of specifically at her.

But for once in her life, her heart overpowers her mind and she turns slowly, imagining the blue-eyed nation that had cared so much about her.'

Natalia ignored her sister's questions and her brother's confusion. She pretended not to hear them talking about her just outside her door. She just kept swaying and giggling silently, acting like a little school girl whose crush told her she was pretty. If she was human, in school, and a few years younger, then that would be exactly what happened. Alfred told her she was beautiful. And he meant it.

She imagined that she was in a pretty dress, with her hair all done up and her makeup flawless. She imagined that he had his arms wrapped around her and one of his trademark grins on his face. She imagined that he looked handsome and every girl in the world wanted him, but the only one he wanted was her. She imagined that he leaned in, slowly because he wanted her to give him the okay. She imagined that his lips tasted like hamburgers and coffee and something oh so Alfred.

She was too caught up in her imagining to notice when someone stepped in front of her and moved her hands so that they were on his shoulders and placed his own hands on her hips. She only noticed when that someone kissed her nose and laughed quietly. Her eyes snapped open and she glared at the intruder before she registered that it was America.

"What are you doing in my house, Амерыка?"

"I'm dancing with a beautiful girl," he said, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"My sister is not in here-"

"I wasn't talking about her. Can't ya see that you're beautiful?" he drawled, his small Southern accent sending pleasant shivers down her spine.

"I am not. Do not say such ridiculous things."

Alfred leaned down and looked her in the eyes, his glasses sliding down his nose slightly.

"I'm telling the truth. I swear."

"That still does not explain why you are here. In Russia."

"Your sister called me. She said you were acting strange."

"Why would sister call you?"

Alfred shrugged.

"I don't know. But I came to make sure you were alright."

"You flew all the way to Russia to check on me?"

"I took Air Force One! The Prez said it was okay."

"Brother let you inside his house?"

"Of course! He's worried about ya, too."

Normally, Natalia would've immediately run to her brother's room and demanded that they get married. But, strangely, she didn't want to. She was too busy getting lost in the American sky that was reflected in Alfred's eyes.

"Nat?"

"That is not my name."

"But it's so cute!"

"My name is Natalia. But for you, it's Belarus."

"But Nattie," Alfred whined.

"Do not ever call me that."

The American huffed, but then his grin returned. Only this time, it looked like he was plotting something.

"What?"

Alfred's smile turned into a smirk for a split second before he crashed his lips to hers and wrapped his arms tighter around her waist. Her eyes slowly shut and her arms slid around his neck as she kissed back hesitantly.

When they pulled away for air, a blush was covering both of their faces.

"Nat?" Alfred cut through the silence.

She rolled her eyes at the nickname. "What?"

"You know I'm a hero, right?"

"Sure, America. Whatever."

"Will you be my heroine?"

She was shocked, to say the least. Coming from America, she knew this was almost as good as an 'I love you'.

"I-um- yes. Yes. I will," she whispered.

Alfred beamed at her, scooping her up into his arms bridal style and dashing out of her room. He ran them throughout Russia's house, announcing to the world (well, to the air) that the most beautiful girl in the world was his.

Belarus just glared at his neck, mumbling about having told him not to call her 'Nattie'.