England was completely shocked when Ukraine suddenly kissed him. He certainly hadn't seen it coming, and froze in surprise. It wasn't a long kiss by any means - it just lasted a few seconds - but it felt great. He hesitantly placed one hand at the back of Ukraine's head and began to kiss her back a little, when the door flew open. England yelped in surprise, and Ukraine jumped about a foot in the air, trying to grab England's arm and steady herself. Instead she tumbled to the ground, taking the startled Brit with her. He landed on top of her, faces less than an inch apart.

Arthur blushed a crimson red, quickly scrambling off the busty woman on the floor, and looked over to see who had come bursting in so rudely.

He swore under his breath. It was just his luck. Russia was standing in the doorway looking as if someone had slapped him in the face. At his side was America, and to England's revulsion, France.

Finally Russia spoke.

"WHAT ARE YOU DOING TO MY SESTRA!?" he yelled, violet eyes wide as saucers. America had a similar expression on his face, and England was not prepared to look at France.

"T-this isn't w-wha-what it looks l-like!" England stammered, his words almost undecipherable. Ukraine was slowly turning an impressive maroon red, and nodding so fast her hair was having a hard time keeping up.

"I svear, brat, it-it vasn't England! I-i, um..." she mumbled. She quickly switched to Russian, speaking so fast England wouldn't have been able to understand her even if he could speak the language. It seemed that with every word she spoke Russia's face grew paler.

There was a beat of silence, and Russia's eyes darted between the two red-faced nations in front of him.

"But why HIM?" he yelled in English, throwing his hands in the air in frustration. Ukraine mumbled something incomprehensible under her breath and Russia swore loudly, storming out. America and France were left standing in the doorway, completely bewildered. Ukraine was sniffling a little, rubbing at her eyes.

France's blue eyes glimmered.

"Ohonhonh-"

"You can shut the fuck up, Francis," England growled. "America, go upstairs." he said, voice slightly softer, but still very threatening. America bolted up the staircase. England moved over to France and cuffed him hard around the ear twice, then dragged him out by the hair.

"Miss Ukraine?" a quiet voice said from next to her. Ukraine jumped, clutching her heart.

"Wha- ah! Iceland, vhen did you get here?" she asked, rubbing her chest.

"I've been here for the last 3 minutes." Iceland mumbled. Ukraine pulled him up onto her lap, stroking his hair a little.

"I'm sorry, Iceland. You vere being so quiet!" she said, cuddling him close.

"Your face is still red." he said. Ukraine groaned inwardly. She was hoping he was only here because he wanted some hakárl or something.

"It is?"

"Yes. It is. And England is upset. He's probably smacking France senseless. Go calm him down." he said bluntly, his face emotionless. Ukraine sighed and gently took 3-year old Iceland off her lap.

"I'd better speak vith him." she said, rubbing her neck a little. Iceland padded over to the sofa and snuggled down into the blanket on top of it, so that only a tuft of white hair was visible.

"I'm going to sleep." came the muffled reply from inside the blanket. Ukraine bade him farewell and left. He wished she hadn't.

Iceland quickly pushed the blankets over his hair, making sure there was no way of detecting he was in there. He gripped his legs close to his chest to stop them twitching, and he tried to slow down his breathing, but it quickened as he began to panic.

A footstep was heard nearby and the Icelandic boy froze. He dared not move a muscle, and he even stilled his breathing. He couldn't let her find him.

He was shaking a little with fear, and he could tell the blankets were quivering with him. He was surely doomed. Another footstep was heard directly in front of him. Iceland suppressed a terrified screech, clamping his lips together. He heard a rustling and felt the blankets shifting just above his head.

The blanket was peeled away from his upper half excruciatingly slowly. Iceland half hoped she'd stop and go away, but with a sudden, much quicker movement, she ripped the sheet away and tossed it to the floor.

Iceland tried his best not to shiver as her cold, cold hand slid underneath him and pushed him upright. With her other hand, she turned his face towards hers. Ari winced at how hot this second hand was. It was hotter than an open flame! But he should've been expecting it.

"Open your eyes, Ari Sigurrosson." she purred. Her voice made a chill run through his bones, but he obeyed her, cracking open those fear-filled violet eyes. They met hers and he shuddered a little.

A slightly bloodstained bandage covered one of her bright, yellow eyes, wrapping around her head and disappearing under her sleek black hair. Flecks of grey and white dusted the ends of her hair, giving it the appearance of being coated in ash, and her one visible eye glowed with a faint yellow light. Her jet black hair reached to the middle of her slender back, and she was clothed in a strange dress. One side of it had patches of frost spread across it, dripping onto the floor. There were patches in between that were scorched, smouldering and red hot at the edges. Her eyelashes were encased in a thin film of frost, and she seemed to be evenly balanced between burning and freezing to death. She looked to be no older than thirteen years old.

"How about we play a game, Ari?" she chirped. Her voice was high and heavily accented, much like Finland's voice. Only, her voice was disturbing and frightening, not innocent like Tino's.

"I don't want to..." Ari gasped, shuffling away from her a little. The girl brought her hand up to his face and traced a fingernail down his jawbone. Iceland gasped as the thin tip of her nail sliced into his skin like a razor. Blood began to seep from the cut, though he dared not touch it.

"Now, let me ask you again. Shall we play a game?" she giggled.

"Please, not again!" he said, tears of fear gathering in the corners of his eyes.

"We can go outside and play hide and seek in the forest again!" the terrifying girl said, her pale lips pulling up at the corners into a freakish smile. Her teeth were white as snow, and as sharp as a knife.

"I can't!" Iceland sobbed, trying to block her words out of his ears. "Who are you, and why do you keep hurting me?"

"Oh, I'm so sorry!" she exclaimed, her voice apologetic. Ari's eyes widened, was she actually sorry? "I didn't know this hurt you!" the girl cried, pressing her hands to Iceland's face. She scratched her sharp, pointed nails into his skin, burning and freezing his cheeks. When she withdrew them, her nails were coated thinly in blood. Iceland let out a silent scream, clutching his face.

"It's not nice to refuse a lady, Ari Sigurrosson, you should know better!" she said, her voice just as creepily happy as before. "I'm going off to play by myself. I'll come back for you tomorrow though! Don't worry!"

The girl left, her hair swinging behind her as she dashed out the window. Iceland curled up under the blankets, crying softly.

(A/N)

Try and figure out who she is, I dare you xD

The yellow eyes with one covered was partially inspired by the Vocaloid Oliver who I do not own and nor do I own Hetalia. Bluh.

I like being mean to Icey.

And France.

Also, check out Rockleetist on youtube. Her English vocaloid covers are insane! I love them!

And I just realised that right now I'm wearing headphones that block out all sound except the music and I hate them, since I rely so much on my hearing. It's disturbing not being able to hear my footsteps.

I'm rambling.