Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia. Almost forgot to put it...
Evelyn moved down the street her feet dragging through puddles of rain. I guess this is my fault too, she mused as the rain continued to fall.
Yes ma'am, all your fault. Who dares nature by saying things can't get worse? Voice chimed in on her mental conversation. She felt hesitation from him before he spoke. He had done that several times now almost as if he didn't know how to address her. She threaded her fingers through her hair stopping in the rain. Who was she kidding? She was lost in London! She had no wallet, no passport, she didn't even have a shitty hotel room to return to.
Ma'am, your little telephone's still working. Voice said hesitantly trying to be helpful. Though, with her luck, the phone was going to short circuit from all the rain...not that it had much of a charge anyway.
Yep, life sucked. She just wanted to go home!
Oh, turn left here! There's a good place to eat down that way. I loved it. A nice woman owned the place; it was like having a home cooked meal away from home. Voice directed.
What about no wallet don't you get? She mentally snapped at Voice. Now shut up! She huffed at him irritably ducking under an awning to get some relief from the rain.
She could feel the mental presence pouting. You don't have to be so mean about it. I'm just trying to help.
I don't take directions from a voice in my head.
Ha, I'm not just a voice. I'm Alfred F. Jones! She could see him posing in her mind's eye like some overgrown kid.
No, you don't exist. I don't name things that don't exist. Evelyn sneezed ruining the annoyed angry aura she was trying to send Voice's way.
Does calling me "Voice" count as a name?
Evelyn didn't dignify that with a response.
"Well, aren't you a sight?"
The American sneezed again turning to face the owner of the voice. It was an older woman, hair completely gray and tied back in a bun. She had a shawl covering her shoulders to protect against the chill from the rain. Evelyn wiped the water from her face with her sleeve. Since her jacket was already soaked, it didn't do much good.
"I'm sorry ma'am. I'll move in a minute."
The woman shook her head. "No, no dearie. You are going to come inside and warm up."
Evelyn read the sign hanging in the window. She was standing in front of a tea shop; small cloth covered tables were visible through the glass while a display case in the back had a selection of pastries for sale. They looked delicious and her stomach growled loud enough for the elder woman to hear. The girl blushed wrapping her arms around her middle.
"I'm sorry, but I don't have any money. I don't want to bother you."
"I didn't ask for money poppet. Now just come inside and we'll get you something warm to drink." She took the reluctant girl's arm leading her inside. Evelyn didn't even have enough energy left to fight back and Voice's cheers about free food weren't helping.
The woman pointed to a table near the display case before shuffling behind it. She filled a kettle with water and put it on a burner. Then, she placed several cookies on a plate and set it in front of Evelyn.
"The tea will be ready in a moment. Go ahead and eat a biscuit or two while we wait." She went back behind the counter taking down cups and saucers.
Evelyn fidgeted awkwardly rubbing her palms against her jeans and biting her lip. Voice urged her to take a cookie, but Evelyn resisted. Kindness from random strangers always came with a price—hadn't she just learned that the hard way? She glanced toward the door contemplating running. This was so stupid. She shouldn't have run from the house like that…at least, not without her wallet. How did she keep getting into these situations?
"It won't bite dear," the old woman said as she placed a steaming cup of tea in front of the girl.
Evelyn jumped. "What?"
The woman smiled. "I pride myself on my baking. If you don't try one, I would be insulted."
The American quickly picked one without really looking and took a bite. Still warm chocolate melted on her tongue as it mixed with the taste of vanilla and brown sugar. It wasn't as sweet as ones she had back in the States, but it was exactly what she needed. Evelyn finished off the first cookie and reached for another: a ginger snap this time.
"And I was worried you wouldn't like them," the woman chuckled taking a sip of tea.
Evelyn blushed again nibbling at the cinnamon sugared cookie. Now self-conscious, she laid the cookie on her saucer and tried the tea. She wasn't a huge fan of hot tea, but she didn't completely hate it either.
I wish she had coffee… Voice complained.
She probably does, but I'm not going to be rude and ask, Evelyn retorted somewhat harshly. As far as she was concerned, it was Voice that was ruining her life. If not for it, Arthur wouldn't have fled, she wouldn't be wandering London and her life wouldn't be this screwed up.
Whatever made this woman take pity on her, she was at least glad for the cookies. "Thank you," the girl rasped out.
The woman readjusted her shawl. "You're quite welcome. Everyone needs a bit of comfort now and then and you seemed to need a good bit."
They continued in silence watching the rain fall outside. Evelyn didn't realize when she finished her tea or when she ate the last cookie. She reached for another only to be surprised when her fingers touched empty ceramic.
The elder chuckled. "More tea dear?"
Evelyn shook her head withdrawing her hand. "No, thank you."
Ask for coffee. I haven't had coffee in years.
You were dead for years, she deadpanned.
Ha! So you admit I exist. You can't be dead unless you exist, he replied smugly.
No, now shut up.
Voice continued to complain, but she ignored him turning her attention back to the old woman who was watching curiously.
"Ah…sorry, I've just been…preoccupied lately." She rubbed her palms against her jeans again.
The woman nodded knowingly sipping at her tea. At some point, she had poured herself another cup. "Is there someone you can call love? I wouldn't fancy walking out in this weather especially without a decent coat and umbrella."
Evelyn gave her a sour look. "No one I want to talk to right now."
The woman just smiled. "Take it from the old and wise dearie, no matter what argument you have with those you care for, don't let it stew for long. Plenty of good relationships have been ruined that way."
Arthur slammed on the breaks of his car with unnecessary force as a triad of words that would make the queen backhand him spewed from his lips. His lip curled back in a snarl as his knuckles turned white with the force on the wheel. This girl was going to be the death of him. Maybe not physically, but if that blood pressure shit Portugal kept making him read was to be believed it was going to be of a heart attack.
His eyes unfocused from the road, and the bumper to bumper traffic he was in, to momentarily watch his windshield wipers go as fast as the little motor that powered them could across his window. He took a deep breath and tried to count his blessings or whatever bullshit the last stress pamphlet Portugal had shoved under his nose said.
1. The girl was admitting a nation aura, so he could find her.
2. He wasn't searching for her on horseback. In this rain, that would suck.
3. …
He tried, he really did, but no three came to mind as someone honked their horn behind him like the presence of their horn would make all the cars magically move. Speaking of moving, why did she run? He paused mentally at that thought. The better question was why hadn't she run earlier? Who stays to actually hear out the crazies? A Hero a voice whispered in the back of his mind. He gritted his teeth and tightened his hand on the wheel.
3. Scotland didn't beat the hell out of him before he left. That was mostly because Bran saved him and Patrick showed up with his stash of smokes for the nicotine addicted nation.
4. William was at home to take care of Bran. Although...that was a black mark on him since he had bruised Bran's ribs and broken his nose.
5. Patrick was at home safe and dry. Though poor, and probably traumatized, Evelyn was not.
He needed to stop reading those fucking pamphlets. Now he was finding ways to turn plusses into reason to lament. His thoughts lazily circled back to Bran standing in front of him giving William a hit-me-I-dare-you look as he (Arthur) cowered behind his older twin. Maybe they should have wiped the blood from Bran's nose and changed his shirt before they came down, but the twins had been curious as to who slammed the front door.
Of course it was Evelyn, Arthur chided himself.
William had been mid grab to position Bran in a hold that would have made him a useless shield when Patrick had stormed rather angrily into the room. He had shoved the smokes into Williams hand and demanded that he not be shunned from the rooms in the house he was raised in, the house that by all rights meant more to him then all of them combined. They had of course been ashamed. The teenaged nation had then asked where the female hell spawn was at to give her a warning (read: threaten) about taking over his house.
That was how he had stupidly ended up stuck in downtown London traffic. Like a tourist,he grumbled to himself.
By now, she was probably sick again. Or beaten up and bleeding in some alley. Or kidnapped by Russia. Honestly, he couldn't leave the girl alone for an hour without her getting into trouble. He hit the steering wheel impatiently. Damn it, why weren't they moving? He could move faster on foot. He tapped the steering wheel a few more times with his thumb thinking about it. They could always find someplace to wait out the rain when he found her...but she might run from him again.
Screw it. He pulled off to the side, grabbed the umbrella from the back and started down the rain-drenched sidewalk. There were relatively few people walking about thanks to the downpour so at least he didn't have to fight through crowds. Still, he cut through a couple alleys to save some time. She wasn't moving around anymore which could be good or bad. He hurried his pace mind already overloading with bad scenarios. The buildings became a gray blur; he hardly paid attention to where he was going concentrating on her aura.
He came to a sudden stop cocking his head to the side as he tried to pinpoint her. He backed up a few steps looking through the window of an old tea shop. Evelyn was sitting inside talking to an elderly woman holding a tea cup in her hands like a last lifeline.
Breathing a sigh of relief that she was safe, he reached for the door handle.
Evelyn thought about what the woman said. Maybe it was true for a normal argument, but she couldn't possibly know about this one. Arthur had lied to her about something huge, life changing huge. It changed everything…if what they told her was true. No, it was still insane. Maybe they were supernatural beings with some weird connection with the land and people, but not her. No way.
Exactly. That's my job.
Dude, you can have it. She groaned and put her head in her hands. Stop talking to me! You're not making this weirdness any easier.
You think I want to be stuck in a girl's body?
It was a legitimate point, but she wasn't in the mind to give it to him. The bell above the door tinkled announcing a new arrival. Evelyn peeked through her fingers and froze.
"May I help you?" the woman asked noticing Evelyn's reaction a fraction of a second later.
"Good Evening, Mary," a familiar male voice said.
"Well aren't you a sight for these poor old eyes, come in Gabriel come in. The good Lord knows I could use some more tan people in my life."
"Evelyn paused really looking at the man. At first she had thought it was Antonio or Spain or whoever the hell he was, but this man...
"And it is good to see your pretty twinkling eyes," he winked playfully at the old woman who laughed like a school girl. "And who is the menina bonita?"
"I'm Evelyn," she mumbled looking away from the dark haired man.
"Ah muito bom, I know who is looking for you," he smiled at her rather airily. Maybe he was related to Spain, but truthfully Evelyn didn't care. How dare they send some stranger after her just so she would drop her guard? As if! She would show them.
"Well I've been found, so now I'll leave!" She stood up slamming her hands on the table her chair moving fast enough to fall over.
"Whoa menina bonita, wait..."
"I will not be made into some game!" She all but screamed at him fist balling.
"Game?" his eyebrows scrunched together in thought. "Arthur hasn't played cruel games since his empire crumbled." It was more of a mumble and Evelyn wasn't sure if she should've heard it.
"Then what do you call this? Him sending you to, what, fetch me?"
"Being a friend." Gabriel sighed moving towards her slowly and with the clear destination of her chair. He righted and gestured at it. "Sit and we will talk."
"I don't want to talk to you," she replied petulantly.
"Then you will listen. England is harsh and England can be cruel but Arthur is loving and Arthur is lonely."
"Well then he should quit being a dick."
"If only it were so simple," he sighed sitting across from her. "I am Portugal. England and myself have had a very long alliance, sim? But England betrayed me when I needed it. He didn't come to my aid when he should have and my people suffered for it. Arthur worried so much he made himself sick. Barely strong enough to stand he made it to a boat and he made it to my shore. He found me then indebted himself so he could afford the supplies needed to take care of me. England may be hard to love, but don't shun Arthur for what he cannot control. Don't be like the rest."
"You make no sense." She took a sip of her tea. They sat in silence before Evelyn stood again this time much calmer.
"Take my umbrella." Gabriel smiled at her. She looked at him moving across the room and taking it.
"Thanks," she muttered opening the door and heading out.
He's here. Voice said. She knew because she felt him. It was strange being able to just feel when someone else was close by and knowing exactly who it was.
She turned her head to look at the umbrella that came to her waist on the ground under the shop window. Emerald green eyes peered at her from under the rim as Arthur looked at her from his position on the ground.
"Will you...?" he began. "Do you want...?" he tried again."Can we talk? You can pick the place. I'll tell you everything, just...don't leave me." The last words were a desperate whisper barely heard over the sound of the rain.
"Okay," she said softly to him. He smiled gently before she turned a hard glare on him. "But if I don't like it, you will buy me a ticket home and never contact me again." He nodded eyes still glittering with hope.
Mary walked out of the back with a cup of coffee. "Did you get her to go home?"
"I tried," Portugal laughed hand on the back of his head in a carefree motion. "It's up to Arthur and her now."
"It was cruel of you to leave him in the rain like that." she smiled at him taking Evelyn's abandoned seat.
"That bastard deserves it. I came all the way here to surprise him and he has drama going on." He gave her a what-can-you-do shrug. "At least I can spend the evening with a pretty lady." He smiled at her.
"And I have free labor for repairs."
He sighed dramatically looking at the retreating umbrellas. Don't mess this up my friend.
A/N: Finally, another chapter! Sorry, this one would've actually been out earlier, but I'm home from college now and we were having internet issues and since that's how my beta and I communicate and edit this, it delayed things.
Now, I have a small request for you all. Along with this story (even though it's far behind), I'm posting some original writing on deviantart. It's sakurasurichan . deviantart . com (remove spaces). If any of you have some time, I would greatly appreciate if you could go over there, take a look and tell me what you think.
Reviews are loved! Later!