A/N: I wonder if any of my readers out there think I'm slightly psychotic. If any of you think I am, you maybe, just maybe, be onto something that even I'm not aware about.
To my lone reviewer, thank you for your input.
Warnings: Potential OOCness (I'm not sure if I'm doing his character right since no one brings it up but to be safe, I'll include this), language, Canadian spelling, updates at random times, blurbs of Arthurcentrism (you honestly don't think I would have forgotten this term I spun, right?), etc...
Characters: Fem!Canada and England
Pairings: Mapletea (surprise, surprise!)
Word count: 2261
Disclaimers: Hetalia belongs to its respective owner. I merely slaughter his characters for my own sick amusement.
Subtle
In which Arthur is too embarrassed to be honest and forthright
Arthur has a bad habit.
That's all there is too it.
No one is sure how this trait came to surface.
It's a nice contrast to his younger years but even then... it's really different. There is no blending of the two unless you wish to shred his standoffish appearance. Maybe then you'll see the true man. The man who was an empire so vast that controlled a quarter of the world.
And you'll see the true visage beneath it.
Oh what horrors lay beyond that opaque facade.
Arthur knows this.
He knows of his limits.
His power.
His evils.
He knows it too well as he played a hand in sculpting the world while other colonies and countries were struggling to survive or emerging.
His colonies... why yes his colonies.
He sculpted those too, you know.
Using only the clay of the highest standard, the British standard.
Nothing can compare, really. Truly and utterly.
But let us digress from this dreary topic.
He has a bad habit.
A horribly, completely, truly and utterly bad habit.
You see, he isn't straightforward but can be rather blunt at times.
He speaks when spoken to but if you aren't to his level of conversation then kindly piss off. It was as simple as that.
He is easily riled up by the slightest of annoyances but could fall to his knees when he found himself in the engulfing shrouds of despair.
Such a strange man Arthur Kirkland is.
Especially when he is in love.
As mentioned before, Arthur can be quite blunt when he's comfortable. It is of great shame that he's always in a mess when pursuing his romantic interest.
It had been well over a hundred years since he first met his beloved Madison (and no she did not belong to that fat ass twat).
It had been after the American Revolution that he gave her his undying attention and came to appreciate each detail.
He would pride on how young lass had grown up so fast under his supervision. Unlike a certain frog, he did it right.
Though as time passed by (it always did and you couldn't stop those moments of true bliss), Madison became more and more beautiful.
It was to be expected as those of General Winter's family were as beautiful as fresh snow but Madison seemed to stick out the most.
Sure the siblings of Russia were handsome but nothing ever pierced his heart like her ethereal beauty.
These thoughts often consumed him until he finally discovered the source of his feelings.
It was love.
Now it might be ridiculous to say he has discovered love for the first time, which he has not, but to have feelings for his charge of all people threw him into disarray.
He wanted her.
Not just her lands but her heart.
He had her lands and her heart in the palm of his hand but he wanted more. A heart was no good if it couldn't give him what he coveted, her love.
Madison was too green (he darkly chuckled at this thought as his Madison is the white of snow. Green wouldn't do justice) for something like love.
This still doesn't deter him from using strings to guide her fate because if he didn't do it, she would be gone forever and Arthur refuses to ever let that happen.
Each string he controls safely returns to him but it isn't what he wanted.
So he tries with his Victorian etiquette (and the girl was fabulous at mastering its art quickly).
He doesn't have to go through the painful attempts of meeting her as he is her guardian and can skip most steps that demanded for a chaperone to ensure that they never went too far (unless she wanted it and Arthur could never deny her if she wanted because she had been ever so loyal).
Everything falls apart.
He receives the signals he wants when he talks to her – her fan, fully open, waved quickly with her right hand close to her face. Surely she was in love with him to pull such a gesture but her advances stopped there as she never dropped her parasol, or put either the tip or handle to her lips once during their walks.
It was frustrating.
Their conversations were incredibly close and Arthur is unsure whether she tells him everything because of his position or whether she truly loves him.
He goes on a leap of faith and presents her with new gloves.
She wears it to church and Arthur swells in happiness because she wore them.
This happiness only lasts for a matter of seconds as she walks up to him and gleefully states, 'Thank you for the gloves. They really are nice.'
Arthur later wrings his daisies, white lilacs and white roses in a crumbled mess of petals and stalks. Innocence and naïvety are too much.
He waits a little more than a century to try again. Surely manners would change that would allow him to be more forward.
They do but instead of wooing the girl he likes, he ends up signing some blasted paper to acknowledge her complete independence.
He laughs it off and only after her new constitution is passed (she even had the audacity to have him pass one in French too), he returns to his normal life.
His heart has a heavy and dull sensation to it.
He had endured enough from his (now former) colony and carelessly prunes his treasured red rose bush to smithereens (and only later does he regret it when Madison frets over their state and looks at him all doe-like and teary).
Maybe Madison didn't want to be his but he was too stubborn to stop loving her.
He smashes his heart and hides the pieces in a box keeping it in a secret place that no one would ever find.
Years pass and he slowly acknowledges their familial relationship. He watches her from the shadows but has no heart to feel anything.
Yet more time passes and she's off doing her own thing. At one point he becomes desperate and showers her doorstep with flowers on the day of her birthday (it wasn't because she got tulips from a certain wanker).
Everything changes when Madison decides to visit for a week in his home in London.
Arthur remained a recluse in his study, only coming out for meals and personal necessities. Madison seemed fine with his behaviour, doing whatever she pleased.
On her last day though, she practically dragged the Englishman from his study and asked for a simple tour to which he replies no. Her reply was as simple as ever, she manhandled him into his coat, grabbed an umbrella and dragged him around town by his tie.
After five minutes of indignant blubbering, funny looks from oncoming strangers and the fact he looked downright ridiculous having to arch his back since she was still insistent on carrying him around in this matter, Arthur abruptly stopped their movements, retracting his back to proper position, and stared at his former charge.
"I can walk fine by myself so kindly release your grip on my tie. It'll wrinkle," he mumbled, a fine red blush settled nicely on the tips of his ears.
"Hmm, I'm not convinced in the slightest. For all I know, you'll turn back home and lock me out. Prove that you won't," she coolly replied while a smirk drew across her rosy lips.
A strange sensation engulfed the Briton as he snatched the hand that held his tie firm and interlocked his fingers with her own as their hands fell to their respective sides.
"Better?" His question, reasonable enough as it was, sounded harsh as it escaped his mouth.
"Ehhh," she drawled out in a rather whiney voice, "I'm not too sure. I was thinking of something else but this will have to do!" She giggled and before Arthur could voice his rebuttal, he was promptly forced to resume their little parade.
Arthur did not understand why the girl- no not a girl anymore- woman was so incessant on touring London when she knew the place just as well as he did.
Whatever tour they were having, it sure wasn't led by the Englishman himself as the Canadian decided to be a crafty minx and take a horribly packed double-decker. She knew the only mode of public transit he would use is the subway when feeling environmentally conscious or taxi when he wasn't.
But here they were shoved so close together on some packed bus filled with tourists. They had hit a snag earlier on the road and he had immediately wrapped his arms around her slender frame, holding her close. The intimacy of the action caused a foreign, no, nostalgic feeling as his heart slowly thrummed. A lighter one soon found itself in sync with the one caged within him.
After the third stop, her hands slowly found themselves encircling the Briton's midsection as she nuzzled her face in the crook of his neck. Arthur let out a muffled gasp that was drowned by the constant noise in the bus. A few onlookers whistled and his face, particularly his cheeks, seemed to burst into flames as they felt incredibly warmer by the second.
By what seemed to be a painfully long ride, they finally arrived at their first destination.
Arthur inwardly groaned as he looked at their stop- The London Eye. He couldn't help but be somewhat irritated by the thing since visiting nations would always beg him to treat them to the blasted thing. It was adorable when Madison and he would visit, but anyone else?
Never.
At least Madison was interesting to talk to and not gallivanting about the passenger capsule with a camera.
It's bloody awkward when they do that, especially since it's just them.
Arthur was jolted out of his thoughts as two small hands firmly held his calloused ones and tugged him along to jump the queue.
He was thankful that Madison had booked in advance as he did not want to hear the constant chime of Big Ben. The darn thing did have a wondrous talent of shattering his drowned-out thoughts.
Upon entering the gondola, Arthur inwardly sighed as he sat down on the wooden bench along with the Canadian. He quirked one of his massive brows as a champagne bottle with two glasses was set.
"It's a tad too early to be drinking, love," he sighed. Getting drunk now would not earn any merits and he would feel quite nauseous for the rest of the day. "And now isn't really the time for truffles either."
"Oh? I know...I...umm," she began to fidget as she slowly nibbled on her lip as her thumbs slowly twiddled.
It was downright adorable but Arthur kept that to himself.
"Uhh... well... you know that this is..."
The last few words were nothing more than a mumbled whisper.
"Can you repeat that? I can't hear you properly if you don't speak up," he quietly teased and recoiled slightly to prepare for an incoming blow that never came.
His forehead creased as stared at her.
She remained still for a few moments before her hand moved to grab her bag.
The only sound that could be heard was the rummaging of items and, for Arthur anyway, his painfully loud heart beating.
Finally grabbing what she wanted, she held out pristine gloves. They looked oddly familiar.
She extended her other hand and grabbed his own, placing the objects in his palm. She ran her thumbs over his fingers and began to speak.
"This really is a bad habit of yours."
She wasn't giving Arthur direct eye contact as her focus was diverged on the article.
"When it comes to everything else, you are quick to answer and state your views but when it comes to liking someone, you're a tad slow."
She let out an airy sigh.
"I thought gentlemen were to take the lead when waltzing. But here I am almost 200 years from that era leading you across town."
"Madison I-"
"Don't interrupt. I'm taking the lead today. I thought we already established that." Her mocking tone quickly became cheery as she continued, "You know if you were a bit blunt towards matters that concern love, I wouldn't feel so stupid for planning one-sided dates half the time."
"I-"
His reply was cut off as she continued, her lips forming a pout.
"But no. You had to be difficult and never even reworded your proposal! How was I supposed to know if you were making advances or not when you skipped and bushed around the lines of etiquette?"
"I'm sorry."
"It's fine. It really is. But...umm..." she quickly shook her head and took a deep breath.
"Arthur, I love you."
Shocked verdant eyes stared into deep mauve ones looking for any signs of malice or distrust.
"That's another bad habit of yours. You're too quick to judge."
"And yet you love me, the man claimed for being cynical and odd."
"Yeah."
"Why didn't you tell me sooner?"
"A lady isn't supposed to throw herself at a man and be blatant about her feelings. You should have been a bit more forward."
Arthur winced. The girl really knew what she was doing back then.
Madison shuffled over and rested her head on his shoulder. His head tilted towards her in response as he placed small kisses on the back of her hand.
"Madison?"
"Yes."
"I love you too."
And the Ferris wheel continued to turn slowly.
A/N: I love how I start psychotic but end with cheese puffs, corn and cotton candy. I can't even call this thing a drabble. You all must be disgusted with me but I'll just say good day to you.
Apparently you can book a 'Cupid's Capsule' and have a date between you and your lover on the London Eye. You get served Pommery Brut Royal Champagneand aluxury box of Charbonnel et Walker pink champagne truffles by the host.
Victorian era etiquette:
Fan wide open – love
Fan with right hand in front of face – come on
Fan slowly – I am independent
Dropping the parasol – I love you
Do you love me? – touch tip to lips
Kiss me – handle to lips
A gentleman would present his lover with gloves and if she wore it to church, it signified she accepted his marriage proposal.
Comments and criticism would be loved. I honestly want to know how I can get better so any piece of advice would be love.
I am going to start posting random drabbles that are too short to post here on my Tumblr account. I doubt they'll be any good but whatever. I'll link my account on my profile but you don't have to read it. Do as you see fit.
I will warn you that I'm an incredibly boring person. All blunt and cold if you say. Humour was never my forte...