Chapter VI~ How to deal with an obnoxious American and his Brit
Disclaimer~ I do not own Hetalia.
Oh fuck, fuck, fuck... I'm not ready for this. I winced in mental pain and that's when America decided to start the engine. I didn't mind driving in America's car since it was Ford's new Model T. Hm...one day, Feliciano and I are going to design a car that will outdo this model. Heh, faster too. Now, usually you'd naturally think Id be going home back to the heart of Italy where my heart lies. But nooo, I don't think America knows the meaning of privacy or even knows how to keep a secret. He might as well screamed the truth because he had to inform everyone that me and him are going to an amusement park.
*Flashback 5 minutes ago*
"ATTENTION ALL. I, America, and this little guy here..." He fucking patted my back. "Southern Italy are going to an unknown faraway amusement park that none of shall know of." I hunched over in the sheer agony and embarrassment of it all. Is he serious?
All the nations looked over at us in awe and wonder. As if I know what they're thinking about. This all sounds like one big motherfucking excuse for something top secret! I looked for Spain in crowd, only to find out that he's not amongst the groups of people I can visually see. America suddenly grabbed my scarf and pulled.
"America, do you really need to..." Me trying to control my words and choosing VERY carefully. Not cursing, painful.
"YES. Now, as I was saying dude. If anyone needs us, dont. See ya' later!" America said as he stormed off like lightening, grabbing me by scarf. Ugh... where are we going?
*Present*
Really, an amusement park?!
Of all places why would I want to go to a dingy, smelly amusement park?! Well I guess it wouldn't really matter since it was a lie. America doesn't know how to lie, much less how to stay quiet. If I ever plan to, remind me NEVER to rob a bank with America. That would be suicide for my wallet, let alone my dignity.
Now, with all the other nations including Spain at the dinner party, this was a perfect getaway. Hnnnn... maybe I should ask where exactly I'm going, since America's driving.
"Where are we going?" I asked once we were on the road.
"England." America grinned.
"What?" I asked sharply.
"England. London, England. It's awesome. Arty loves visitors and tourists to see Big Ben, the HUGE clock tower that was just built in the name of their queen. Hah, he says its better than the Eiffel Tower France has but I-" America rambled on and on about as I was at my wit's end with everyone in the fucking world.
"America! I don't want to go to fucking England! I thought you meant we'd all meet up at a old, hidden bar somewhere!"
"In England, they call those pubs."
"Why are we going to England?! We could've just spoke at the conference! That bastard was back there! Go back!" I screeched, flailing my arms at the brawns vs. brains jerk steering the wheel.
"Dude, calm down! England left already to home right before we left. Hes probably there by now."
"Then why-?!"
"You said you wanted privacy right?" He asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Yeah?"
"Well won't it be a bit suspicious if you leave in England's car? That guy you like...er..."
"Spain!"
"Yeah him! Won't he be worried if you left with England?" America explained, looking at me expectantly.
...
O-OhhFor once America's making sense.
Wait a minute...
Fuck.
No.
How could I forget?
I FUCKING FORGOT TO TELL SPAIN I WAS LEAVING WITH AMERICA!
Dammit, of all days I had to be stupid, why today?! H-he won't worry, will he? I mean... its not like we live or go home together. Fuck, but I can't shake the feeling that I want to! Ugh...not tonight. Usually after conferences, we'd go to dinner or something. Usually during those dinners, he'd order something with tomatoes. And if he dares order for me, I'd yell at him. But who can complain when there's tomatoes! Well, it's not like matters anyway, I always end up complaining if its not top-notch Italian cuisine. Then, that bastard would go all sweet on me, and try all his being to make me blush.
Last time, I could've sworn he spilled wine on my clothes just so he could clean it up himself. Dammit, I should've said something before I left. Hopefully, America loud announcement was heard by him. But... I can't shake the feeling I'm making a big mistake.
"So, if we're going to England, why can't Britain and I just talk in a local cafe or something?" Why do I have to be miles away from home?
America flinched. "Dude! What if Spain sees you and Arty in a local cafe? We'd be in deep shit! And he'd bring that medieval axe of his again! Besides he'd never go to Arty's house." True. Needless to say, Spain carries around an axe whenever he senses danger. Which is you ask me is fucking insane! What do I have to argue against that? I shuddered at the thought of Spain catching me at a cafe with Britain. Spain's jealousy and anger comes off very bold when it comes to his enemies.
Only hours later did I realize that we were following a car. A dingy, bland, old car and that fucking car's driver was none other than...
"Britain! There he is! You said he was at home, you bastard!" I yelled, jumping from my seat, hitting my head on the roof of the car, and pointing an alarming finger at the back of the Brit's head.
"Romano dude! Sit down! What if someone sees you!"
"Why the fuck are we following Britain?!" I growled.
America laughed weakly and nervously.
"We are? Oh what a coincidence! I didn't know-"
"THAT'S FUCKING BULLSHIT! WE'VE BEEN FOLLOWING THAT CAR SINCE WE LEFT AND YOU KNOW IT!" I screamed, proceeding to choke America as he accidentally turned the wheel and stepped on the gas. The smell and sound of screeching and burning tires roamed and caught the attention of the bystanders. As we exceeded Britain's car and halted abruptly, which created a domino effect of Britain's car stopping and many others. Ooh, they sounded their horns and started yelling. Where is my middle finger? Damn it, busy choking the life out of America.
Britain was the first to unbuckle his seat belt and fast walk towards us. I must say, I'm impressed that his intimidating walk made America flinch again even if Britain at least a head smaller than his lover. He knocked on the roof of the car as we both looked out and saw the most disturbing sight two children could see.
A grouchy Brit who looked as if he were about to spank the ill-tempered child here. *coughs* America. *coughs* Not me. *coughs* You could see the fear in the Americans eyes. Hm... this road trip isn't as unpleasant as I thought it would be.
~.Oo0oO.~
"Hey! Why are they towing my car?!" America whined, watching his car being towed away desperately. Britain sighed, very annoyed at the moment.
" You wankers created a bloody mess of things here. And more importantly, why are you following me?!" He asked in outrage and anger. I better explain...
"Because I wanted to go to your house!" What? "You didn't even explain why you'd ban me anyways!" America boasted before I could. I watched in awe and horror, coming to my senses. This wasn't for me, I was excuse for America. I should've he wouldn't have done it out of the kindness of heart. Wow. I was not expecting that.
"America! For the last time, I told why already! If we went home together, everyone at the conference would think we're... that we're..." He shied away from the last few words, as a tiny blush rose upon the Brit's face.
"What? That we're dating? Dude, everyone knows that! Even the Southern Half of Italy knows that."
Why does everyone fucking call me that!?
Even if it is true, I still consider myself fairly human. America turned to me for confirmation of my knowledge so, I just shrugged and nodded. Everyone knew of their relationship anyway. "See!" America proved in eager.
"Alfred, that is not the point! W-we can't even afford to spend weekends together. Didn't you listen to our meeting? The issue is only getting worse, and the one thing you're worried about is our relationship?! That's absurd! Ridiculous!"
Hnnn... this is part where I try my hardest to remember what was spoken (or screamed) about at the meeting. I missed half of it due to a distraction called Spain. The other half... I may or may not have fallen asleep. Italy could fill me in on how it went on later. I wasn't too crazy about listening to this conversation either.
In the end, we all bunked up in Britain's car all the way to England which was so fuckin uncomfortable. But I guess it wasn't that bad considering Britain made America sit in the back and I got shotgun. Heh... actually it was funny seeing the American pout for a change. On another note: Britain wasn't as bad as my imaginative mind made him out to be. I don't know why Veneziano and I were ever afraid of the old guy, in some ways he reminded me of...well...me.
Ignore that last statement!
I'm not sure why Spain would hold a grudge against him anyway. Or maybe I'm letting me riding shotgun deter my thoughts cause let me tell you it made me so fucking happy to not sit in the back.
"Now, one of you wankers tell what the bloody hell happened?" Britain asked, and considering he was glaring at America through the side mirror, I decided to kindly let him explain.
"Wait... Arthur, your driving the wrong way! Your house is that away!" He yelled, pointing in the opposite direction.
"And how is he supposed to go home then?" Britain replied, referring and pointing to me. Now, I feel like a nuisance. Ugh... this is America's fucking fault! He's using me as a excuse to go to Britain's house, dammit! How am I supposed to go home then?!
"He can take the bus!"
"FUCK NO! YOU THINK YOU CAN USE ME TO YOUR ADVANTAGE AND STILL EXPECT ME TO TAKE THE FUCKING BUS!?" I felt a rant surge within me. I turned to face him.
"Arty! He's yelling at me! Tell him to stop!" He whined.
"No, thank you. I think you deserve this one."
"What?!"
Then I started yelling at him in my native language: Italian. And if you didn't know better, you'd better be fucking scared because when your parents start yelling at you in their first language, you know shit just got real.
After that was done, I ended up having too much of a sore throat to yell and decided to calm down and America started explaining to England why I was here. England stared at me like I was a madman and said no. Screw it if I was going to leave after all the shit Alfred just put me through!
"Romano, It's not my place to say." Britain said. And just like that I lost all newfound respect I had for the guy. "You should ask ...er...him." He cringed as he referred to Spain. I glared at America, who chuckled nervously back.
"Aw, come on Arty!"
"I told you not to call me that!"
"Only if you tell Southern Italy the truth." He persuaded. Britain sighed deeply frustrated and look back at me annoyed.
"Very well, but note that my version of the truth might me different than that wanker's. Understood?"
I nodded in approval, awaiting curiously for him to explain in detail of what Spain was trying to hide from me exactly. Britain bit his lip and looked conflicted. Leaving us with a moment of silence. Oh but don't worry! By no means was it an awkward silence, it was more like an irritating silence. Hm... maybe he's waiting for something, seems like it. Perhaps he's waiting for a confirmation or approval. He is known to a gentlemen (towards woman).
"You can fucking begin now." I ordered solemnly, glaring at the Brit. Who then dared to glare right back at me.
"Tsk, You better watch your potty mouth mister, hasn't he ever taught you manners? Seems not." He said as if I were child.
"You shouldn't be even talking since you raised this, bastard!" I yelled pointing to the American shoving chocolate bars down his throat. Was that a chocolate smudge on his cheek? Britain blushed, looking at America becoming more flustered before looking down. Recollecting himself from spatting another insult at me.
"Yes, seeing how that is. America..." He turned to him, blushing uncontrollably. Oh dammit, this is embarrassing to watch. America looked back at him in awe. "Would you please leave the room as I speak to Romano."
"Why? I know all of this already." He said, gulping the last of his candy.
"Yes, however I'm afraid I haven't told you the entire story. You don't need to know this, but Romano does. So, here." He gave America what seemed like a lifetimes worth of pounds, and looked at him expectantly to leave. I must say, the way America looked at the moment was pure astonishment. I scoffed, since now I didn't feel so bad that I didn't know shit.
"BUT ARTHUR-!" He cried.
"That's enough out of you. A-and lower your voice, you wanker!" England replied.
"NO. That's unfair! You have to tell me, I'm your lover!" He yelled once more. Some neighboring cars looked sideways towards us. Oh fuck, did they think I said that!? Dammit, why did I have to sit shotgun!
"SHHH!" Britain and I hushed in unison. Britain's blush grew, why does this seem familiar?
"Y-you bloody wanker! If you don't listen to what I say, then you cannot stay over at my manor anymore!" He threatened, this threat worked wonders I tell you. America got what he wanted right? He stuttered and looked immensely confused. It took two whole minutes for him to reply.
...
"Fine." America said resolutely and serious. It was so out-of-character that Britain had shaken a bit to the tone, and I turned back to see a brooding America. No, not annoying for once. It was actually frightening. I gulped and faced first. It's not smart to have a superpower like America mad. Britain drove in silence for a little while then abruptly parked in front of a hotel. Thank god, it's not me going in there.
"I'll come and pick you up in two hours after I drop Romano here home." He stated, as America rudely exited the car, ignoring his lover as well. Why do I have a feeling that this was my fault here? Britain seemed upset and guilty as well. "T-this could've been easily avoided if you-"
"I know." He said angrily, seething through his teeth. I knew what is was like if I were in his shoes. To not have the only person you ever loved not trust you... yeah that's aggravating, especially if they're not comfortable explaining. I thought back to Spain who tried everything in his power to avoid the subject I was so keen on understanding. I need to know Spain's past as to what kind of man was he. You can't blame me for trying.
Although, I had a sick feeling in my stomach America was going to call me later to spill the beans. Details and no less. I have to figure out a lie or a plan soon then. Even if I knew America didn't have my personal cell phone number, I knew he'd find out sooner or later. After Britain got back onto the road, he sighed in relief. At least he wasn't stalling anymore.
"I have only one condition." He said, breaking the dead silence. "Do not tell Alfred a word of what I am going to tell you."
"I was going to lie anyways." I scowled. Like I was that stupid.
"Good." He replied. "Now then, since you came all this way. I might as well tell you. But note that you are not going to like what you hear. Is that clear?" He warned. I nodded, knowing anything Spain had to hide wasn't good news.
If anything, deep down I really, really, really hoped it wasn't bad news either.
((A/N~ I think Romano and America make very good friends. England... not so much. Reveiw~! Lots of love. Ciao~! Constructional Criticism and Suggestions are always welcome! ~Annabelle ))