I am back, as promised, within a week. I hope y'all like this chapter! I don't really have any questions to respond to this time around.

Thank you, all of you, for your support of this story. You guys are the ones that keep me writing. So thank you for your compliments! c:

Enjoy!

Disclaimer: I don't own the Hetalia Franchise.

A Yes and a Regret

"The test of whether or not you can hold a job should not be in the arrangement of your chromosomes."

―Bella Abzula

Elizaveta, though she'd hate to admit it, was slowly warming up to Gilbert. As the weeks progressed in the school year, leading into the colder, autumn days of October, she was even beginning to look forward to her mornings. She could always count on Gilbert being there, with a smile on his face, and some useless thing to tell her. He was making more of a conscious effort to win her over than she'd thought he would, that was for sure. He would generally carry her things, and walk with her to her class, and get lunch for her, and save her seats. He was being, quite literally, a perfect gentleman. And it was this change in attitude that made her nervous, because all good things must come to an end. This easy comfort with each other couldn't possibly last for very long. And she'd never hated being right more than she did after her letter was released by Francis in the school newspaper.

She fiercely fought off the huge dive her heart took when she saw that her white-haired Alpha wasn't waiting for her at the doors to the school. She had to continue to fight this sinking feeling as she went through the day with no sight of him, other than seeing his falsely angelic head hidden in a group of friends, or catching a flash of those red eyes glancing her way in the hallways. But other than that, there was nothing else. No contact, no words. He was angry with her, but he wasn't doing what she'd expected him to. He wasn't being confrontational, he was being sulky, and containing his vexation; and she didn't doubt that he was crossed. No, he was much too traditional to not be furious.

When the end of the day rolled around and she was closing her locker after putting her stuff up, she was greeted with the startling appearance of the one boy she'd been stuck thinking about the entire day; Gilbert. He was leaning against the locker next to hers, hidden by the open door. When she closed hers, he was there, gazing at her with a solemn remoteness. She swallowed, a tingle stretching down her body and into her toes. Things were not going to go well, though for which one of them, she could not tell.

"Elizaveta," said Gilbert, not using her nickname. That stung.

"Gilbert," she responded, choosing to acknowledge him with the same kind of detachment he was treating her.

"Would you like to join me for a walk?" he asked her, still being a gentleman, though this extent of it was giving her the creeps. Something was up.

"I suppose I have nothing better to do," she muttered, accepting his proffered arm as they began walking. She was wearing a long dress today, gold and white stripes running diagonally from right shoulder to left hip, and then on the skirt, a white color with black and gray flowers dotting the surface. It was unconventional, different, and it suited her perfectly. Gilbert, however, was wearing some casual khaki shorts and a blood-red shirt, matching the color of his eyes. It made his skin look paler.

As they walked in silence, Elizaveta began to wonder if posting her opinion like that was perhaps a bit too rash. She shouldn't have done something so out there, so spontaneous and different. Omegas were avoiding her like the plague, scared of approaching such a radical. Alphas were giving her dirty looks. It seemed that the only friend she had left was Gilbert, and she wasn't even sure if she could count him as a friend anymore.

"Why did you do it?" he asked her, staring straight ahead, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down in a nervous swallow. He was different from the regular, enthusiastic, energetic, full-of-himself Gil. This one was serious, down to earth, business-y. She wasn't sure how to approach this side of him.

"It was the right thing to do," she said, obstinate and unwilling to admit that she may have introduced a concept to a bunch of high schoolers that was above the majority of their heads. Not even regular society would take her ideas in a correct way, much less a thoroughly segregated high school.

"I don't think it was, Engel," responded Gilbert, not even realizing that he'd used his pet name for her. It warmed her heart that he was so used to calling her Angel, it just fell off his tongue without a second thought.

"And what would you know, oh great and mighty Alpha?" she responded, sarcastic in her insecurity. She should have built her audience and followers up before doing something like that letter, given them something to fight for, and some courage. But who was she kidding? She could barely control herself around Gilbert, and she wasn't even his mate. Courage be damned when it came to Alphas, they had an unfair amount of control over their Omega counterparts.

"What would I know?" said Gilbert, finally turning to look at her, bringing them both to a stop. "What would I know? I will tell you what I know, Dummkopf, and that is that you do not go changing the natural order of things," he snapped, his voice rising. It was clear that whatever careful control he'd maintained over himself was slowly slipping.

"Sometimes the 'natural order of things' isn't' so natural, Gilbert! Why don't you understand that we are meant to be equal, all of us, Alphas, Betas, Omegas, everyone!" she was exasperated, and at a loss as to what to do. How was she supposed to convince this boy who had been raised with only one belief, only one mindset, of something different? She almost felt sorry for him, if he wasn't such a presumptuous bastard.

Gilbert's face flew through a variety of emotions, the few she was able to identify were righteous indignation, frustration, and confusion. "What else am I supposed to think, Eliza? This is how things have been, this is how things should always be. Omegas are happy, Alphas are happy, Betas are happy. Don't mess with the perfect system that we have going," he nearly begged her, surprising her with his desperation.

When she didn't respond to him, just kept that same inflexible, set to her jaw, he seemed to snap, gripping her forearms in an almost too tight hold. "Why aren't you listening to me?" he hissed through gritted teeth, shaking her slightly. "Verdammt, woman, you drive me insane," he muttered, dropping his head so that it fell to her shoulder. She was confused, wondering what on Earth was going on with Gilbert. Was he okay? Did she break him?

"Be mine," he muttered suddenly, randomly against her dress, making her heart quicken. She'd ached to hear those words, but at the same time, they went against what she believed in. She didn't want to be his property. She wanted to be his equal, his mate, but not his. No, never just his. Her life belonged to herself and herself only, not the next Alpha to step into it. She wasn't a piece of furniture to own, she was a human being as well.

"Gilbert, I-" she broke off, her voice catching, "what are you doing? Why are you being like this? What has gotten into you?" she finally spilled out, working valiantly to push him off of her, not an easy task.

"You know that I want you as my mate, Elizaveta," said Gilbert, using every bit of pleading that he could eek out of himself to smile forlornly up at her. He could only hope that his ploy worked. "I want you to be my mate, to be mine. You are beautiful, and talented, and so many things that I am not. I need you." It wasn't like these words were lies, every letter of them was true. But, he had an ultimate goal for getting her to admit that she would be his, his mate. If he could get her to agree to him, then he could show the Omega population of the school that they were still very much beneath their Alpha mates. It was a nasty trick, but he felt it had to be done. Rebellion of this nature would not, could not stand.

Elizaveta was torn, it was quite obvious in the worrying of her bottom lip between her teeth, and the flicking of her eyes. She didn't know what to do, agree to be his, or disagree on principle of her beliefs?

After a long enough moment of hesitation, Gil decided that he should probably urge things along. He did need to get home sometime soon, or his parents would get huffy. And besides, Ludwig and Feliciano were at his house. He had to make sure nothing got broken. So, he stepped closer to her, collecting one of her tanner hands in the grip of one of his pale ones, and raised it to his lips, kissing the back before flipping her hand to press individual kisses on the pads of her fingertips and on the veined, crinkled palm of her hand. He could hear her slight inhalation of breath, and his lips kicked into an honest smile, curving on her skin. He was more than happy that he had this effect on her.

"Gil…" she said finally, prompting him to look up at her, his eyes a torch of hope. "I can't…" she stopped, turmoil clouding her eyes. "Yes. Fine, igen. I'll be yours. But you still have a lot more work to do. I will not let you mark me yet." She said, immediately reverting back to a high-and-mighty attitude as she saw the victorious grin spread across his face.

"Of course, but first, I want to do something that I have been dying to do for ages," he said, perplexing her for a minute before she found that she was once more pressed against him, her hips brushing lightly against his, their torsos grazing each other through the clothes that each was wearing. Her breath rose and caught as one callused hand rose to brush along the side of her face, tracing down the length of her jaw before a thumb circled back up and over her chin to press lightly against her semi-parted lips. Gilbert was intense in his study, in his touching and mapping. He had waited to do this, for much, much, much too long. Finally, after he felt that the tension was enough, he dipped his head and kissed her.

It was soft, gentle, and adoring; and it was everything that Elizaveta had wanted out of her first kiss. She was scared at first, the feeling of his lips on hers strange and foreign, but she soon got over it, reacting off of instinct as he pressed her tighter to him, their bodies meshing. Her hands found their way up to the broad planes of his shoulders, and then around to cup and link together behind his neck. His hands had settled firmly on her hips, messing along the waist line of her dress. She smiled against his lips, knowing that he was probably cursing her for not wearing a shirt and skirt or pants today.

When they finally parted, it was with flushed, pleased faces and shy smiles. Gilbert was proud, that much was obvious, and content. Elizaveta was surprised, pleased, and excited. This was a new step into something big, she was sure. She pushed her thoughts about equal rights aside, forcing herself to just enjoy this sweet moment for what it was worth.

After a couple more exchanged kisses, Gilbert took her back home, bowing politely at her father as she opened the door, before disappearing off to his own house. Elizaveta could feel her mother's suspicious gaze, those Omega eyes not missing a thing, as detail-prone as they were.

"Elizaveta," said Aranka, her mother, "why on Earth are you smiling so much, drágám?" she was wearing a gentle, neutral smile. Elizaveta hated it when she wore that smile, it always made her so difficult to read.

"I accepted Gil today," she said, after making sure that her father, Etel, was out of the room. She didn't think that she would take it that well. Not so soon anyway.

"Mi?!" Hungarian, rapid and cropped, began to stream out of her mother's mouth as she hugged her precious Omega daughter to herself, laughing and petting and kissing both of her little girl's cheeks. "Oh, I am so proud of you, honey, an Alpha mate for you!" she called, completely un-Omega like in her obvious, loud exuberance. But, Elizaveta knew that her father wouldn't have her mother any other way.

The chestnut-haired, ivy-eyed Hungarian girl was blushing up a storm at her mother's excitement. It really wasn't that big of a deal, not in her opinion anyway. "And I published that letter I wrote about Omega's rights," she found herself saying, before her eyes widened and regret washed through her stance. The happy laughter and joy bubbling out of her mother immediately drowned, leaving nothing but a serious expression in their wake.

"You did what?" she said slowly, her voice making a surprising shift to a quiet, covert whisper. "I'm going to have to get your father, aren't I? Elizaveta, we talked about this! You cannot make such large jumps in places. That is not how these things work." She was scolding, harsh, but necessarily so. Her daughter was going to get herself killed, and mateless, if she kept along this downward slope.

"But Anya, it's not fair!" she complained loudly, only to receive a harsh cuff around her ear in response.

"Etel!" called Aranka, her troubled eyes roaming over her pretty, stubborn daughter. "Etel, come here!" she called again after a minute or two of no reaction.

The female alpha marched into the room, a look of disgruntled impatience garnishing her face. "Istenem, what is it?" she snapped, looking around the room. Her agitation quickly melted, however, at the sober expressions of her daughter and mate. "What has happened?"

"Your daughter got the letter she wrote published in the paper," said Aranka in response, her eyes cutting submissively to the floor. She knew that Etel was about to get very angry, very fast, and she didn't want to challenge an Alpha when they were particularly incensed.

"You did what?" said Etel, turning to her daughter with gritted teeth and hazel eyes that held a seething pit of disappointment, anger, and frustration.

"Elizaveta! We explicitly told you not to do such a thing! I thought I raised a good Omega, one that can defend herself, but knows when to be deferential," she was being rather tyrannical, she would own that, but she had to. She was the Alpha of this household, and her Omega daughter was not listening to her. "You could get this family killed, Eliza. What were you thinking, you stupid, stupid girl," she hissed, now beginning to pace. "I'll have to see what I can do with the school to smooth any ruffled feathers over. I can't help you with your friends, though I'd be surprised if you had any after this fiasco," she sent her a quick, disapproving glare, interrupting the younger Hungarian girl as Elizaveta tried to interrupt and defend herself.

At Elizaveta's broken, shame-filled expression, she softened. "Drágám, I know you meant well. I know that you are trying to make a difference in the world, but you can't. You are an Omega. I don't want you to be a demure, boring little thing, but you can't change this world. You just can't." She shooed her off. "Now, get up to your room. Your mother will bring dinner up to you. Oh, and I'll be having your phone," she held out an expectant hand, waiting until her reluctant teenage daughter plopped the heavy metal rectangle in her anticipatory palm.

Once her daughter had disappeared up the stairs, the dark-skinned, female Alpha turned to her mate, tugging Aranka into he arms. "I don't know what to do with her," she mumbled, pressing her nose into her mate's hair to help calm herself down back to the earlier, neutral levels. Aranka's caramel arms wound around her mate's torso as she pushed her face into her shoulder.

"She'll learn. Our girl is special, Etel. She's going to have to learn how to blend in. Oh, and she decided to accept Gilbert as her mate," she said suddenly, saying the last sentence as quickly as possible so as to get that particular piece of information out-of-the-way. Etel froze before sighing and finally releasing Aranka.

"I suppose that calls for two family dinners, doesn't it? One with his parents, and one with us. I wonder how the Beilschmidt's are reacting to our little girl's letter. Not very well, I bet." Aranka's chuckle was the only answer she got to that, before her mate returned to the dinner that she was preparing, and Etel, after dropping a kiss to her mate's lips, returned to her office.

When Gilbert got home, things were a little similar, and a little different. His father was pissed, as he seemed to always be these days, and his mother was worriedly wringing her hands together, her icy blue eyes gazing with a great deal of concern at her puffing mate.

"The insolence of it all! Gilbert, you still want to pursue this Omega?" snapped the tall German, his long yellow hair tied back in a ponytail that slid down his muscled back. Gilbert nodded his head slowly. "The nerve…" and with that, Alfher had slipped into German. Gilbert chose not to stick around for that, preferring instead to go up to his room.

When he passed Ludwig and Feliciano's bedroom, the room they would be residing in until they moved into their own apartment or house, he was greeted with the awkward sight of watching Feliciano drawing a sleeping Ludwig. He paused there, loitering in the doorway, watching the lines and shapes spiraling out on the paper that Feliciano was using. No doubt the boy would transfer it to some pretentious tapestry, paint it, and then have it framed for their future home. But it was a nice looking drawing, all the same, not even Gilbert could deny that.

Feliciano had been growing on him the past few weeks, brightening up the generally dour, intense atmosphere of the Beilschmidt home. Yes, there were times when Gilbert wanted to punt the Italian right back on over to the Vargas household, but he was getting more tolerable. His drawing skills were phenomenal, and secretly Gilbert hoped that Feliciano would draw him one day before he left with Ludwig to his new life. But he was much too macho to ever specifically ask for a portrait, so he eventually moved on to his room, collapsing on his bed, and flipping onto his back.

He'd tell his father about Elizaveta when the man cooled down. It would be a bad idea to bring anything up now. But he was itching to tell someone. He couldn't tell Ludwig because A) The boy was asleep, and B) He would tell Feliciano, who would be unable to keep his blathering mouth closed and would consequently tell the entire school. His friends were out of commission until the following Monday, as his phone was still father's possession. Apparently the training room debacle wouldn't be forgotten very easily. But at least now, he'd quelled a bit of that crazy Omega rights side of Eliza. He'd gotten her to agree to being his. It was a start of a very long journey, but he was sure he could win this war.

Both the Hungarian and the German, but secretly believing himself to be Prussian, boy went to bed that night with full bellies and aching hearts. They wanted to see each other, and they wanted to go back and change things they'd done in their past. But there is a reason that people say you must look towards the future, because if you're not careful, the past will repeat itself.

Hey, so what did we think? Leave a review, if you like doing that. If you don't, then that's totally cool too. I'm generality too chicken to leave reviews too, so I have no right to judge any of y'all who prefer to read and smile and laugh in your own world. xD

I hope all of y'all enjoyed! The next chapter will be up in a week.