And my last update for a week or so! Yay! xD

I hope y'all enjoy this chapter, I really had no clue where I was going with this.

BlackWitchesCat- Thank you so much for bringing that to my attention. What you caught actually helped me form a bit of a plot for this chapter, so thank you. You made a fabulous point. :3

vellymymare- Aw, yay! I'm glad that I was a good introduction into the AU of Omegaverse. There are some really awesome ones out there, you should definitely look for them.

Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia. *gasp*

Open Eyes

"There is never a time or place for true love. It happens accidentally, in a heartbeat, in a single flashing, throbbing moment."

―Sarah Dessen, The Truth About Forever

The days ticked down for the Halloween dance.

For Gilbert, each day was practically a century. In part, because his father was not in the slightest pleased with the fact that he'd compromised with his Omega, he'd been regrounded as punishment, and a bit because it looked like he might be forced to end his engagement with Elizaveta, and finally because he was really excited for the dance.

Walking into school the day after the Beilschmidt dinner, he pulled Elizaveta aside. This was something he really didn't want to do, but having been chewed out by his dad on it, he didn't have a choice. "Eliza," he said, his voice that ever-existent gravel, "I will decide how many children we have." She opened her mouth to argue, but he growled warningly. "Don't fight me on this." He snapped, watching the flash of fear and then hurt spark in her eyes. Guilt ate at him, and he eventually stormed away, a mess of confusion. Why did he care, now, what she thought? There was a time when what Omegas considered to be right and wrong didn't affect Gil in the slightest. There was a time when he knew for a fact that he was going to be the only one making big decisions in his family lifestyle.

And then he'd found Eliza, and his point of view perhaps changed.

Needless to say, she was pissed after that. She didn't want to talk to Gilbert the rest of the day, even going so far to press his buttons by sitting next to Roderich. Gil was pretty sure he'd never wanted to kill a Beta more than he did during that lunch period; watching Eliza laugh and place her hand on the other boy's upper arm. Seeing her giggle and run her fingers through his hair.

Gilbert was so busy seething that he didn't notice his friends exchange glances and scooch slightly away from him. He barely discerned the mark adorning Lovino's neck, with Antonio the proud Alpha next to him. He didn't see Francis doting after Matthew like he was the Omega in the relationship. He was conscious of none of this because his Omega was busy flirting with some stupid Beta. A stupid Beta with a bit of a snobby attitude.

Only Alphas were really allowed to flirt with other Omegas or Betas around their mates. It was forgivable because they are Alphas and it's not like they can control themselves. It's not their fault that they can't ignore the next attractive Omega to catch their eye. However if an Omega flirts with another Alpha while he or she is mated to a living one, than there will be hell to pay, both for the Omega and for the Alpha or Beta that he or she is flirting with.

Elizaveta had wormed herself into that situation, and their future was very possibly in jeopardy.

When Gilbert arrived home from school, Alfher could immediately tell that something was wrong with his son. He could smell it steaming off of the boy's skin. "Gilbert," he said, calling the white-haired Alpha into his office, "what happened at school today?"

Gil threw himself into the chair in front of his father's desk. "Elizaveta, actually," he groaned. Alfher waited patiently for his slightly egotistical and dramatic son to continue. "She was flirting with Roderich right in front of me the entire day, father. That's all she did, and all because I told her that I would be making decisions for our future from here on out." He griped.

A thrumming of fingers along the solid wood of the desk echoed through the quieter space. It was a dangerous sound, like a clock ticking. Alfher was displeased.

"Well, that's something we shall certainly have to take up with her parents, isn't it? If she isn't willing to respect your control of her as her Alpha, than we will simply have to find you a new Omega. And we will be sure to spread about that Miss Elizaveta Hédérvary is not a suitable or proper Omega for any Alpha."

Gilbert was alarmed, and he tried to protest his father's plan but was silenced by a raised palm. "Gilbert, don't question me on this. I understand what kind of Omegas we will accept into this family. Elizaveta will not be one of them if she doesn't shape up."

Gilbert hesitated. "Vater, let me talk to her parents." He spoke up, holding his breath as the man cast his gaze judgementally up and down his son's body. "I can handle them. I know them. I know how her father thinks. I was the one who arranged this thing, I need to be the one to call the shots. I need to assert myself, ich bin ein Preuße." His father scoffed at Gilbert's last sentence, but it was undeniable that he saw the logic in his son's calculations. It would make a lot more sense if Gilbert talked to Eliza's father than if he did.

"Very well," Alfher said at last. "But if you don't handle this efficiently, than I will be forced to step in."

Gilbert swallowed and nodded his head before turning and leaving, maintaining a straight back and an upright profile the entire time. The hardest part of this ordeal would be speaking to Eliza's father.

Snatching out of his front door with a coat hung in the crook of his arm, Gil began his walk over to Elizaveta's house. He ran through what exactly to say as he crossed streets and bounced on his toes at stop lights, waiting for them to turn red so that he could cross safely. He put the coat on somewhere along the way, the collar moving up to touch his ear lobes as he pulled his shoulders in on himself. He wasn't feeling like this was the best idea, but there was no other option. As a fellow Alpha, hopefully Eliza's father would respect that. Etel shouldn't have too many qualms with his demands.

He took a deep breath before using the door knocker to rap twice on the boring brown door in front of him. A minute passed before the door was pulled open.

But instead of Aranka or Etel answering the door, it was Eliza.

Gil's heart hit the floor.

"Ah, hallo." He said, German slipping through his voice like water. He was nervous, and didn't really know what else to say.

"Helló," said Eliza, giving him a strange look. Gil swallowed, a nervous smile on his face. Then Etel appeared behind her daughter, pressing a kiss to the top of Eliza's hair and shooing her up the stairs. "He can't see you this way," she hissed warningly after the girl, indicating to Eliza's not-so-covering pajamas.

Once Elizaveta had been forced from the picture, Gilbert was made to look at Etel. And the Alpha seemed to know that the Prussian was here for some serious conversation. "Into my office, then," she sighed wearily, gesturing for Gil to lead the way.

Gilbert did, walking into the room he'd been in a couple of months ago and taking a comfortable place in the chair. Etel sat on the other side of the desk, her fingers crossed to form a basket for her to rest her chin on.

"Why are you here, Gilbert?"

"Elizaveta, actually." Said Gilbert, getting straight to the point. "She isn't acting how an Omega should. For instance, she was flirting with a Beta at lunch today, well aware that I could see her actions."

Etel didn't give an obvious reaction to this piece of news. "What did you do to call for this revenge?"

Affronted, Gilbert didn't respond immediately, casting his eyes to a dark corner of the room to find something of distraction. "I told her that I would be making the decisions in our relationship." He finally said, not understanding why he was so ashamed. It was perfectly normal, custom even, for an Alpha to do that. He turned those hellfire eyes to meet Etel's cool brown ones.

"Perhaps she decided that she wants more respect than that." The female alpha shrugged, taking a sip from a glass of brandy that was sitting on her desk.

Gilbert's eyes narrowed. "That's not an Omega's place, and we both know that. Mein Vader will not accept her into my family if she doesn't shape up."

Etel's eyes flashed a hard amber. "Than perhaps you should start searching elsewhere, for my daughter will not change just to fit into an overly conservative family such as yours. She is perfect, and if you cannot accept that, than you'd best move on."

Silence.

"I can't."

Etel felt a small smile. "Than maybe you should think about who is more important to you; Eliza, or your family." Gilbert watched her a moment before Etel made a gesture. "Go up and check Liz. I'm sure she's dying to see you, and you both have some explaining to do."

Standing and giving a slight bow before exiting the room, Gilbert was left with a dilemma. He loved his family, dearly so; Ludwig was his brother and one of his best friends; Feliciano was growing on him, a splash of color in an otherwise bland life; his father, though he was harsh, would fight for him any day of the week; his mother adored him, and pride was always loud in her eyes when she looked upon her eldest.

Could he leave them?

It took a bit to get up the stairs, and when he reached Elizaveta's door, he raised a hesitant fist and knocked. She pulled it open, much as she had done the front door, and seemed to read into his soul the minute her eyes landed on his.

When he leaned forward, she was there to wrap her arms around him, partially supporting his weight. When he buried his face into her shoulder, she was murmuring words of love and comfort into his ears, her fingers carding through the hair decorating the back of his head. When his shoulders started to shake, she was pressing a kiss to his cheek and pulling his head so that she could rub the tears away with the pads of her thumbs.

And that was when Gilbert realized that a relationship worked both ways. One had to lean on the other for support. Without the other to help, the love wasn't there; affection didn't exist; there was no respect. That was why he'd never seen or heard his parents doting on one another. He'd always just assumed that they were more sheltered with their affection, but maybe it wasn't that at all; maybe it was because the love wasn't there in the first place.

Slowly, they both sunk to the floor in the doorway of Eliza's room, the Hungarian girl's arms still wrapped securely about Gilbert, warding off the coming demons.

She was crying now, her thinner shoulders shaking in time with his, her legs bent beneath her, but his hands were soon pulling her into his lap, his arms wrapping securely about her; like a blanket. To keep away the monsters, but knowing that he couldn't keep away all of them, because that would mean that he'd need to keep himself away.

They were both sorry, that could be read into angles of shoulders and tenderness of touches. Fingers flitted over wet cheeks, lips danced across quivering lips. They were rediscovering each other; hopping into a new relationship together with faith that neither would let the other fall.

Gilbert fell asleep at Eliza's house that night. They were both resting on her bed, with his future mate curled into his embrace. Their faces were close together, his feet stretching out past hers on the bed. He watched her as she slept; creepy, though it may sound, but reassuring to himself. She was safe. She was his. He was hers. They were each others. A smile came across his face, one that had never been seen adorning the awesome Gilbert's lips. It was one of complete and utter adoration. He would walk to the ends of the earth for this Omega, and back again.

Yet even as he ran his fingers over the strands of Elizaveta's hair that stretched out over the mattress of the bed, Gilbert knew that this wasn't permanent. He couldn't just leave his family like that. He'd have hell to pay when he got back home-he was still grounded after all-but he didn't know what to do. He'd have to talk to his father, see if he could change the man's mentality towards Gilbert's treasured Eliza. If not, his life was about to get a whole lot more difficult, because he wasn't considered an adult yet. He was only sixteen. On January 18, he would celebrate his seventeenth, and then finally, a year later, he would become an adult with his eighteenth. But until then, he was his father's ward; his father's child.

He woke up the day of the dance to the sound of a camera going off. Blinking groggily, one eye resting open while the other was more than happy to stay shut, he saw a giggling Eliza holding a freshly developed photo in front of him. It was one of him sleeping. Glaring accusingly, he plucked the photo from her fingers, put it on the nightstand, and pulled her onto the bed with him, both arms wrapped around her waist. Eliza laughed, gleeful and content with her new situation. Gilbert respected her. She was now his equal. She pressed a kiss to his nose before working on sliding away from him, but not before he took a morning kiss from her.

"Gilbert," she scolded playfully, "we do have to get to school, you know. I'm not in heat, so we don't have an excuse to not be there." She could read the Prussian's mind as the boy groaned in response, sitting up in bed and running a hand through an already fiercely intense bed head. Eliza's eyes softened with affection and she moved forward to press kisses to each of his closed eyelids. "Come on, let's get some breakfast in you. And then we're going to have to get to your house so you can get your clothes and outfit for the dance tonight."

Gil obligingly let Elizaveta guide him down the stairs, her fingers meshed with his as she careened down. Arriving in the kitchen, Gilbert was greeted with a sight that had him shifting uncomfortably; he may have accepted his feelings for Eliza,but that didn't mean that he could change what he thought was right and what he thought was wrong in one night, and this most certainly wasn't right. Aranka was at the stove, cooking, and Etel was helping, reading instructions from a booklet and looking helplessly to her mate for guidance.

Gil looked, wide-eyed over at Eliza, and got a reassuring smile in response. "This is a different kind of system, jóképű, you'll be okay," she squeezed his fingers reassuringly before walking in and getting a kiss on the cheek from both her mother and her father. Etel and Aranka then turned to Gilbert, welcoming smiles on their faces.

"Jó reggelt, Gilbert," said Etel, gesturing for him to take a seat at the table. "We're almost done with breakfast. I'm afraid I've slowed my darling mate down in my attempt to help her in the kitchen," she shrugged in a what-can-you-do gesture before turning her attention back to Aranka. Elizaveta took the seat next to Gilbert, her legs resting in the Prussian's lap, her right shoulder pressed against the back of the wooden chair she was sitting in.

The kitchen was nice, with a little island separating the dining table from the kitchen space. There were modern appliances; a stainless steel fridge, stove, and sink. There was a cupboard tucked back between the stove and sink, in a corner of the kitchen, that Gilbert was sure had plenty of food and spices in its hold.

Breakfast was served, and it was typical Hungarian fare, something Gilbert hadn't really tried before.

He wasn't disappointed.

There was some homemade bread placed on the table, cheese, and meat. A toaster joined all of it, plugged into the wall by a little socket just past the head of the table where no one was sitting. Aranka and Etel took the seats across from Gilbert and Elizaveta and they all began to eat. The little sandwiches that were created were called 'soldiers' and Gil was very fond of them. They were quick, easy, and delicious.

By the time everyone had finished and Aranka and Eliza had put the dishes up, school was close to starting. Gilbert and Elizaveta were going to have to run back to his house to get his stuff on time.

And they did. They practically sprinted that entire way back, Liz blowing kisses over her shoulder at her parents before scampering with Gil to the Beilschmidt house.

When the door was answered by his father, Gil just busted past the tight-mouthed German, knowing that he was going to be in for it but not really caring. Eliza stood politely in the doorway, the perfectly demure Omega, waiting for Alfher to let her in. Eventually, the blond-haired Alpha did, content with the way Eliza was acting, even if he wasn't pleased with how sweaty she appeared to be.

Gilbert got dressed in record time, snagged his costume from where it hung on a hanger in his closet, and was back downstairs before Alfher or Eliza knew it.

They were able to walk at a slower pace to school, with Gilbert's arm slung over her shoulders and hers resting on his waist in response. There was an easy-going nature to them now that hadn't been there before.

School passed bitingly slow. Romano was trailed by Antonio the entire day, the Spanish Alpha taking every opportunity given him to feather kisses upon his Omega, brushing his lips and teeth over the mark and growling with pleasure as the boy melted against him.

Gilbert and Eliza made a point to avoid them, and so did the rest of the school. It was kind of disgusting.

Francis was happier now that Matthew seemed to have gotten over his funk. They were on speaking terms once more, with Francis complimenting Matthew at practically every turn.

Mathias and Lukas were different that day as well. Lukas was less aloof than he had been in the past, initiating some contact with a nudge of his head or a brush of his lips. Mathias, surprisingly, didn't jump up and smother the Norwegian in enthusiasm, just gently and calmly responded in kind to each one of the other boy's gestures of affection.

Arthur and Alfred seemed to be butting heads more, however. Gilbert didn't know about what, nor did Elizaveta, but it wasn't pretty. Some of their fights spilled out into the hallways, not just in the abandoned classrooms that Arthur preferred. Alfred wanted the school to know what was going on, and Arthur didn't. A conflict of interests.

Gilbert accompanied Eliza home, kissing her goodbye at the door before swinging his outfit over his shoulder and meandering off to Francis's home. The three of them were going to get ready for the thing together, a completely Omega thing to do but oh well. They'd had sex, what could happen worse than that?

Gilbert didn't even bother knocking when he got to the elaborately carved door, just pushed it open.

"Bonjour, Gilbert," called Francis's mom from, presumably, the garden out back. She was big on plants.

"Guten Abend, Mrs. Bonnefoy!" called out Gilbert in response before popping off to his French friend's room. Francis was an only child, and his mother a single parent. She made do as the Omega in Francis's life, but she couldn't fill in the Alpha gap that the boy was missing.

"Francis! The awesome me has arrived!" called Gilbert, smashing into the room with awesomeness radiating in waves from him. He was cocky, arrogant, and in love; invincible.

Wrinkling his nose, Francis waved his hand in the air. "Mon Dieu, you smell like wet dog. Have you even had a shower?"

Gilbert shook his head, and was immediately shoved off in that direction.

While he was showering, he could hear the trill of Antonio's excitable Spanish voice dancing through the halls and into Francis's room, making Gilbert rush so that he didn't miss out on too much.

Gilbert returned to the room with a towel tied about his waist and another one being used to scrub his hair dry. The boys soon began to talk, like gossiping Omegas, about the men and women who'd stolen their hearts.

Their chatter carried them through the getting into outfits process.

Gilbert's chosen outfit to represent Prussia was actually more reminiscent of the Teutonic Knights, but that was okay, because the awesomeness that was the Teutonic Knights helped create the even awesomer country of Prussia. He had gray, skin-tight trousers with a white tunic over it, the tunic dropping all the way down to his knees. The fabric was then tightened about his waist by a black belt, matching the color of the Cross of the Teutonic Knights that adorned his chest. A cape rested about his shoulders, drifting down to mid-calf with another cross touching the corner of it. A skin tight, long-sleeved white shirt was beneath the tunic, helping him to cover more of the skin that the Teutonic Knights would have had covered. Small little divers were cut in triangles on either side of the tunic bottom, bordering Gilbert's legs.

Francis was wearing the French uniform from World War II, a fantastically overdone piece. It had alarmingly red pants, and a blue jacket or cape thing, with black boots. His blond hair and rather conceited Frenchiness only added to the regal splendor of it all.

Antonio, however, was wearing Spanish conquistador regalia. He had khaki trousers, a white tunic shirt that ended in froths of fabric at the sleeves, and a bright red coat over that with gold trimming, buttons, and white cuffs. A metal shoulder protector of sorts was encasing his right shoulder, a black ribbon tied about his neck, atop the collar of his tunic, and a burnt gold sash rested about his hips, with black boots attached to his feet. His brown hair and green eyes balanced the outfit nicely, along with that gorgeously tan skin. He was a sight for sore eyes, and Gilbert was pretty sure that Romano would be all over this Spaniard tonight.

Each of them had their chosen weapon that they fought with day-to-day gripped in their hand. Antonio held a hefty battle-ax leaning out from his body, the butt of it resting against the outside of his boot. Francis had a sword hung at his waist, resting comfortably in its scabbard that was cracked and soft from how often it'd been used. Gilbert's sword was in much the same place as Francis's With this all done, they were ready to go, and so they all departed, going their separate ways from Francis's house.

Antonio knocked on Lovino's door with a sharp rap, feeling remarkably attractive and confident in his outfit. When Lovino pulled the door open, he could see desire ignite in his Omega's eyes before being forcibly snuffed out.

Lovino was wearing World War II khaki. A brown belt marked out his waist from the bulkiness of his jacket, and his boots were just as dark. He had a button-down undershirt and a bunched, dark brown tie beneath the jacket, and he looked splendid.

Feliciano appeared from behind his brother, wearing the same outfit but in darker blue and with a black undershirt and blue tie.

Antonio escorted Lovino to the dance proudly, after his Omega kissed him and made sure to smother his scent all over him to let any sneaky Omegas know that this Alpha wasn't up for grabs.

Francis tapped lightly on Matthew's door, grinning as the boy opened it, those violet eyes glimmering happily at him. He was also wearing a World War II outfit, khaki, straight-ironed pants with what looked to be a lightly-tan fighter pilot jacket, complete with fur trimming, and two leather straps crossing each other on his chest and back. He looked magnificent, and Francis chanced a chaste kiss before leading Matthew away.

When Arthur arrived a little while later, he was wearing the British army uniform of the colonization period, around the 1600s-1800s. His uniform was red, with white lapels, gold buttons, and little slits to slide in any medals received. One white sash crossed his chest from left shoulder to right hip. Black cuffs were at his sleeves, and he wore black boots with white trousers, and all the vestments that made up the torso.

Alfred was wearing the American get-up of the Revolutionary War. His coat was blue, two bands were crossing each other on his chest, much like Matthew's outfit. He had the same accoutrements as Arthur. The two smiled shyly at one another and walked off to the dance.

Gilbert was bouncing on his toes as he waited for Eliza to open her door. When she did, he stood there like a deer in the headlights, his eyes absorbing every single inch of his Omega.

She was wearing a dark brown skirt that grew longer as it went back; a high-low. It was shortest when it hit her upper thigh, and lengthened until it got to her ankles in the back. She wore brown fur boots, a puff of assumingly faux animal hide peeping from the top of it and where the laces tightened the shoes about her feet. Her shirt, more like corset, was tight and left a small sliver of skin showing before the ties tightened the bodice more. It was a pale gray color, rimmed with black. She had a metal sheath, much like Antonio's, on her shoulder and her forearms, a tattered brown cape behind her. She didn't have a sword, and had swapped out her bright pink flowers for some silvery gray ones. She looked amazing, fierce, and delectable all at once.

And Gilbert did not want to let her go out wearing that. Stalking forward, he ran his hand along the arc of her neck, shivering at the smoothness of her skin and how low he could dip his hand before skin gave way to fabric. "Jesus I can't let you go out like this," he murmured, voice smooth with desire. He wanted to mark her, could feel every nerve in his body begging him to do it.

But he refused to put Elizaveta in that sort of situation again.

Smirking, she raised an eyebrow. "Take me as I am," she replied, noticing that her future mate had to grit his teeth to keep from snapping at her insolence. Their path would be a long one, the ways of traditional Alphas pretty ingrained, but she had faith that he could change. He already had; he'd accepted her for herself.

"This is for my own mental health, but so be it," he grumbled, offering her his arm and leading them away from the house. Etel and Aranka said they wanted pictures of the two after the dance; an odd request, but one that Gilbert didn't want to dishonor. What Gilbert really didn't understand was why Etel was letting her Omega daughter walk out of the house like this. It was risky, especially considering the fact that other Alphas could take advantage of the girl.

Or maybe she just had faith in Gilbert to protect her daughter. Gil stood a little taller at the thought, proud and determined not to disappoint.

When everyone arrived at school, the fun really began. Countries were buzzing around, people dressed intoxicatingly in attractive uniforms from their homeland. Almost every country was represented, and it was delicious. People were using their own languages now, comfortable in traditional clothes, and even more so in their traditional tongues. Things were easygoing.

And then the teachers caught sight of Elizaveta.

Do y'all think I rushed it a bit? I don't know.. Hm... Well, comment, review, I adore each and every one of y'all.

I love you, my beautiful readers!