Rated M. This is a piece of literary fiction. The Author does not claim ownership pertaining to the ideas/characteristics/ect, of Hetalia or any subsidiary thereof.
Thank you all! My Sweet reviewers! I adore you :D
Also, for all the Belarus fans. ;) Don't worry he will be awesome.
Rated M.
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America scratched at her neck.
Something seemed off...
Her blue eyes, slightly narrowed behind Texas, turned to the left and to the right. Hm. That was strange. She certainly didn't see anything out of the ordinary. Huh. Maybe whatever craziness Japan and Canada had was contagious.
Oh lord, she hoped not. What sort of disease gave you paranoia? There had to be a few of those. She'd call the CDC later. She smoothed a hand through her golden locks, waiting for a moment. She searched inside of herself.
Whatever the feeling was, it didn't feel dangerous. Just... Just...
Strange.
Like someone was watching her. America glanced around again. Once more. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary. Huh...
Then again, they were in an antiques shop. A place that was a bevy of treasures for nations. The places that brought pieces of time back to them.
However, Japan was busy speaking to America about the history and culture of some tea pot in front of them. Honestly, America was only half-listening. She was attempting to find the source of what was causing her to feel so out of place. Yet, she couldn't find anything.
Must have been a security camera, or something. That seemed perfectly plausible. Her blue eyes glanced sideways, and she caught sight of something that seemed to draw her forward. Japan continued to speak, making sure to hit the broad marks of the tradition of making clay tea pots for America. However, the Star-Spangled nation was walking toward a small sewing kit.
It didn't seem like much. In fact, it wasn't. But such things brought up many vast and painful memories for America. Ones she could not help but fall into.
She sat there, stiff needle, much larger than the ones now. Hewn of bone, or wood, not metal. They were labor intensive to make. Precious and costly, but a necessity of the time. America had her own, kept safe within a pewter case. They were crudely made, but there was not much to be said for that. She remembered gazing with want at the 'pin cushion' that England touted about.
With those needles, and that thick thread, she sat down and helped the women of her country sew the very first flags. First, with England's banner, and then... with her own. Each time that her flag changed, as time made things easier to procure and to manufacturer; she had still sewn her flag. Each stich was equal prats love and tenacity. It had meant so much... a Banner to march under. The symbol of her freedom.
Her eyes misted slightly, a look of fondness stole over her features. That was centuries ago now. But, the fondness of the act had never been lost to America. Her own sewing tools, were locked away carefully in her storage. Far too precious to keep out. This one, though... on this one looked slightly similar to America's true treasure. It was Victorian, if she wasn't mistaken.
Delicately she picked up the small box. Her blue gaze stared at it intently, noticing that it had been dropped at some point. Some small dent was here or there. However, otherwise, the Star-Spangled nation would hazard to guess that it was early 1800's. It was gorgeous.
"America," Japan interrupted, from her side.
Said nation startled. She gave a 'yelp' as she struggled not to drop the box. America clutched it to her chest, attempting to protect the precious thing.
"Uh..." She stated eloquently. "Hey Japan, what's up?"
Dark eyes seemed to shine with amusement.
"Are you ready to go? Or would you like to purchase that?" The other female nation pointed to the box with a slender finger.
The blonde nation blushed, and laughed brightly. She hadn't even looked at the price of the thing, but the sudden embarrassment over being lost in her memories caused the woman to shake her head to the negative.
"Nah, sorry," America said as she nearly reverently placed the small box back. "You wanna grab something to eat?"
Japan smiled serenely.
"I would never starve you, America."
The Star-Spangled nation chuckled as they walked out of the shop.
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Cold, hard, and delighted blue eyes watched the way America handled the small box.
He snuck closer, gazing at it with slight surprise, though it did not show upon his face.
Love me. Love me. The cry in his thoughts now was borderline joyous. A gift.
He touched it, feeling the lingering warmth from America's fingers still upon the pewter. Belarus' lips twitched slightly. His thoughts churned, wild with what he saw. A sewing box? This is what his boisterous darling wanted? Something so...simple? Something tightened in his chest, and his heart seemed to elate at the sight of it. Though, Belarus did not truly understand as to 'why'.
He spared a glance, noticing that America and Japan were getting farther away. Belarus would return for this. This was the first thing that had caused America's face to change. That look on her face... It was something that made his own heart beat faster. A small prickling of guilt still remained, for Russia would surely be devastated now that Belarus no longer intended to marry her. The quiet nation felt a moment of pity for it. However, it had to be done.
America had accepted him.
So easily. Belarus was still as delighted as he could be over the situation. He would still dedicate his knives and forces to protecting the classical beauty that was his beloved Russia. Yet, the one he wanted to be with him through his cold nights and warm days...
Belarus closed his eyes, allowing the image of bright Blue eyes to filter to the top of his thoughts. Smiling eyes. Lovely American eyes. She was his betrothed now. America had agreed to be his.
His cold eyes seemed to glow as he gazed down at what he would give to America. A betrothal gift. It was perfect. His thoughts briefly wondered if he would see that same soft look on her face again. He wanted to see it.
He wanted to make her happy.
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Japan mentioned being followed at least five more times that day. And, admittedly, America had felt some of that when they were walking around, but it could honestly have been the cameras. She felt that same feeling of being watched in her own lands when she got to close to an ATM. Yet, she shrugged it off.
It was probably nothing.
She lazily flicked through a stack of paper work, with everything marked as being 'confidential' or 'urgent'. Because everyone thought that their problems were more than everybody else's. America snickered quietly. She was no better than anyone else. She sighed as she stretched, getting ready for the break that was to come.
Damn it. She needed the magical coffee fairy! America put all of her concentration into summoning the wonderful being from the very corners of heaven.
A light touch on her shoulder, nearly startled her out of her chair. Yet, America managed to turn with grin in place.
"Yes?"
Kind and warm brown eyes gazed down at her.
"Want some coffee?" Hungary offered politely.
Dear Lord! The magical coffee fairy existed! And his name was Hungary! Praise the stars for Hungary!
"Hellz yeah," America stated seriously, as Texas flashed. The male nation chuckled fondly.
She watched as he got up form his chair, others were still milling about. Speaking of which, when the hell did this meeting end anyway?
Slowly, she glanced up, looking for the clock on the wall, but her eyes met cold blue.
America blinked.
Texas gleamed and Nantucket bounced slightly as she tilted her head to the side. Near the door, was Belarus. He started at her. America grinned in reflex. Her grin soon turned to a wide smile as she fondly recalled his continuation of their joke. Which was still hella embarrassing sometimes, when she remembered him overhearing her attempt to get a rise out of Canada.
It was alright. Japan helped with the Whipped cream. It had all worked out in the end, and now her sister was leery of anything that bore the label 'Ready Whip'. America laughed gently at the memory.
She knew, that as a good Samaritan, she should probably warn Russia that her little brother was here. But...
They weren't on the best of terms right now. And, though America did understand the woman's plight, she wasn't inclined to tip her off just yet. Russia' wonderful morning comment about America being a 'sow' did sort of tip that decision away from Russia' favor. As if Russia could sense her unkind thoughts, the Slavic nation turned. Her face paled at the sight of her sibling.
America bit her lip to keep from dissolving into laughter, as she buried her face back in her paperwork. Ah, man... this was gonna rock.
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Cold and hard eyes watched the two female nations nearly simultaneously. Belarus wanted to make certain that no male nations were attempting to cause harm to his beloved sister. He still wanted to protect Russia. Even though he knew that she could defend herself. It was something that he dearly loved about the larger nation. He had witnessed the hellions he could be when battle came about. It was something that caused his veins to hum pleasantly.
Russia was still perfect, in a sisterly way. She was everything that Belarus could ever hope for.
As an added stroke of good luck, Russia was not shaking in maidenly sweetness anymore. Belarus lamented the fact that he had not been able to spend as much time with Russia. For she was still very dear to him. However, now that America had expressed her want to...
To give him children. Belarus had found that he could not keep his thoughts away from the Star-Spangled, brash, and boisterous nation.
A slight movement. That was all it took to draw his eyes off of Russia. Blue eyes, hardened further, as he saw Hungary touch...
He touched!
America...
Something wriggled under Belarus' skin. Hot and impossible to ignore. Jealousy. He knew this feeling well. His gaze remained focused on America. Specifically the spot that had been touched by Hungary.
No. That bastard had better not try and steal away his America. Loud and sometimes annoying, though she might have been, she had agreed to marry him. She wanted him. Belarus' fingers bit into the wood of the door frame, enough to make the wood groan in protest.
The strong nation that smiled brightly, like a beacon that drew Belarus in further.
Love me. Love me. His thoughts chanted, clamored and whirled.
But then her eyes, such happy eyes, turned toward him. America grinned at him, and he watched as that grin bloomed into a truly fond smile. Fondness...
She thought of him fondly. The chant in his head eased, slightly. As a soft dusting of pink spread across his cheeks.
It was then that he noticed Russia once more. Her pale skin seemed even more devoid of color. His brow furrowed momentarily. He hoped she was not getting sick. Russia's eyes went wide and she began to shake in her chair. Belarus sighed at the sight. Amusement wormed into his thoughts, that it was odd Russia never truly had become accustomed to the cold.
Though, he would not call this warm office cold at all. But, obviously, it was affecting Russia.
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America noticed the package, set on top on her briefcase...
In her previously locked office.
Okay...
This was new...
She tip-toed toward it. Her suspicions on high alert. This had better not be something that would explode. Oh man, she was gonna beat someone's ass if this ruined her desk. And, her office. Her sky blue eyes narrowed behind Texas, and she grabbed for it anyway. It didn't explode. That was a bonus. It also wasn't ticking...
So far, so good.
She peered at the dark scrawl onto of the package.
'America'.
Well, that was definitely her. She quirked a brow and started to rip the paper. Soon, a familiar pewter was revealed. The same box she had spent a week thinking about, and four days trying to track down again.
It was here, in her hands, once more.
Her eyes misted and she smiled at it with true delight.
Oh, how sweet! Japan had gotten the sewing box for her.
"It's gorgeous," America muttered with a sense of giddiness.
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Just outside the door, a male nation listened to her words, cooed in an expressive western way.
Belarus gave the slightest smile upon hearing them. His hand touched her door briefly, and he peeked through the crack to see the face she made. That same sweet expression was there.
America...
His betrothed. The one that said such outlandish things. About bearing his children. The same nation that agreed to his proposal without hesitation. Though, he still had yet to decide how to break the news to Russia. It would happen. Perhaps this was for the very best.
Love me.