North American Hurricane (Hetalia)

Author: Ashynarr

Summary: In the same vein as Bunnies For Your Amusement, I now bring you my collection of oneshots and short stories featuring the North American twins, America and Canada! Now including non-LJ drabbles.

Disclaimer: Hetalia's not mine.

Warning: Random Shit, Bros Being Bros, fem!Ame, human AU

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"What's this?"

Looking back on the incident later, Matthew couldn't decide whether it was a good thing or a bad thing he'd been late coming back from his evening class, thus being the only one passing through the student lounge when he noticed the notebook halfway under the couch.

Though he was new to the college and its dorm system, his neighbors all seemed to be friendly enough, if weird as all get out, and his roommate was rather perky when she wasn't rambling on about scifi alien quest campaign thing. As such, he tried to help around and do things like prep the coffee maker if he was the first up in the morning, help clean up after the parties the Germans down the hall liked to throw, and occasionally share the cookies he made when he was studying for a big test to snack on.

(Apparently the cookies had been enough to start an impromptu study club in the lounge whenever he made them. Maybe Francis had been onto something when he'd said food made more friends than grades or sports after all.)

(Not that hockey or his teammates weren't important as well.)

Returning to the point, he was late, so he'd figured at the time that someone had just forgotten their notebook for the evening and that he could simply check whose it was and return it to them before he went back to his room to shower and fall into bed. Pulling it out, he'd noted it looked a bit beat up and worn, and also had no name on the outside indicating a class or teacher or name of any kind.

Cracking open the covers also showed no sign of a name, and at that point he was more than a bit confused, and so decided he could at least take a stab at the class and guess whose it was from there. And then abruptly slammed the book shut, not reading past the first couple of lines.

'Stupid therapy journal. Stupid therapist. I dunno how this is supposed to help me 'get over things' when it's just a bunch of paper all held together with glue and more paper.'

Shit fuck damn tabernac, this was a diary. A therapy diary. And Matthew was not going to pry under any circumstances, because whoever this belonged to would not want people sniffing around their personal lives like this. Really, he just needed to find the owner as soon as possible and-

...shit, he had no idea who it could be, because a) he didn't know any of the people in the dorm that well, and b) the only answer would probably be inside the thing, which would c) require him to pry after all, even if it was just the last page.

Goddamnit. He sighed and ran a hand through his hair, glancing around and realizing that even if he was alone, this place was still too public and he didn't want to answer any awkward questions if someone just happened to come by at the wrong moment. Grabbing up his own books as well, he hauled them all into his room and dumped them on his bed, pulling out the diary again with a strong upwelling of guilt at even this.

Taking a deep breath, he opened his eyes again and opened it to the back, slowly flipping forward until he hit the last entry, dated to that morning.

"So apparently my roommate has a twin brother, if the picture I saw on his laptop means anything. Otherwise he's got a weird fetish for guys with the same face as himself, not that there's anything wrong with that. Man he's so lucky, though - I've always wanted a little brother or sister, but I guess having crappy parents doesn't help much with that. On second thought, maybe it's a good thing they didn't, because I'd hate for another kid to have to deal with them.

"I just wish I could actually get him to talk more, ya know? I mean, a guy who plays hockey on the side while he majors in journalism has to have a story, especially since I snuck into one of his practices and damn can he throw a punch. Like, this was Mike Tyson levels of incredible. But he almost never talks during our dorm meetings, just sits back and listens and makes those awesome cookies (note to self - learn that recipe cause Abby will kill for them).

"Ah well, maybe I'll ask later if he's not asleep when I get back. I'd really like to-"

The entry cut of there, looking like she - and he definitely could guess whose it was now, since he was the only one he knew who had a twin brother - had scrambled to put it away, perhaps dropping it when she'd left for class. Matthew closed the book and sighed, wondering what he was going to do now.

...well, at the least there was one thing he could do right.

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Eleanor bit back a frustrated scream as she almost slammed into the room, trying not to wake up Matthew with her growing panic. Damnit, she knew she should've checked to see if she'd had all her things before she left, but she'd been late to class as it was and the test had been way too important to leave just so she could find her diary. Right now she was seriously regretting it, because she couldn't find it anywhere in the lounge and couldn't be sure who'd found it, not to mention asking around about it would certainly let them know it was hers and if they'd read it-

She choked back tears, praying to god she wouldn't end up having to drop her classes and move if rumors got out about her past, because there was a reason she'd taken her uncle's offer to get the heck out of dodge and move to the other side of the country where her parents couldn't track her down as easily, if they cared enough to try. Opening the door to her bedroom, she tossed her backpack to the side and glanced up, only to suck in a breath.

Her journal was on her bed, a single folded piece of lined paper sitting on top. Shakily, not daring to believe she was this lucky, she grabbed the note and exhaled in relief.

"I found this under the couch and thought it was a notebook, so I looked inside. Don't worry, I didn't look past the first three sentences and the last entry, and I'm not planning on letting anyone know about it. Sorry about that, by the way - there wasn't a name, and I didn't want to just ask around, especially with something so personal."

There was no name offered, but Eleanor had a good idea of who it might be, considering only one other person had the key to their room, and he was likely asleep in the other bedroom. Maybe her luck was really turning around, after all.

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AN: Just a short piece, because while the prompt asked for Matthew to actually read through the journal, I felt that that was a) rude and b) out of character, so he only did enough peeking to realize who it was and return it. Eleanor's still thankful either way, so yeah.