I know this is short, but I haven't written in a long time and I wanted to get something out. I've been super busy and all that crap. Focused on the book I'm writting and all that. Being just plain lazy, you know? But I'm not leaving this fic unfinished. Not a chance. So here is another chapter, short, but still a chapter.
By the way, I have a very good reason to call Iceland a Bondevik. That comes later. I do not own Hetalia, nor do I own Carrickfergus. And yes, I know what I'm talking about.
Fucking god, he was never going to let it go.
For those of you that thought the last chapter was romantic and hella cute, it wasn't. It was hella embarrassing and completely unnecessary. If it weren't for that stupid dream, that little encounter would've never happened. Of course, I suppose that I should thank the bad dream - however messed-up that sounds. As much as I hate the concept, that night must've sparked something in Antonio's heart, because he didn't give me a moment of privacy for the rest of the damn trip. Yay. (That was only half sarcastic by the way.)
Not surprisingly, Kiku was the first one up - shaking the rest of us awake so we wouldn't miss call time. (Mrs. Karpusi was an idiot for trying to have us up and ready by 8:00 A.M. For anyone who's interested in knowing, the six of us were the only people on time.) I, of course, had to make breakfast, since I was the only person that brought extra food. Seriously, no one read emails anymore - not that I read the email myself either. Nonno did.
It took forever to get Tino up. He kept mumbling in his sleep about secret handshakes and drinking songs. His neck was in the weirdest angle and I was sure he'd have a crick in it the entire day. Yay, more torture for us.
But for once, he looked peaceful...maybe even happy. His lips were curved into a smile that I'd only ever seen on a small child. We were reluctant to wake him up, but we had no choice.
Cue in some random heavy metal song about going to hell, if there even are any.
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Imagine forty insane teens in a giant museum milling around, waiting for instructions. There'd be a lot of staring and dirty looks from the elderly and the 7th grade brats (at least I was one of those - the 7th grade kid, not the old geezer). The teachers would look apologetically at all the passerbys and shake their heads in despair.
I would know, cause I was one of those 40 brats that stood in that room with chaos around me.
Now this shit was real. And it freaking sucked. Everyone was in their little hangout groups, yelling at each other like children. Feli and Emil Bondevick from his grade were chatting loudly...Well, Feli was at least. Emil just looked slightly annoyed.
The black haired guy who had sat next to Antonio on the bus and the French girl, I think her name was Lucille, were engaged in probably the only civil conversation in the entire room. Remind me...I'll get back to that guy later.
Tino actually wasn't sucking ass today, even though he as pissed about getting up this morning. Instead, he and one of those blasted Kirkland brothers, probably Kennedy, chatted about...I don't even know what a Carrickfergus is. Since when can Tino chat without cursing his ass off?
I just stood there quietly, smiling. For once enjoying this crazy life I live.