Hetalia: Sweet Child Of Mine, ch 1The estate felt empty. It always felt empty. With forty-eight rooms for two people, how could it not? As night closed in, Hungary stared out the window at the endless field of stars. Although she usually enjoyed stargazing - it reminded her of her wild past and her countless adventures on horseback - tonight it felt hollow. The night sky held a blackness without depth that made her feel ever more alone.
She turned around in her oversized chair by the window and looked across the drawing room. Far away - too far away - her husband sat in an oversized chair of his own. The two chairs were a matching set, of course. Custom made. There were only two ways to tell them apart. Hungary’s chair was always placed by the room’s largest window because she preferred to look outside, and her seat cushion was still as plush as the day the chair was made, because she also preferred to BE outside. Austria’s chair, howev
Beginnings, Chapter ElevenIt was nearly nightfall by the time Matthew entered the cabin. Francis and Alfred hurried to meet him.
“Hey, Francis! I found him!”
“Dieu merci. We were so worried.”
“Sorry I was gone so long.” Absent-mindedly, he put his hand over where he had worn his maple leaf. Somehow, noticing it wasn’t there made him feel more grown-up; more mindful. For the first time, he thought of himself as a real nation. All of a sudden, he had a real history with real challenges, real victories, and real regrets. The following day would be his birthday, marking yet another passing year in his life. This year however, it wouldn’t be just another celebration. It represented an actual change. A turning point. For the first time ever, Matthew felt like he was gaining the beginnings of a national identity.
“It’s not as much fun as I thought it would be,” he s
Beginnings, Chapter TenThey arrived in front of a narrow wooden building that was about 80 feet long. At the front end was a doorway, draped with a deer hide, which Matthew’s mother pushed aside as she carried him in. Matthew revelled in the feeling of being close to her. It was something he was experiencing for the first time, as far back as his memories could reach, yet it was something he knew as his origin point. He tried not to mind it too much when she put him down. Matthew’s mother left to get some First Aid supplies. He hoped she’d return soon. The cuts on his arms and the scrape on his knee were beginning to sting.
He sat back, looking up at the arching roof overhead. It was so dark inside the longhouse, it was hard for him to see much else. That’s when he heard a rustling noise. A beam of sunlight flashed as something moved the deer hide door flap for just a moment. Matthew gulped. Someone - or something
Beginnings, Chapter NineWithout thinking, Matthew ran and ran. He let the trees surround him, wishing with all his might that they would block out his feelings. As the forest grew denser, Matthew was forced to slow down. His instincts told him he should turn back, but in that moment, his sadness was stronger than his instincts. There was no way he was returning to the cabin. There were no more hard decisions he’d force himself to face.
The birds kept singing overhead, and to Matthew, it seemed almost rude of them to carry on like that. He recalled how he used to think of the birds and squirrels as his friends; that was before he met Alfred. It wasn’t fair that he would have to give up Alfred.
Matthew sobbed. He wanted someone to comfort him, but everyone he loved was so far away in so many ways. Soon, the forest floor was so thick with plant life that Matthew had to change directions. He spied a clearing a short distance away and m
Hetalia: Rainy NightTonight was the fourth rainy night in a row. Between the cloudy days and stormy nights, Arthur hadn’t see the sun in forever. Not that he missed it.
“Not that I miss anything at all,” he said aloud, turning the picture frame around. He debated throwing the photo away. It wasn’t like he wanted to see that loudmouth’s goofy, bespectacled face every time he walked into his study.
Outside, the wind howled. Arthur shut the study door behind him, hoping to make the large room seem cozier. It was on nights like these that Arthur’s mind tended to wander.
So many memories haunted him. Every drop of rain that fell made him think of all the wasted seconds. The little boy who admired his every action somehow grew into the young man who would rather face death than stay by his side. Whatever had gone wrong, it was always itchingly beyond Arthur’s grasp.
“No,” Arthur said to himself. He