Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia
A pallid moon hung against a velvety ultramarine canvas. Lustrous rhinestones twinkled, each with its own supremacy. Plumes of violet and indigo smoke seeped through tall chimneys. The soil was submerged in thick, icing sugar-like snow. With the intensity of fireflies: street lamps glowed and flickered, illuminating a silver sleigh with a group of chocolate-brown reindeers licking their obsidian snouts.
A tow-headed Santa Claus adjusted his vibrant-red hat, and then promptly hopped onto his seat. Grasping the reins, the sleigh ascended into the air, delicate snowflakes peppering his alabaster skin like the gentle kisses from a certain gentle giant. Finland filched through his dark pockets until his hand brushed against an off-white parchment. Retrieving it, he scanned the various nations and their somewhat mundane requests. He could still remember a certain lecherous Frenchman who last year demanded a Dild...
It would probably be best not to think of such things when concentrating on flying a sleigh.
One request stood out to him the most. Sweden: My wife's heart.
"Eep" squeaked the flushing Finn.
Elsewhere in the world....
A Frenchman lay curled up against his Canadian lover, idly dreaming of lacy, rosy pink and black underwear to dress his love in.
A poor Canadian wished for another bottle of maple syrup.
(The Frenchman didn't mind that request either...)
A Hungarian prayed for some BL manga books or a few snaps of Santa and his husband.
An Austrian hoped for a new tea-set.
An Italian was lulled to sleep, fantasizing about plates of pasta and err... wursts. Next to him, a German stroked his auburn locks.
A Greek's head rest against a Japanese man's lap, whilst a cat mewled and purred. The said Japanese man languidly sipped at some Jasmine scented tea.
A Belarusian mused about locating a bear-trap.
A Russian simply wanted some pesticide to look after his beloved lemon coloured flowers, definitely not to take care of his beloved sister, nope.
An Englishman sighed softly, sipping an amber liquid in a bone-white teacup, just hoping to receive something that would make the sandy blond, American-who currently had his head on his lap- shut the hell up.
And an American rambled lethargically, on his boyfriend's lap, contemplating ways to convince the man to shush him with a bitter tea kiss.
The Finn trampled through the mounds of chalky snow to meet an ebony wooden door, which then flung open.
"Ah.. Su-san, I'm back", Finland muttered in a bashful manner.
"Hn." The looming blond figure murmured, before wrapping his strong arms around the Finn.
"Um, about your present, I had to get you something else..." The Finn trailed off.
Sweden gave him gave him an unreadable look.
Finland's amethyst eyes could not quite meet his gaze.
"Silly Su-san, you've had my heart all along".