Hey look, I finally uploaded something! :D

So Berlin/Anya is my OC and the story is set during specific times during the Cold War. She falls in love with America but at the same time she has feelings for Russia for whatever reason. Pretty simple.

Disclaimer: HETALIA IS NOT MINE! Although I wish I owned it, I do not. TT^TT Oh well, maybe in the next life, yeah?

November, 1948

The blockade was taking its toll. The girl with crimson eyes watched the sky for the planes that would bring food to her city form America. She did not see them. The girl, Berlin, sighed and looked up and down the air field of Tempelhof Airport. Where are they? They said eleven and it's twelve! Again she sighed and turned her eyes back to the grey skies as the wind picked up, aggravating her red hair from its place around her ears. She shivered. She should've worn a scarf but then she'd be a little more like him wouldn't she?

The blockade was taking its toll. She hadn't seen her brother West for weeks and Prussia was laying low until further notice. One last time, Berlin sighed before turning her eyes away from the clouds and looking once more at the airfield in front of her. I guess he's given up too. Some hero you are. She turned and began to walk away, spirit sinking and heart beat accelerating, knowing that when she returned to the house he would be there, smiling at her, mocking her for expecting help from anyone now that she was his.

Her footsteps echoed throughout the large airspace. She stopped. The sound reminded her of that long walk she'd taken not so long ago down the ruined streets of her city. The memory of fallen buildings, buried bodies, and hospital beds for her and her brothers made her afraid to take another step, afraid of hearing more echoes. That fear soon vanished when she heard another sound. Turning around, her eyes returned to the sky. Upon seeing seven planes, she smiled and jumped up and down while waving her arms,

"Yes! Yes, over here!"

She ran to the edge of the air field where some volunteers were waiting to help unload the supplies and then ran back to greet and thank the pilots. It took a while, but she didn't mind. Her people needed food and that was exactly what was on the planes. The Second World War had torn the country to pieces and Russia wasn't exactly helping to fix the situation. All he cared about was more power in her eyes. Once all the work was done, she lay on her back on the tarmac, tired but happy that America hadn't forgotten her after all. She hear footsteps approaching her,

"Miss Weillschmidt?"

She sat up and looked at the young pilot who was addressing her,

"Yes, what is it?"

"I was told to give this to you miss."

The young pilot held out an envelope for her and she took it,

"Who from?"

"He didn't say."

She thanked him and they went their separate ways, the pilot returning to his plane and Berlin walked off of the airport and out onto the still healing streets of her city. After walking for about an hour, she came to the house she now called home. As quietly as she could, Berlin entered the house, looked both ways to see if there was anyone around, and then quickly ran up to her room, closing the door behind her and blocking it with a chair. Not that it would do much good if Russia decided he needed to tell her something. Upon retrieving a letter opener, she sliced open the paper and took the letter in her hands, reading it carefully:

Hey Berlin

Sorry if the guys were a little late on showing up today. There was a storm and we had to delay them taking off for a while otherwise they would've crashed on some remote desert island. Hopefully things aren't as bad over there as they were a few weeks ago. My boss thinks that Stalin will eventually remove the blockade but until then, we've been given orders to keep delivering food and other stuff you probably need on a regular basis.

Oh, and if some random people in bomber jackets like mine come up to you on the street and say they have a message for you, trust them. They're under cover agents trying to stop the communism thing from going beyond the city limits. So don't beat them over the head with a baseball bat like you did France one time, they're trying to help you, I promise.

Now that all the formal stuff is out of the way, is there anything that you in particular need? Please let me know if you need me to send someone to infiltrate the house or anything if Russia starts acting like….well, Russia. I know you like to do things yourself so I won't try to force help on you or anything but I'm here to be the hero if you need one. Don't go trying to take him on by yourself, that's just plain crazy although not nearly as crazy as England. Can you believe he still thinks fairies are real? I mean come on!

Anyway, I hope you're doing okay. Hopefully this blockade won't last much longer and you can see West again. I know how important family is to you guys over there which is why I'm telling you that he's doing fine. My people on his side reported back a few days ago saying that he was worried about you and whathisname but that otherwise he was doing fine. Oh! And I'm coming to see you next time we send supplies! My boss is going to try and negotiate with Russia's boss to see if that makes the blockade go away.

See you soon

Your hero

America, Alfred F. Jones

P.S.

I forgot your other brother's name! Sorry Anya, but if they're not nations I tend to forget so please don't hit me with a baseball bat either!

She laughed. Sometimes America's letters were the only good parts of her day. This is exactly why as soon as she finished reading them; she hid them in a compartment underneath a drawer on her vanity. Only she knew where it was and you couldn't even get it open without knowing the mechanism or breaking the entire thing apart. After she'd hidden it, she took the chair away form the door and put it back in its proper place. She then walked to the edge of her bed and sat down. He'd called her Anya. The only time she ever really heard her human name was never on a good occasion. Prussia used to use it when he was mad at her to warn her she was in trouble. West had only used it once when he thought he was dying at the end of World War Two. And Russia…

And Russia…

She sighed and fell back onto the blankets. All this stress and anxiety couldn't possibly be good for her health. The next delivery wasn't far away, until then she'd just smile and nod like she always did. After that, America would be here and the blockade would be lifted and everything would be fine. There was a short, cynical laugh aimed at the ceiling closely followed by a wry smile. Since when is anything fine anymore? That thought in her head, she let her eyes close slowly, sleep offering to take her to a more pleasant place. Unfortunately, this was not meant to be. The door downstairs slammed and she bolted upright. Russia was home…

The blockade was taking its toll…

There's the first one. What do you think?