My second fan fic! Hooray~!
This story was inspired by my own stupidity (and true events)
I don't own Hetalia in any way, shape, or form! It's kinda sad really…
Please review and enjoy!
How could I be so stupid? Matthew glared at the bandage that now encased his foot. He gave out an exasperated sigh, leaning back onto the couch. Why me…?
The day had started out like any other day, another G8 meeting. Although no one would really notice he was late, he found himself running anyway. Matthew sped down the hallway, clutching his ever-present bear, Kumajirou, to his chest.
Pushing the door open, Matthew scurried across the tile floor, making his way to his seat. Looking at the scene before him, the Canadian saw a fight had broken out between America and England…again.
Hamburgers, tea, and punches were being thrown all around the room, followed by long strings of curses. The other countries watched in exasperation as the two (idiotic) nations battled it out. France was laughing, almost seductively, at the spectacle and Russia sat and smiled at the violence unfolding before him. Both were obviously waiting for the fight to finish, so as to "help out" the loosing nation. Both for very different reasons, however. Russia would most likely ask the weakened nation to "become one" with him, while France would…well, be France.
The commotion was interrupted by a loud squeal that rang out from across the room.
To say that Matthew was surprised that his face hit the floor was an understatement. He let out a quiet groan as he attempted to pick himself up off the ground. Inspecting his clothes, he saw a darkened liquid that covered both him and the floor.
Tea. He had slipped on tea. Matthew looked up, noticing the awkward silence that filled the room. The entire room was staring at him with a mixture of shock and confusion. It figures, the one time someone notices me I do something embarrassing.
The silence was broken by America's sudden laughter. "Wow, good job, bro" he said, clapping his hands.
Matthew laughed nervously, "Yeah, sorry…" Gee, thanks for your concern, Al.
"Wait! What's going on? Who is this wanker?" The overworked Brit began smacking America over the head, demanding answers. Alfred, however, just laughed and decided to move on to the actual meeting.
Matthew sighed and picked up his disgruntled polar bear. Kumajirou let out a low growl, annoyed at having been thrown across the room, due to his master's stupidity. The Canadian tested his foot, which had twisted awkwardly during the fall. Deciding he could walk on it, he made his way to his chair and listen to his brother's constant babble.
Matthew was woken out of his reverie as searing pain shot through his foot. The Canadian practically threw the white blob of fur off his aching appendage. Kumajirou feigned innocence, giving him a seemingly smug smile. "Who?"
Matthew glared at his vengeful pet. Their gazes stayed locked until the owner sighed. "Canada," he said, gaze softening. He threw his legs over the side of the couch, careful not to jostle his fractured foot. Though he had been fine after the initial incident, as the day progressed, Matthew found his foot getting worse, making it harder to walk. By the time the meeting was over, we was limping out the door, and by the time he got home, forget about walking. And that's how he ended up stranded on his couch.
"Food?" Matthew sighed (he'd been doing that a lot lately), and attempted to apply pressure to his foot. Pain radiated through his foot and into his ankle. Using his good leg, he got up, steadying himself.
Being that he didn't own crutches, Matthew was forced to hop around his own house like a retarded kangaroo. Precisely why he had stayed on his couch for most of the night. But he couldn't let his polar bear starve, or himself for that matter. Matthew rested a hand on his stomach, which was now growling at the thought of food.
He proceeded to hop to his kitchen. His curl bounced wildly the entire way, threatening to blind anyone who came near the injured Canadian. When he finally reached the refrigerator, Matthew pulled out a semi-frozen fish and tossed it to Kumajirou. As the bear happily munched on his dinner, Matthew buried his head into the cold contents of is fridge, looking for something to eat. He opted for left over pancakes and threw some on a plate.
Matthew groaned at the distance between him and the microwave. Why did it have to be across the kitchen? He hopped his was to the machine, careful not to drop his precious pancakes. After putting them in, he reached across the counter, grabbing a bottle of maple syrup.
The timer went off and in a matter of minutes; the Canadian was happily noming on sweet, fluffy goodness. Pancakes always made him feel better!
After a quick load of (one legged) dishes, Matthew hobbled into his living room and plopped onto his couch once more. Finding nothing better to do, Matthew flicked on the TV and began surfing through channels. Finally deciding on hockey, Matthew got comfortable, wiggling into the good spot on the couch and pulling a pillow up to his chest.
Matthew hadn't realized he had fallen asleep until he woke up the next morning. Yawning, he sat up attempting to see the world through hazy eyes.
Sunlight poured through the window, giving the room a distinct 'morning' feeling. Seeing as how he had fallen asleep with the TV on, Matthew directed his attention to what looked like the news now.
"Looks like we're gonna get some snow this week, Kumakichi" he said cheerfully to the bear who had just wandered into the room. Kumajirou gave a less that enthusiastic grunt, obviously not sharing his master's excitement for the upcoming cold front.
Sighing, Matthew turned off the TV, staring at his reflection in the blackened glass.
His glasses sat at the edge of his nose, slightly askew and mussed from being slept on. His blond hair ruffled from sleep and, of course, that untamable curl bobbed up and down with each movement the Canadian made.
Sudden realization surged through Matthew, causing him to jump up from his seat. Were he not preoccupied with hurriedly getting ready for the meeting (which he was already late for), Matthew would have acknowledged the fact that his foot felt much better. Instead of having to hop around, the Canadian could now pull off walking with no more than a limp. Thank God nations heal quickly.
Matthew hurriedly changed his clothes and combed his hair. Not bothering to eat, he scooped up Kumajirou and half limped, half ran out the door.
Matthew got to the meeting an hour late. He silently opened the door and slipped in unnoticed, like usual.
Catching his breath, Matthew surveyed the room. Alfred was going on one of his usual 'hero' rants, talking about freedom and how the power of hamburgers conquers all. The other countries, quite used to this daily occurrence, found other ways to bide there time in order to tune out the obnoxious American.
Italy, or Feliciano, had taken to drawing on the paper he had been given to take notes on. Beside him, Germany (Ludwig) was quietly scalding him for doing so. Sitting next to him was Japan, otherwise known as Kiku. The small black haired Asian was staring worriedly at Alfred, who was proposing to carry out some ridiculous plan involving world domination via McDonalds. All the while, Francis and Arthur chimed in with sarcastic comments, somehow managing to piss each other off.
Some things never change…Matthew thought, leaning back in his chair. His eyes drifted to the last member of G8, Russia. Ivan Braginski.
Matthew turned to find the Russian staring at him from across the table, wearing his usual creepy smile. Violet eyes locked on each other for a moment, creating a strange sense of tension. Matthew quickly averted his eyes, clearly uncomfortable under the other man's gaze. He shyly looked back, an awkward smile playing on his lips. Giving him a small wave, Matthew saw Russia's smile widen slightly. The Russian gave him a small nod in return and slowly turned back to the stupidity at the center of the room.
That wasn't weird at all…Matthew tugged Kumajirou closer to his chest, feeling rather conflicted. On one hand, someone had just acknowledged his existence. On the other hand, it was Russia. I'm not sure I'm attracting the right kind of attention…
It wasn't long before the meeting was drawn to a close. And like always, nothing got done. Matthew waited for the majority of the people to leave the room. When all fell silent, he sank back into his seat and started to study his throbbing foot. Although it was on the fast road to recovery, his foot hadn't appreciated the strain it had been put through during this morning's commotion. Mid-inspection, Matthew felt a hand on the back of his chair.
"Is Matvey okay?" Matthew jumped at the sudden noise, squeaking in surprise. Practically hovering over him was Russia, his signature creeper smile gracing his pale lips. The man's proximity was getting uncomfortably close, as the Russian leaned toward the stunned Canadian. Matthew forgot how to speak for a moment, his nose just inches away from Russia's.
"O-oh, yes I'm fine thanks." His voice came out no louder than a whisper, causing the Russian to giggle. Creeper…
"You know, when I saw Matvey limping away yesterday, I was worried."
Matthew froze. Worried about me? Before he could stop himself, Matthew asked, "Why…?"
Russia blinked in confusion, pulling away for a moment. Then, raising his eyebrow, he said, "Why wouldn't I be?"
Feeling the blush on his cheeks, Matthew rested his chin on the top of Kumajirou's head in an attempt to hide it. He began stuttering over his words, struggling to regain control of his voice. Finally he managed to say, "O-oh, well thanks for your concern. I-I mean, I'm fine now thanks, a-and I'm feeling m-much better now."
"Good. I'm glad your doing better." Matthew's blush deepened, painting his cheeks in dark shades of crimson. Much to his distress, Russia was intently staring him down, giving him no chance to hide it. He needed to escape.
"U-um, I should get going." Matthew stood up, careful to avoid putting pressure on his sore foot. But before he could fully stand, the Canadian was hoisted through the air and into a pair of warm arms.
Matthew looked up to see Russia, holding him bridal style, carrying him as if he weighed nothing. "Injured people shouldn't be walking, da? We don't want you straining your foot more than you have to, do we?"
Matthew stared at him blankly, unsure of what to do next. As Russia began walking toward the door, in his arms, the Canadian's mind was reeling.
"Ivan…you really don't have to do this, I can walk perfectly fine."
"Are you questioning me?" Russi-…Ivan's eyes narrowed, a dark aura surrounding his very being.
A small 'meep' escaped Matthew's lips as he hurriedly shook his head. "Good," he said, smile instantly returning.
A loud growl interrupted the two nations' thoughts. Damn it! I knew I should have taken the time to eat breakfast. Ivan chuckled. Maple…
"Is little Matvey hungry?" Matthew flushed at the words 'little Matvey'. Normally, he would be pissed at that kind of nickname, but seeing how he was in the grasp of a big scary Russian, he wasn't really in a position to complain.
Giggling nervously, he said, "Yeah…I was kind of in a rush to get out the door this morning and didn't have time to eat breakfast…"
"Say no more. I'll take you out to lunch, my treat!"
"Oh no, that's really not necessa- Ow!" Matthew jerked his hand away from his pet's clenched jaw. Kumajirou was obviously less than please with having not been fed this morning, and was not about to let him turn down a free meal. Matthew stared forlornly at the bear, who merely growled in response.
"It's settled then!" Matthew whimpered as the larger nation practically skipped out the door, the Canadian still held firmly in his arms. Seeing no other escape options, Matthew relaxed into Ivan, giving in to the awkward situation. Today is going to be very interesting…
Yay~! The first chapter! That was a lot more work than I had originally anticipated…
I'll mostly likely post the 2nd chapter, when (or if) I get 4 or 5 reviews, so please review and tell me what you think!