Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia or any of its characters. All the credit goes to Himaruya Hidekazu.
Sorry if there's anything wrong with the foreign terms, words or sentences. I used Google translator and I really don't trust it. Correct me if you want, it will be utmost welcome. And I apologize if I had some characters act totally OOC, I tried hard to make them stick to their character. I appreciate constructive criticism but not flamers. This story is also un-betaed so sorry for any wrong grammar.
The witch and the vampire
I'm currently pissed off right now. Bloody freaking pissed off…
Maybe America's ludicrous ideas about building a giant "sewing" robot to fix the giant gaping hole on the Ozone layer was wearing on my nerves or that France can't seem to keep his bloody hands for himself was getting to me. I couldn't even listen anymore, bloody hell even if I listen, America's speech wouldn't make sense (when did it ever make sense). Nor can I comprehend what the hell is going on this pathetic meeting.
As usual, these meetings would down right fly out the window without Germany to take the reigns and maneuver it. But still, these meetings rarely get anywhere. Sometimes I think our bosses are just messing with us. I mean this never really did took off that great from the very beginning. It sucked, just like the bloody frog that was groping my thighs right now.
"Angleterre, so mean of you. I was just trying to get your attention back to the meeting~ your mind seems to be having a bit of a siesta hmmm~" His eyebrows waggling for more emphasis, making me want to throw up.
A vein popped in my head. What a ridiculous excuse! Honestly what does this frog take me for? I've known him for a very long time! And by a very long time, I MEAN A BLEEDING LONG TIME! I should know whether his planning something perverted (when was he not) or whenhe was being his normal snail-sucking, amphibian self (still being a big pervert) and he still insist on putting this idiotic façade. I sneered at him.
"Attention, my arse. You frog should just sod off! If my mind floats to anywhere, you wouldn't catch it within five meters near you!" I snapped at him.
"Aww~ You're so cruel, Mon petit England. Look at your forehead, your eyebrows are practically merging!"
A vein popped again. Seriously, does France want to be beaten up today or was he just high…I don't even want to know. 'Temper, temper there's a meeting right now. Tem…'
"Seriously if you continue to do that, your eyebrows will merge. It'll look like a fat, fuzzy caterpillar~~~"
'That's it! Screw this bloody meeting! I'll strangle that frog and castrate him right where he sits!'
I was about to punch the frog on the face when I felt it. A cold, shuddering feeling. I glance around the room, immediately checking if Russia was staring at me AGAIN. I looked over to the part of the table where he sits. He was scaring the shit out of Latvia, honestly I'm glad my house is nowhere near his or I swear I would have gone nuts. He doesn't seem to notice me staring, 'I could just turn away..slightly…'Too late. He noticed. 'Hell isn't he not paranoid or what.' He smiled at me with that scare-the-shit-out-of-people smile of his.' Screwthat, I forgot he's not paranoid…' He waved his hand to me. Most people would see it as a simple gesture of recognition but not when you're talking about Russia. 'He's just insane.'
I smiled at him too, grimaced, smiled… what's the difference. I tore my gaze away from him. Okay, it wasn't Russia. It couldn't be worst? Right…
America was still talking, nonsense obviously. Not him either. I looked around again scanning for that person… There I felt again! Where the hell is that feeling coming from?
I looked over at Germany. He looked as if he was seconds away from pushing off the American twat away from the podium, off the rostrum and possibly to kick him out the conference hall. I grinned at the thought. I turned my attention towards Italy. He was hard to miss, I mean with that relaxed, laid-back expression of his. It seems he's wandering his pasta dreamland, as usual. I left him be. I turned to the Asian countries. I saw China talking to South Korea, lecturing him about why you should not grope anyone especially not Russia of all people. Some nations are no longer paying attention to the blabbering git, doing their own thing, gossiping, pairing the male population of the nations with each other (Hungary and the rest of the female nations. Hmm~ is that Japan there too?), being weird (almost all nations). It seems that everything is normal here. Well at least the brand of normal we usually have which in other words, above-your-average-kind-of-weird. It seems nothing is amidst, nothing wrong, nothing misplaced…
I felt it again. That gaze that sends shivers through my body. I looked at the thermostat, maybe it's just cold here. '33 degrees Celsius. Rather warm isn't it?'But I still feel cold, it almost feels like…
I was dragged back to the scenario before me. France was looking rather concerned about my sudden silence. I tore my gaze away from him.
"Sod off, you smelly wine-bastard…" I must have sounded weird because he gave an expression of disbelief.
"Etes – vous bien, l' Angleterre?"
'Urgh, the pervert frog sounds so concerned right now. Why can't he just be quiet?' I tried to shut him out, and by the only way I know of. I ignored him. I didn't answer him nor looked back at him, tried to pay attention to South Korea who had now replaced America and I was having a hard time trying(the twat is discussing how giant robots were invented at Korea first, a sequel to America's previous bloody speech) I thought I was doing a good job ignoring him when…
A hand touched my forehead.
It was a slightly calloused hand. But it was warm and was a perfect contrast to the cold I'm feeling. I halfheartedly glared at the frog.
"Get your bloody hand off of me, you snail-sucking pervert! I growled at him."
"Mon Dieu, Angleterre. You don't have a fever. Is it a stomachache, mon amour?" I can see he was biting back a smirk.
I glowered at him.
"You, stupid wine bastard! Get you lecherous hand away from before you lose a finger, frog!"
"Ah~ England. Is it sexual tension? You know I can relieve it for you~" His face turned to a full blown mocking smirk. I could feel my face heating up.
I glared at him, wishing that he'll combust any second now. I can still feel the heat on my face, my blush must be noticeable because I saw the bloody frog's smirk get bigger. The two of us snarled at each other, engaging into a staring war. Each glaring the other down, not wishing to back down. We both stubbornly kept each other into our heated gaze. His hand on my shoulder now. I glared at him harder.
"France, get your hand off of him."
A silky, smooth tenor voice broke my thoughts on how much I want to bloody murder the frog, cement his body and throw it to the bottom of the Atlantic Ocean, to the very bottom of Davy Jones' locker.
I felt France tense at the sound of the voice. It is evident he knew and recognized who's the owner of the voice was and is…
Scared? Afraid? Nervous?
The room was on a standstill. South Korea stopped blabbering, looking rather disappointed at the audience he lost. Germany looked intrigued by something I couldn't fathom. Hungary looked at me not paying attention to the unknown male, her face full of concern. Denmark looked a little shocked but Norway which was sitting next to him sported an expression of knowing and obvious worry. Something like, "I knew this was coming sooner or later". I raised an eyebrow at him. Then I noticed most countries we're staring, apparently drawn by the commotion the European countries we're looking at. Well, at least most of them. Greece is still sleeping on his chair and Italy is still wandering his Pasta Dreamland.
I looked at the unknown man that everyone seems to be so concerned about. He wore a black velvet coat, obviously tailor-made. A silk cravat adorned by a pin of ruby, I think. And a silly hat on his light brown/semi-blond hair, slightly out of placed and it didn't really served any "practical" purpose. I'm sure it's just meant to be an accessory. His coat was consisted of black and red hues. He was obviously taller than me (hell, most nations are) but for only a few centimeters. But the most distinctive thing was his blood-red irises. The two orbs were flaring, with a glint of something I don't even want to know. It reminded me of warm blood, flaming and warm blood coursing through my veins which now grew cold, staring at this man.
He was staring at France(just staring, I'm not sure if it can be considered as a glare due to the cold look on his eyes and his face on a lax, kind of poker face expression.) He then looked at me, boring his ruby-red eyes into my own emerald ones. From all my experience as an old nation, from being Britannia to being the British Empire down to being degraded as the United Kingdom, I knew whether I was compromising a situation. I had a special instinct to know if I was in any danger, that's how I am able to survive for this long. And right now I felt that I was in real danger. I felt goosebumps on my skin. Shivers run through my body, hair on the back of my neck rising. Hell, I was stunned. I was scared.
I tore my gaze away from him and looked for something to lessen the fear building in me. I spotted Italy. He had the same laid-back look on his face. I thanked God for Italy, he's helped me calm down a bit.
"Mon cher Romania?"
I heard the frog murmured as he lowers his hand, removing it just as the man ordered. Romania, that is his name. Where the hell did I heard that before? (Old age must be getting to me)
"Zi buna pentru a tine, Franta." The man said to France with a cold, slightly bitter voice.
"Je pensais que vous etiez malade…" France staring at Romania, beads of cold sweat forming on his forehead.
"Sau asa ai crezut…" the man added to France's statement adding to the anxiety the French must be feeling. Romania said this with a very cold feeling on his voice, face devoid of emotions.
Again I felt France tense. I was going to laugh at him when I realized…
There wasn't anything funny here. Even if the frog was at the end of his wits, I still couldn't find it funny. And it seems I'm not the only who was in this predicament.
A lot of nations despise France. That is a well known fact. It is the same to me or even worse. France never attained the status of an empire. No, he might have been a treat but he wasn't as worse as I was. I was the proud owner of the seven seas, the nation that almost conquered the world. I'm the former British Empire, keyword being 'former'. France hasn't even reached half of the list I did (okay, maybe I'm being conceited here) when I became independent from him. I made Spain's beloved Armada sink to the Davy Jones' locker. I was known as the bastard pirate nation that pillaged and discovered new lands, stole precious treasures and had the world under my feet. These all being in the past but the world will never really forget it and a lot of nations are still bitter about it. Though France was not always far behind me. He also gained lots of enemies in his long life as a nation. I knew that and exploited it for my own use. I still remember the Austrian succession.
So what I'm saying is that a lot of nations hated, still hated the French nation and would just love to see France lose that arrogant glamour of his. Though no one seems to be showing it that well except for Germany, who was now looking at the tensed France with the same look he wore during the WWII. I know the German despised the French to his very core. How the hell did France pissed Germany off was a complete mystery to me but I guess it wasn't hard to be pissed off at the frog, after all I sometimes become pissed off by the Frenchman by just looking at him.
Romania was staring at France without any hints of emotion. Though I couldn't see why France is this tense. Romania was just staring at him with that cold, calculating poker faced expression of his.
I expected Germany to stop this silent oppression already. Clearly Romania is winning. France was no match against him (though France didn't really fight back.) I glanced at the rest of the countries. Hungary was still looking at me with concern, Prussia seems to want jump in and help the frog though Austria was holding him down. Switzerland was in front of Liechtenstein, not wanting her to join this commotion. Denmark and Norway looking at me, a look on their faces is saying that we'll have a long chat after this. Most of the Asian countries looked curious at this. I looked at Hong Kong, he was looking at me with that curious expression that I rarely see (most of the time he looks bored). I slightly blushed from all the attention.
What's creepy was that Ukraine was shooting me a look of dread. I was surprised. The woman was not close to me nor would I even want to get close to her. Don't get me wrong, I find Ukraine a very nice person but I was never close or even tried to associate myself with anyone who borders Russia. I happen to know that they tend have some "problems". Starting with Russia, I must admit that I'm scared of him, for reasons any sane country would have. What can I say? Russia is just goddamn scary. If I find Russia scary, I think Belarus is terrifying. Belarus is the only thing/person that can send Russia running back home, tail tucked between his legs. I understand why Russia is scared of his little sister, I mean having someone stalk you and just jump out of the shadows yelling "let's get married!" is pretty damn scary. And even if Ukraine seems to be the most normal out of the three siblings, I would never dream of getting close to her. Being close to Ukraine would mean being dangerously close to her insane brother and homicidal sister. And I was already having "problems" fending Russia off, I cannot afford having Belarus breathing down my neck too.
Strangely, (or maybe I should be horrified) Belarus was standing at Ukraine side, holding her hand to comfort her. Her gaze was centered at her sister when she turned to look at me. Her normally cold expression is marred by a look of thoughtfulness (very creepy) then turned to stare at Russia, then back to her sister again. Russia was the only one looking normal. He smiled when he noticed I was staring at him, though there was a sharp look on his eyes. Then he looked at Romania. Unlike the others, it wasn't fear I saw in his eyes. It was annoyance, a rare emotion to see in the giant nation. Normally he would just show that scary smile of his to anyone that pissed him off, not tainted with any emotions, just plain intimidating smile. Now, the look on his face is showing annoyance. As if Romania dared to eye his beloved scarf and was annoyed of someone looking at what was his. I really should stop analyzing people's faces…
And America was being just America. I could hear him shouting "Whatta fuck is freakin goin on here?" I cringed. I was appalled at his grammar. I would make sure to lecture him after this meeting about him butchering the English language. But seriously I should have thought him to read the atmosphere, that stupid wanker. Wait, what kind of atmosphere is this anyway? I do not know it as well to be honest. I feel like a big dunce. Romania broke me away from my musings.
"I just interrupted Franta because Anglia looked uncomfortable. He was looking rather ill already. No need to pummel me with those looks." Romania said looking at the rest of the world, evidently vexed.
I saw some nations relaxed and some lose interest, disappointed at the rather normal reason. They sat back down to their chairs. Well, not really all countries relaxed. Most of the countries that remained taut were the European countries. Hungary shot Romania with a look of crystal-clear disbelief. Denmark and Norway showed their discord as well. Belarus relaxed but Ukraine did not. She remained fixed on her concerned expression. Russia's expression turned into a horrible sneer. (I think I must have gasped) He looked like he was refusing to be played. He must have notice my sharp gasp because he looked at me with that creepy smile of his. I looked up at France. It is obvious he didn't buy it, it even made him tenser than before.
"What the fuck is going on here!" America shouted.
That insufferable noise broke the still tense atmosphere. I looked at America. He was confused and didn't like to be left out. 'He always tried to be the hero'. A vein snapped at my head.
"Be quiet you bloody git!"
I responded, resisting the urge to strangle him. To my surprise, he looked at me with happy eyes, obviously happy that I paid attention at him. 'He really has a large ego'. Is that a look of satisfaction I spot at his eye? Now what could he be satisfied for?
It seems my outcry broke the remaining tension. The rest of the nations reclined, though some reluctantly. I put my hand on France's shoulder, I felt his uneasiness lessen. He gave me a grimace as he sat.
"Ahem… back to your seats people." It was Germany's authoritative voice.
I sat back to my chair. I could still feel eyes on me. I do not want to know who those belong or are belonging to. I have an inkling it was more than one pair of eyes. (I was bloody sure I'll see Russia with that creepy smile of his and I had absolutely enough of it for today)
I felt it again. That cold, shuddering feeling. It was different from the other nations gaze and was slightly different from Russia's gaze. I looked up, turning to a definite direction, this time knowing where to exactly look. I looked up at Romania. Sure enough, he was staring at me. Ruby-red straight to my emerald-green eyes. He was smiling. It looked feral. His smile widening, his incisors (they look goddamn like tiny fangs to me or was I just paranoid) showing. I looked away, forcing myself to listen to South Korea, who was so darn happy to continue his self-gratifying speech. I still feel those eyes on me. Maybe it was better when I didn't know where the bloody feeling came from. Well they do say that, regrets always come at the end, never in the beginning.
What England(and the rest of the world) didn't notice was that Romania was licking his lips as if seeing something delicious coming his way. He looked at the clock. Only a few hours before the scheduled lunch break. Oh, he'll be having lunch alright. He looked again at the Briton trying desperately to pay attention to the Asian nation speaking. Romania gave an amused chuckle, not loud enough to disturb other countries but enough to please him. He then turned his eyes to the window, deciding he should give his prey some break. He is such a nice person.
Mon petit England- my little England
Etes – vous bien, l' Angleterre?- are you alright England?
Mondieu, Angleterre- I'm not really sure what mondieu meant but I think it's a French expression for oh my or something like that.
mon amour-my love
Mon cher, Romania?- my dear, Romania?
Zi buna pentru a tine, Franta- good day to you, France.
Je pensais que vous etiez malade…- I thought you were sick…
Sau asa ai crezut…- or so you thought…
Next chapter coming soon. I will try to wrap it out on the next chapter or maybe expand the series. Please review, it will help a lot since I'm a beginner.