"'re ye sure thi' is th' righ' thin' to do for Pet'r?"
Yeah, I'm sure. He hates me
he obviously doesn't want to come here every weekend, so we should make him." the door banged open, revealing the two men talking to a small boy. The small boy only looked around 13 years old, dressed in a pale blue and white sailor costume. Normally bright and large blue eyes scrunched up in confusion.
"Papa, Jerk, whatcha doing?" They turn to face the little boy, the taller of the two walks over to him and crouches down; the other - shorter man - hangs back with sadness clouding his face.
"Nothin' Pet'r, we're jus' leavin'. Say goodb'e t' Arth'r" The tall man stands back up and walks out of the room, leaving the other two alone, an awkward silence left in his wake.
" the elder of the two left in the room spoke "
" he quickly strode over to the boy and enveloped him in a hug, which was not reciprocated "I'll miss you, Peter. But this is best for you." he pulls away, and stares at the boy. The boy stares back, then turns and follows his adoptive father.
*8 Years Later*
I can't believe it. I - Sealand - am FINALLY a recognised country. I'm brimming with excitement, because this is my first "Official" world meeting. Rocking on the balls of my feet, I stare into the wall length mirror. I now stand at 5" 10', my blonde hair has darkened to a dark golden colour and just covering my bright blue eyes. My face has lost most of it's baby fat, leaving it angular. Sadly, my beasts of eyebrows are still huge. My shoulders are broader, and are more prominent in my black suit jacket. Beneath it is a plain white tee shirt. On my legs are a pair of baggy dark wash jeans and a pair of black converse. Running my hands down the jacket, removing any creases, I drag my mind to the unrequited love of my life. "Who is it?" I hear you ask. Well
this person is-
"C'mon Peter, the meeting's going to start in 5 minutes." Shouts Tino - My mum - through the closed door.
"Coming mum" I shout back, glancing into the mirror one more time, then walk out my hotel room to join my adoptive parents.
"Ahh, don't you look so handsome!" Gushes Finland, enveloping me in a hug. I struggle.
Finland, get off" My voice is muffled against the Finn's chest.
"Finl'nd, let go o' Pet'r or we'll be lat'." Sweden pulls Finland away, and grabs the arm of my jacket - then starts to drag us downstairs to the meeting room.
When did I fall in love? Well
I can't really pin it to one memory. However, I know one of the short list. I was sat in his back garden, relaxing in the rare sun, when I feel someone's gaze on me. Turning to look in the direction, I see him. Bruises, bite marks and old cuts litter his uncovered chest and back, making him look fragile. As he walks over to me, I notice a small limp in his step. I shouldn't of reacted the way I did, I know that now.
"Urgh! Cover up Jerk, no one wants to see your hideous self" He blushed in response and rushes back inside, in search of a tee shirt. Looking back now, I can remember how perfectly sculpted and slender he was - and most probably still is.
"Peter, dude! You look 'mazin'! looking forward to ya first world meetin'?" Uncle Mattias shouts to me, running over to join us, jumping on my papa's back. Papa aims an exasperated look at the Dane, which is promptly ignored.
"Thanks Uncle Mattias" I murmur in response, embarrassed. Together, the four of us walk through the double doors into the room where the meeting. Inside, all the other nations are bunched together in groups catching up and just talking. I scan the room, in search of one person. I see them
I'd recognise that unruly mop of blonde hair and crisp green military uniform anywhere.
"Hello England" walking up to him, I place a hand on his shoulder. This action makes him jump and stop mid-rant.
Peter? Is that really you?" his large eyebrows scrunch up in confusion. How cute.
"Yeah, who else would it be Art?" I reply, smiling at him. Without warning, I launch myself at the former British Empire, wrapping my arms around his waist, sending us to the floor. Almost straight away, he snakes his arms around my neck.
"It's good to see you lad. I'm surprised you've grown so much in 8 years, but that's probably due to you actually becoming a nation. Congratulation by the way." He buries his head in my neck. I feel him smile, which makes my smile broader and brighter. It's only then what, um
we're in. (A.N. Giggity giggity goo!) Arthur on his back, holding onto me tightly - and me in between his legs on my front. There were a lot of catcalls and wolf whistles - mostly from France - directed at us. Begrudgingly, I pull myself out of England's arms and sit - still between his legs - on my knees. He too sits up, blood spreading across his face in embarrassment. Standing up, I hold my hand out for Arthur to grab onto, which he does. As he pulls himself up, he stumbles and falls into me. We share eye contact for what seems like hours.
"Once you two have finished your
reunion, please get to your respective seats." Damn that Germany! Why did he have to spoil the moment! We pull away from the other, embarrassed. We both head for our seats, that happen to be next to each other, much to my delight. As the meeting get up and running, I scribble a note to Arthur.
Peter - Fancy getting a bite to eat after the meeting? Just the two of us?
I sneek a glace to the side, to see England's face grow to the colour of a ripe tomato. But, this change in the colour of his face also is seen by Germany.
"Anything you'd like to share, Arthur?"
Arthur clears his throat "Nothing, Ludwig. Carry on." He wait's a couple of minutes until replying
Arthur - That's sounds good. It'll give us a chance to catch up.
Peter - Great! It's a date then!
I smile to myself.
*After the meeting*
"Ready to go Art" I turn to him after packing away my papers, giving him a genuine smile.
yes. And my name is Arthur, not Art." He sends me an angry look, or though it has no venom to it, which I simply laugh at in response
"'Cause it is Art. C'mon, I know the perfect place." I bow to him, which earns me a mock curtsy in response, then hold my arm out to him. He tilts his head to the side - an extremely adorable sight - and raises an eyebrow, then takes the offered arm and walk out of the room.
The restaurant that I had had in mind was only a 5 minute walk from the hotel and highly recommended by Papa and Uncle Mattias.
"It's where Berwald confessed" Smiled Mattias, squeezing Papa's hand.
"The spaghetti and meatballs are meant to be second to none here." I whisper in his ear, sending shivers down his spine.
"I-I-I'll have to t-try it then" He replies back, his voice as low as mine was, obviously flustered by the close contact. We reach the restaurant, light painted ivy covered building with its large bay windows thrown open as if trying to temp cool air inside. I push open the door, holding it for Arthur - Who mutters a small "Thank you" to me, then follow him through.
"Benvenuti, signori! (Welcome, sirs!)" A homely woman, bounds towards us with a couple of menus under one arm.
"Ciao signora, un tavolo per due per favore. Preferibilmente al di fuori (Hello Madame, a table for two please. Preferably outside)" I politly ask the woman, who seems impressed that I know her language. She nods then motions for us to follow her. Lightly, I pull at Arthur's hand, getting him to follow.
since when did you know Italian?" Arthur quietly asks me
"Ma, I mean Finland made me learn" I reply as I pull his chair out for him. After showing us to our table, the woman lays down the two menus in front of us.
"So" Art says "why did you invite me here?" Straight and to the point, as always.
"Because I want to catch up with ya Art"
"That's not the real reason"
"That is the real reason"
"It's not the only reason though"
"What makes you believe that?" We glare at each other for moments, then simultaneously hide our faces behind our respective menus. It isn't for around 10 minutes until the silence is broken.
you wrote "It's a date" in one of the messages" I hear Arthur mutter, then fall back into silence.
Don't you want this to be a date?" I whisper back. I can feel my face heat up, so I hide my face further into the menu. The woman who showed us to our table then chooses the time to ask for our orders.
"Spaghetti and meatballs, per favore" I ask
"Same for me please"
"Bevande? (Drinks?)" The woman asks.
"Chianti 1995 per favore" she smiles at the two of us, and walks away again, leaving us in silence.
how 'bout this weather then
" I say nervously, trying to break the ice again. However, this does earn me a short bark of laughter. He should laugh more, and smile more. We spend the 15 minutes that it takes for our food to arrive. We dig in.
"You were right, this Spaghetti and Meatballs is the best I've ever tasted" England looks up from his food, this is when I notice a smudge of sauce on his cheek. On impulse, I lean over the table and gently lick the sauce away. Once I'm seated in my seat, I continue eating my meal. I hear him splutter, then start coughing. It takes a further 20 minutes for both of us to finish our meals.
" I hear a mumble from Arthur.
"Maybe I do want this to be a date" He repeats, a little louder.
"Sorry, I didn't hear that"
"I SAID THAT MAYBE I WANT THIS TO BE A DATE YOU THICK SKULLED MORON!" He snaps at me. This just makes me chuckle. I also get up from my seat, and walk up to him. Anger still etched on his face.
"Good" I simply state. I loop a arm around his waist and one around his neck and pull him into a deep kiss. At first he struggles, then melts into it, wrapping his arms around my neck; pulling me closer. Begrudgingly, I pull away.
"You look cute when your angry" I whisper to him, as I rest my forehead against his. I can literally feel his face heat up.
"Shut up and kiss me"
*The next morning*
"Morning all" an unusually bright voice - most would have thought it to belong to the Northern half of Italy - of England sounded throughout the conference room. All eyes focus on him. Almost instantly, everybody notices the small limp in his step.
"Ohononono! L'Angletterre got some" France jumps up and latches himself onto my England. Jealousy raises it's ugly head as I see the Frog go in to whisper something into Art's ear. Art looks extremely distressed; therefore I sigh, stand up and walk over to France and England, pull Art from Francis' hold and pull him behind me.
"Sit back down, Frog, or I'll kick you into next week." I growl, narrowing my eyes at the Frenchman. Feeling Art snake one of his hands in one on mine, I give his a comforting squeeze. Sensing the danger of ww3 breaking out, America and Germany stand up and head towards the Frog, Art and myself.
"DUUUUUUDDDDDDDDDEEEEEEE! What's the hubbub 'bout?" We all ignore America
"Please head to your seats, or leave, it's up to you." Instructs the German. I halt my glaring at Francis and look at Ludwig.
"Okay!" I chirp in response to him, and pull Art out of the room with me. He did not struggle one bit, only laugh at my eagerness. Once we leave the building, the Brit I'm dragging along digs his heels into the ground, sending me sprawling to the ground.
"Hey! What was that for?" He asks (In other words
yells at) me.
"Germany said get to our seats or leave
so we left" I answer him back sheepishly. He hits me upside the head, making me moan in pain.
"Well, sinse we're out here
what should we do?"
I have a few ideas"