(Hetalia Fanfiction) When Alberta visits her cousin America and friends, she's got to expect a hell load of chaos, but she's got to be surprised when she gets some Vodka Kisses...
The birds chirped and serenaded the world before me as I traced my pencil all over the sketchpad that sat upon my lap. On the page, a rather detailed image of my cousins, America and his brother, Canada(holding his little bear, whom of which is adorable). They're the only people I consider family, and the only family I talk to. America's the spontaneous adventure I always need in my life, and Canada's the one that can keep me interested with his stories and make me feel important with my "good advice."
As I started to fall into a day dream, I'm awoken to the movement in my hand, my pencil slipping from between my fingers. It fell from the tree and I had to climb down to get it. As I swung down from the branch, I was alarmed by someone touching my shoulder. Thinking I was alone, I ended up backhanding America, who looked rather shocked at my hostility.
"Oh lord, I'm so sorry!" I bursted out, attending my cousin, who held his cheek in surprise. "You should really learn not to sneak up on people, America." I chuckled.
"It's fine," he says, returning to his normal smiley expression. "the guys and I just finished the conference, and we're heading out to lunch! My treat! Wanna come?"
I smiled. McDonalds. I thought. I can't refuse an offer from my relative, so I nod and grabbed my pencil and notebook. "Hell yeah!" I exclaimed.
"Great!" he shouted, snatching my wrist and starting to run off with me.
I stumbled around like a rag doll trying to find my footing, I was really unbalanced and was just praying I wasn't going to trip on the dirt, and thankfully I didn't. I was soon able to gain proper footing without falling over or anything, even if America was pulling me along behind him oblivious to my troubles. As we ran, he took me around to the front of a building where a black stretched hummer sat with tall Russia, silent China, a flustered England and impatient France standing around it waiting for America to come back.
"Hey guys! Look who's coming with us!" America yelled excited.
"Alfred, you don't have to shout--"
"AMERICA!" screamed France, interrupting Britain. "Zat is not how you hold a voman's hand!" France stomped up and gently grabbing my hand and holding them sweetly. "You hold a voman's hand softly and sweetly, then you look into her eyes, and lean in gently and..."
As France puckered his lips a little too close for comfort for me, I managed to slip out from him and hide behind Russia, who seemed obliged to hide me while England slapped the back of France's head.
"Anyways," America smiled. "let's go!" he gestured everyone to get into the vehicle, practically hurrying them. He got into the driver's seat, and adjusted the mirror, the seat, and felt ready.
The ride was amusing. I volunteered to sit in the back with the boys, and France decided to sit in the front because he said that it "made him feel cool." I didn't get it, but I ignored it. Russia was laying down on the seats that was spread out on the left of the car, considering they lined up on the wall. I sat beside Russia's head, and China while England relaxed in the corner. England and France were practically battling it out verbally since they couldn't exactly move around, and their arguments are actually rather amusing. The simplicity of their differences just make me want to laugh out loud, to be honest.
"Alfred," England said. "where are we going exactly?"
It wasn't very hard to think about this one, and knowing America too much for too long really makes you start reading his mind, practically.
"McDonalds," he and I said. He looked at me through the mirror.
"How'd you know?" he asked, a smile on his face like usual.
I chuckled. "I read minds," I said. I could hear England chuckling in the corner and Russia trying not to giggle beside me.
France burst out laughing, saying "Amérique, tu es si stupide!"
I unbuckled my seat belt and slapped France. "Be polite, you overgrown perverted brute!"
France shut his mouth, and stopped laughing at my cousin's obliviousness.
"You really do know how to eat fancy, Alfred." England remarked.
Sitting back in my seat, I reached over China's lap and flicked his knee.
"Thanks British dude!"
I will admit, I laughed at that later. Usually America isn't that oblivious to sarcasm, but it was just too good.
Soon enough, we pulled into the McDonald's parking lot, and immediately found a parking space. We all got out of the large car, me getting out from the sunroof. On the top, I jumped and suddenly I was caught by Russia, who was caught off balance for just moments until China helped him regain stability. He put me down and I thanked him, even though I didn't intend for anyone to catch me. I think I ended up blushing though...
As we entered the resturant, France was kind enough to hold the door open for us, but wasn't going to hold it open for England, who was the last in our little line. Poor England. Anyways, China immediately went to go find a nice table for us, a booth with a view. He told me the other day he can't stand being near fast food counters or something.
"The smell of the food gives me a headache," I think he said.
Russia and I decided to follow America in line when a shiver ran down my spine. I didn't notice that there was AC until now.
"It's a little cold in here," I said, rubbing my arms to try and warm myself up.
"Here, take my coat." Offered both England and France at the same time.
"No, take mine," insisted England. "he's been wearing that coat for ages... doesn't look like it's been washed once..."
"Pfft!" sighed France. "your coat's tacky and definitely out of style. And for your information, I've washed this coat plenty of times."
"Once every nine months!" spurred England.
As the two argued in the restaurant, I felt the heaviness of a large, furry coat be placed on my shoulders. I looked up and behind me to see Russia smiling down at me. I thanked him, and pushed my arms into the long sleeves before sniffing the jacket to smell the sweet scent of vodka.
"Guys," called Russia. "stop arguing. You're a little late now." He pointed to me and I waved with the large coat on. They glared at each other before leaving to follow China.
"Thanks, Ivan," I said. "do they always do this?"
He nodded. "It's nothing new really. It's always best to keep them away from each other. Sometimes I find it funny that they're in an alliance."
I smiled in agreement. "They are quite funny, aren't they?"
He chuckled and scoped the room as I continued waiting.
"Hey, Alberta!" called America. "whaddiya want?"
I thought about it for a minute. The fries were too salty, the burgers too greasy. Not a big fan of the wraps or the salads. Not much of a lunch, but... "a Reese McFlurry."
He looked at me oddly before turning to the cashier lady and telling her my order.
"Me too. Doesn't look like there's anything digestible other than the icecream..."
I nod. "I agree."
Moments later, we bring the fast food to the table France, England, and China are seated, and we join them. Alfred scarfed down his food like some wild animal, eating noisily, and England looked at him in disgust as he examined his fries. France didn't seem to mind the salad, and China poked at the chicken balls with a chopstick in an equal amount of disgust that England had on HIS face. Russia was satisfied with his ice-cream, and began to compare the ice-cream to his home, saying that Russia's still colder than the McFlurry.
I giggled at that.
We conversed about many things, and I could tell they were trying to hide something from me. Probably something from the council. After moments of conversation filling our booth, China decided to finally speak up about today's lunch choice.
"These barely-edible morsels are a disgrace to food," he complained, still poking at the chicken. "to be honest, England could cook better than this."
England glared at China, then sighed and nodded in agreement. "He's got a point."
America, who seemed a little insulted that his choice of food wasn't good enough for them, looked at his food and continued eating a little slower. I hate it when he does that. Makes me feel bad.
I lifted my hand, still holding the spoon. "Hey, let's say I choose tomorrow?" I offered. "Better yet, I'll cook."
They all smiled, and agreed to my volunteering offer. Looks like I'll be cooking tomorrow...
The stars, they glimmer as I stare at each and everyone with curiosity, wondering what it'd be like to hold one in my hand or be able to fly past each living star. It was at least ten past midnight, or, that's at least what it felt like. China and England were already asleep by ten o'clock, France is still probably applying beauty sleep stuff(I swear, I think he's gay or something), America's doing... America things, and Russia... probably terrifying the shit out of people or Alfred... who knows? I sure as hell don't. I've been on the roof for an hour, stargazing and playing the violin that sits on my shoulders and sings a song of happiness as the bow wanders back and forth on the strings.
Now that I think about it, Russia has been quite... attached to me. He's been so friendly. I've heard that he'll bite your head off if you don't do something right... but then again... that was just some rumor I overheard on my way here. He doesn't look like he'd hurt a fly, to be honest. He's just a big old teddy bear to me. He caught me when I jumped off the car, he lent me his coat when I was cold, and he actually talks to me unlike the others, as if they've never spoken to an actual girl before, except for America. Then Russia finally speaks up and talks to me, then protects me...
"That song..." muttered a song from behind. "when you play like that I can read what you're saying, da?"
Startled, I overshot a note on the violin. I didn't have to turn around to know it was Russia because I could smell him behind me. I turned and faced him. "What do you mean?" I asked, gesturing him to sit down beside me.
"The song you were playing was all happy and warm, then all of a sudden the music became rather depressing with a hint of lovesickness." He explained. "What's on your mind?" He gave me a look, a concerned look, and he wasn't leaving my eyes, not even looking down at my boobs like all guys seem to do. Especially France.
I blushed at my silliness. I must've stopped paying attention and my emotions must've been transferred into my fingers. I smile nervously and say, "it's nothing. Honest to god."
He nodded, looking a little disappointed. He turned to the sky and laid himself back to relax. "Please, keep playing. It's beautiful."
I blush harder, and grin. I place the instrument back up in playing position, and soon enough notes just flew out like no tomorrow. Effortlessly letting my thoughts become music as if it was like breathing. Excitement builds up, happier notes, prettier playing. I think at one point I just ended up playing faster and faster because that's how fast my heart was beating. It was my metronome, and it just kept going quicker and quicker, so that's how fast my beats were played. My fingers grew tired, and I had to finish off quickly before my heart burst into a million pieces. I stopped quickly with a finale of notes, and Ivan just grinned at my talent.
"That was beautiful," he complimented. "I swear I saw the stars dancing."
I giggled. "Oh really?"
He nodded, and sat up. "Nisku, you are truly amazing..." he whispered.
That put thoughts back in my mind, and temptation certainly overtook me. "Russia, I want to ask you a question--"
"I promise I'll answer anything."
I smile. "Do you... like me?"
He stopped and blushed for a second. His eyes dilated at the question and sighed. "I guess I made it clear, didn't I?"
I placed my hand on his knee. Now that I think about it... his adorable charm really has affected me in a way that made me oblivious until now. I think... I think...
I put my finger on his chin and forced him to face me. His purple eyes glittered at me and I said, "Don't be afraid, Ivan..."
We started leaning in for each other, anxious for just a kiss. We got so close, so incredibly close when...
"OH MY FUCKING GOD!" screamed a shocked America, who poked his head out from the window below and saw us just centimetres away from contact. "HOLY FUCKING SHIT GUYS!"
"America!" Growled Russia, ready to punch my cousin.
I was ready to punch him too, but I was more settled than Russia was. "Russia, leave him to me." As I set my instrument down and stood up, I turned and jumped off the ledge, grabbing the gutter as I swung into his room through the window.
I saw him in the corner snickering, a light pressing up to his face. "This is going on facebook!"
"America..." I snarled.
He jumped and turned around. "H-h-h-hhiiiii Nisku... How's it going?" he studdered. He knows he should be afraid of me... considering I'm stronger than he is.
I noticed the cell phone behind his back, or whatever it was. Something with a camera! Slapping America quickly, I manage to grab the device from him faster than lightning. There it was, the picture of Russia and I just a lips' distance from each other. My face burned a deep red, and without hesitation, I deleted the picture and removed the battery from the camera. I gave him a look as if saying, "I dare you to do it again," and I climbed out the window and back onto the roof where Russia sat with his legs dangling taking a drink out of a vodka bottle.
He opened his eyes and smiled at me. "Did you kick him?" He asked with a chuckle.
I shook my head. "I would've if he was standing by the window." I replied, sitting back down beside him. "So... where were we--!"
Before I could say anything else, Russia finally kissed me without delay. He tasted like the Vodka from his bottle, and it was just so gentle, so soft... nothing you'd expect from a man like Russia... actually, from my perspective... you would. With each and every kiss, we got a little more physical. My fingers played in his silver hair and he cradled me like a baby. This moment couldn't have gotten any better...