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Hetalia - Christmas Party Ch.1

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The outdoor landscape was quiet, serene, and undisturbed in the mid-afternoon day. Big, fluffy snow-flakes fell, blanketing the earth, trees, and everything in sight with a coat of brilliant, sparkling white that would later hurt to look at in the dazzling sun.

Indoors, Alfred F. Jones looked out the window in horror, face contorted into one of exaggerated agony and frustration. Every few minutes or so, this expression would melt into an over-grown pout as he stared at the fluffy white flakes with crossed arms.

"This is terrible," he declared in the darkest tone he could muster. "This is an absolute disaster."

Behind him, his lesser half sat curled up on the couch with a book, thumb pressed into the page to mark where he left off as he looked up at his older brother.

"It's just a little snow," Matthew remarked softly, blinking curiously out the window to see if he had missed some sign of impending doom. Alfred turned away from the window with a flourish of his arms, expression grim as he faced the younger nation.

"How am I supposed to throw a party in these conditions, Mattie?" the nickname ruined the dramatic tone. "No one's going to want to come here with THAT going on outside!"

He emphasized what he meant by waving his arms around above his head. Matthew thought he was trying to imitate a helicopter.

"It's just a little snow," he repeated after a moment of silence during which Alfred stared him down seriously. Matthew shifted uncomfortably under the gaze, glancing down at his book. Deciding that his brother wasn't going to stop making a big deal of the "horrible" weather, he tried a different approach. "I'm sure they won't mind, Alfred. No one will blame you for the snow."

Alfred sighed dramatically and turned away, stalking toward the window again and staring out with despair.

"I can't believe it's snowing," he huffed, and Matthew almost rolled his eyes. Almost.

"It's December," he mumbled from the couch, tone as close to sarcastic as it would ever get and voice so soft he doubted Alfred even heard him.

"Why would it snow?" the older nation continued, just as dramatic. Obviously he hadn't heard his brother's mumble. Surprise.

"Don't you still have preparations? Everyone should start arriving soon," Matthew interjected dutifully, now back to reading his book. Alfred jumped, looking at the clock with an equally dramatic expression before dashing off to the kitchen, yelling about all the things he had left to do that he had procrastinated on. Matthew sighed, looking at the polar bear seated next to him.

"I don't know what to do about him, Kumajiro."

---

Russia walked in silence, watching the snow fall in front of him as he went along his way.

"I'm sure Alfred is fretting over this snow," he looked to his left, then right, smiling slightly. "I can't wait to see his face contorted in anguish. The snow here is so calm in comparison, though."

He couldn't understand why America hated the snow so much. It wasn't as though he got a lot of it. He shook his head as he looked down at the bag he was carrying; in it, some vodka, Russian shortbread cookies and the gift for his Secret Santa. He supposed it would be a fun night so decided he would accept the invite and go. He hoped he wasn't wrong, otherwise he'd have to return to his family's celebrations. He shuddered thinking of his younger sister trying to rape him while he was drunk on festivities.

Reaching Alfred's front door, he pressed his thumb onto the doorbell next to the door and waited for his response.

Alfred stuck his head out of the kitchen, a smear of flour on his cheek as he looked wildly about the living room.

"Mattie. Get the door, will you?" he didn't wait for a response before disappearing into the kitchen again, and Matthew sighed. He dog-eared the page of his book, taking it to the shelf beside the fire place. While there, he placed another log on the bright flames, smiling for a moment before moving toward the door. Unlatching the deadbolt, he swung the door open to be greeted with a solid wall of tan jacket at eye-level. Looking upward, he felt the color drain from his face and his voice die in his throat. Stepping aside slightly, he silently beckoned the larger nation into the house, swinging the door shut with a soft click behind him. He quickly scampered off toward his seat on the couch, calling out toward the kitchen as he went.

"A-Alfred! Russia's here!" he called to his brother, uncomfortable with the thought of using the intimidating man's name so freely. Alfred poked his head out of the kitchen again with a small grin, waving to the new arrival.

"Hey, Ivan! Make yourself comfortable, I'm just finishing up with some of the food now. Would you like something to drink?" he rambled all of this off rather quickly, in Matthew's opinion, but the younger nation definitely heard the word 'drink' in there somewhere and felt a small amount of panic rise in his chest. He glanced from the towering country to the expanse of unoccupied couch next to him, then to Alfred and the word 'drink.'

'Nonononono, please no, Alfred, don't give him something to drink and let him sit next to me, no no no no...'

Russia looked around the room, honestly never having been into Alfred's home. Quaint and homely were the only words that came to Ivan's mind as he smiled slightly at the doorway where his host had been leaning out of.

"I've brought my own drink if that's alright, Alfred, along with some Russian cookies. Where would you like them?"

Hearing a new voice, Tony headed down the stairs of the home and into the living room. 'Ivan,' he had heard, but didn't necessarily care. He trotted himself over to the couch, sitting down next to Canada so as to save the younger North American country the dread of sitting next to the newcomer. He wasn't sure if Alfred gave him the go-ahead to come out when the guests were there, but he didn't see anything wrong with it. However, Alfred had said something about people not accepting the existence of 'extra-terrestrials.'

Matthew looked at Tony, surprised, and a small puff of a relieved sigh escaped his lips.

"Hi, Tony," he greeted softly, having seen the alien on a few occasions whilst visiting his older brother. He had found that the small man-like creature was actually rather good company, and easy to talk to. He was happy now that the alien had inadvertently saved him from having to sit next to Russia.

Alfred smiled charmingly and produced a tray from somewhere out of sight, setting it on the coffee table to display a number of assorted cookies from various countries.

"You can find a place for them on that tray, Ivan," he smiled, waving a hand at the tray before pausing, gaze flickering to Tony. Matthew looked to be extremely grateful to the alien for some reason, which confused Alfred, but he brushed it off. He worried for a moment about what Ivan would think of Tony before waving to grab the extra terrestrial's attention.

"Tony! Hi. Erm, could you give me a hand in the kitchen?" he asked with a dazzling smile before exiting into said room, not bothering to wait for a response. Matthew looked at Tony with tears in his eyes, as if to say, 'Please don't go,' but he knew that the other life form had to listen to Alfred.

Russia stared at Tony for a long moment, blinking quite innocently before a smile spread across his lips. He shrugged slightly, turning to the tray that Alfred had brought out. He tilted his head as he looked over all the different cookies, recognizing a few types. There were ones from France that he enjoyed, ones from England that no one enjoyed, but there were also strange red-striped ones shaped like leaves that he'd never seen. He dug into his bag, pulled out a small tin, popped it open and simply dumped them out on top of the others. He knew everyone liked his shortbread.

"There we go," he smiled, closing the tin back up and dropping it into his bag.

Tony watched him with mild interest. If he had had eyebrows, one probably would've been raised at the others' actions. He looked to his right, staring at Canada for a moment before hopping of the couch. He had wanted to stay and protect the weaker being but he also had an obligation to Alfred. He gently patted Matthew's shoulder as if to say everything would be alright before walking around the couch and disappearing into the kitchen.

Matthew stared at Tony as he left, feeling his lower lip start to quiver a bit, eyes still glistening with non-shed tears. After a time, he sniffled lightly and turned to the taller, more intimidating country who was still standing near the coffee table.

"H-hello, Mr. Russia," he greeted shakily, feeling an obligation to his brother to keep the guests entertained while he finished his preparations. "H-how are you today?"

In the kitchen, Alfred rushed around, putting things on platters and filling glasses with alcoholic drinks. Of the many trays of beer, wine, champagne, and other drinks, there was one that was strictly non-alcoholic, something he had made for his brother. Matthew was not a big drinker and did not hold his liquor very well, and Alfred felt he had a responsibility to keep his brother safe.

"Tony, I don't know how everyone will react to seeing you," he started as soon as the alien entered the kitchen. "It's not that I don't want you around, but what if they get scared or something? They might even try to hurt you."

He turned toward the alien and stared for a long moment before sighing softly.

"But you'll be okay, right? So you can stay down here with everyone as long as you want."

Turning away, he busied himself with something else, filling trays quickly and setting them aside. He glanced over his shoulder at his extra terrestrial friend and smiled.

"Could you take some of these full trays out to the tables, Tony?"

---

Meanwhile, at Germany's house...

Kiku pulled at the sleeve of a warm red sweater he'd been given by Italy. It was only slightly comfortable, seeing as though it was kind of itchy and the sleeves were a bit too short, but Italy had insisted that he wear it tonight to look more 'festive.' He didn't quite understand, but he had reluctantly agreed.

"Germany, Prussia!" he called up the stairs he was standing at the base of. "We're going to be late if you don't all hurry!" he itched at the collar of the sweater.

Ludwig pulled on his jacket, checking around his room a few times to make sure he had everything he needed. It's not as though he planned to stay long, but he wanted to be prepared.

He zipped up the jacket as he exited his room, heading down the hall toward the stairs where Kiku was shouting for them to hurry. He glanced back down the hall, wondering where Feliciano was and what he was up to before heading down the stairs, taking them two at a time and stopping briskly at the bottom. He paused to look at Kiku in the sweater Feliciano had insisted he wear, noting that the other man didn't look bad in it at all. It was a little ill-fitting, but the color was complimentary.

He greeted his companion with a nod, picking up a bag laying by the door that had all of their Secret Santa gifts in it, as well as some things the others had packed.

There was a thundering clatter from somewhere above, followed by suspicious silence before Gilbert came trotting down the stairs, head held high as he stuffed his hands into the pockets of his zipper-front hoodie.

"Heeey, West," he greeted his brother with a smug smile, the little chick on his shoulder doing a small hop to his head before getting comfortable in is hair. "You don't look very festive! Me, being how awesome I am, pulled out my good jeans for the occasion."

He grinned lopsidedly, looking down at the pants he was referring to before looking back up to his brother.

"Anyways, I'm here now, so we can go. I know you were waiting for the awesome me."

Kiku nodded to Germany and Prussia as each came down the stairs.

"Are you both ready then? Italy has already gone ahead," he looked back and forth between the two taller men, not understanding how they were possibly siblings. From what he'd seen they were quite different, but he supposed that they were a-like in some ways too.

Ludwig sighed softly, concerned that Feliciano would manage to get himself lost on the way to Alfred's if they didn't catch up with him soon. He nodded to the other two before heading out the door, trudging along in the light dusting of snow surrounding his house. He pulled his jacket closer as he walked, not entirely bothered by the cold, but having left the house wearing one of his sleeveless shirts.

Gilbert caught up with his younger brother quickly, jogging to catch up with the taller, constantly-brooding man. The little chick in his hair held on, bouncing as he jogged, and he reached up to hold it gently in place. He slowed as he caught up with his brother, reaching into a pocket of his zipper-front hoodie and pulling out a small strip of cloth which he wrapped gently around the little chick on his head, giving it a make-shift scarf. That done, he put a hand on his brother's shoulder, grinning as they walked together.

"I know what you're thinking," he started, tipping his head toward his brother as they trudged along in-unison. "But you shouldn't worry about little Italy getting lost all by his lonesome out here in the cold. I mean, what's the worst that could happen? He'll collapse from lack of pasta or something and get buried under the snow and you'll never see him again. But no big deal, right?"

Ludwig slowed his pace significantly, staring at the snow on the ground ahead of him, eyes flickering toward every lump that looked like it could be a curled up body. It wasn't that he was paranoid, no. It was that he believed that what his brother said could very easily happen, which would turn out to be very bad for him, somehow. Gilbert looked at his brother eying all of the snow drifts and sighed.

"Geez, West! He's fine. Look, see?" he prompted, pointing ahead to the figure of Feliciano, bouncing and waving at them in the distance, waiting for them to catch up. Ludwig sighed, and Gilbert couldn't decide whether it was from relief or disappointment.

"You shouldn't lie to your brother about Italy-kun, Prussia-san," Kiku had somehow managed to keep up with the fast paced brothers, only a few steps behind them now. He nodded a fraction, "It's likely he will believe anything."

It was true that Ludwig might believe anything about Italy but not for lack of cause. It was very rare that something bad didn't happen to Italy, and Ludwig was always the one to go and save him. Kiku could easily understand the frustration that the blond had to go through.

"Germany was worried about you, Italy-kun. Please don't run off on your own like that again," he explained and asked once they reached the bouncy brown haired man. Feliciano smiled in his typical space-cadet fashion and spun around in a circle, kicking up little puffs of powdery white snow. Ludwig sighed; today was going to be a long day.
This is an on-going role play between *miyakai, ~TakaraSasaki, ~Sykoekk, and ~ArianaUchiha.

In this chapter, only ~TakaraSasaki and I participate. This is a really fun thing for us, and I hope that we can keep it going and bring it to a satisfying end for anyone that wants to read it.

America, Canada, Prussia, and Germany are played by me. Russia, Tony, and Japan are played by ~TakaraSasaki.

All editing to bring this from role play to proper story was done by me. Hope you all enjoy. :heart:

Hetalia (c) Hidekaz Himaruya
Story (c) *miyakai, ~TakaraSasaki, ~Sykoekk, ~ArianaUchiha

Visit my co-authors!

:icontakarasasaki: :iconsykoekk: :iconarianauchiha:
© 2009 - 2024 miyakai
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Sykoekk's avatar
8D Miya, I love you~