"GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOD MORN-"
"Oh shut up." You pounded an angry fist on top of your alarm clock's snooze button before it could even finish it's sentence. '7:15 AM...On a Saturday?!' You groaned at the dreaded thought, allowing yourself to roll back into the warmth of your sheets. Your squinted eyes at the sunlight peering through your dorm windows, and shut your eyes to try to doze back off to sleep. 'Ah, what bliss...If only I could stay here all day...' you thought.
"Ohonhon~ What do we have here?"
'Oh God...' you thought. 'Please, not now...'
"A sleeping beauty, non? Ohonhonhon~"
You definitely knew that it was France now. Ever since you arrived at Hetalia World Academy, he had not only became one of your best friends, but an authority figure as well. Not exactly a father, but a protective, loving (but sometimes perverted) older brother. And since he was practically an older brother to you, that means that you felt the same annoyance one would from their siblings. 'Oh God. Not today, please not today...' You focused only into trying to sleep, and blocking him out.
"____? _____?" he whispered in your ear and shook your shoulder gently, trying to wake you up. Once again, you ignored him, pulling the sheets over your face.
A slight smirk gazed across his lips while his hands placed themselves on your ticklish sides, and wouldn't let go. "Wake up for me, mon cherie~" He cooed in a taunting voice.
You let out something between a giggle and a squeak before promptly falling out of your bed and onto the floor with a loud thud. You looked back up at the grinning nation, and gave him a glare that could even make Sweden change facial expressions (or so you thought). "What the hell do you want?" you spat out angrily.
This only gained a signature 'Ohonhonhon!~' from the frenchman as he extened a hand to help you up. "Well, happy Valentine's Day to you too, mon ami." He said with a smile and rolling eyes while pulling you up onto your feet.
You groaned loudly and fell backwards onto your bed, covering your face with your pillow. "There's nothing to be happy about." you said bluntly, giving the Frenchman a look of confusion on his face.
"And why not? It is the day of l'amour!" He exclaimed.
"Not everyone has a lover."
"That means nothing! Everyone has somebody to love!"
You mentally growled at your friend, who was obviously not getting the hints. Sighing, you sat up on your bed, and looked France in the eyes. "France, let me ask you this: What is the point in loving someone who would never love you back, hm?" With that question dangling in the air, you stood and went over to your dresser, put on your glasses, and used your hair clip to put your ((hair color)) hair up in a bun, the same way you always wore it.
France's eyes went wide. He finally understood why you didn't like the pink and heart shaped holiday, and who you were talking about: His son, Matthew Williams, or better known as Canada. You had fallen in love with the quiet Canadian since the first day of school.
France's voice lost some of it's lust, and began to be one of concern. "Oh mon enfant..." he came up from behind you and rested his hands on your shoulders. He felt you relax, which for you, was rare these days. He gently turned you around so that you were facing him, and looked you in the eyes. "Come. Come with me..." He guided you over to the full length mirror in your room, and placed you in front of it.
"What is this about, France?" you asked, slightly irritated and annoyed.
"I want you to take a look in the mirror. Tell me what you see." He said, his voice still soft.
You shifted your gaze from him, to your own, looking at yourself in the mirror. You shrugged. "All I see is me."
"Ahh, you are right, mon enfant." He nodded. "What do you have?"
You looked again, and sighed. "I have a face, a body, and hair. There's nothing special to me, or to anyone else."
"Aaah, but that is where you are wrong, mon cher." France moved the two of you closer to the mirror. "Now, tell me again what you see."
"Like I said, I see me. Just the unnoticed, unpopular, ordinary me." The words came out of your mouth cold and bitter, and you pushed away from France's light grip on your shoulders. "France, if you're trying to make a point, could you get to it already? Because I obviously don't see what you see, then."
Fance sighed, shaking his head. "Oui, and it's a shame that you don't. Come back over here, mon cher. Come on." He waved you back over to him, which you unenthusiastically accepted. You stood in front of him again.
"Non, mon cher. Look at me."
You looked back over to France, who looked right into your (eye color) eyes. You shut your own to block out his. You couldn't take the look he was giving you; full of sadness, shame, disapproval.
He took this moment to slip your glasses off of your face, and unclipped your hair, as it fell down your ((back/shoulders)). He turned you back around, and stood next to you again, holding your shoulders. "Now, tell me what you see."
You opened your eyes and looked yourself over again. "Just me without my hair up or glasses. I'm not seeing the point of this, France. I'm just me. I'm not special, I'm not pretty, I'm just....There..." You sighed; your eyes gazing at your folded hands in front of you.
France turned you back around to face him again, and lifted your chin up so that you'd meet eye to eye again. "_____, do you know what I see?"
"Obviously not." you retorted.
He turned you back around into the mirror, and smiled a soft smile; one he generally used for his colonies when they were young and needed comfort; a father-like smile, and said: "I see a girl with beautiful ((hair length and color)) hair, dazzling ((eye color)) eyes, an adorable, contagious laugh, and a beautiful smile to top it all off." He brushed a stary piece of hair out of your face, and smiled when he saw the downwards smile you gave. "That is what I see. And I'm sure he sees it too."
You chuckled at the last part of his sentence, and looked back up at him. "Thank you, France...But honestly," you slipped your glasses back on, and grabbed your hair clip and put your hair back into it's bun. "I don't think so. Canada and I are just friends, nothing more. But thank you for the kind words." You grabbed your uniform and went into your bathroom, considering you knew that France wouldn't leave on that note, and you had to get ready for school.
"I'm sure he does! My boy is quiet, but he knows a beautiful girl one he sees one!" He shouted through the door.
As soon as your uniform was on, you came back out and pushed him out as well. "Come on, France, we're going to be late for class." You changed the subject, hoping he would drop it, but even you knew better than to try to stop France when he was talking about 'l'amour'. "Can we drop this please? It's not going to happen."
"But-"
"Nope!
"___-"
"That's my name, don't wear it out Frenchie~"
"But mon ami I-"
"Not going to happen!~"
You sighed and put your things back into your bag, and exited your last class of the day. "Damn, they're giving us this much work on a holiday?!" You mentally groaned, then chuckled to yourself. "That's why the teachers can't get any love around he-"
"Ow! H-Hey!" You ran into a brick wall- or, in your case, the second largest nation (and a total sweetheart), Canada. Both of your faces flushed at the incident, then turned into soft smiles at each other. "Hello! Sorry!" You two chorused. You laughed in sync. "What's up?" you two asked, once again, in sync, which resulted in more laughter from the both of you. "You go first." You said.
"Hey ____." Matthew smiled at you brightly, his polar bear in his arms giving you the same bright look in it's eye. "Happy Valentine's Day." He said in a monotone voice, rolling his eyes while giving a halfhearted chuckle.
You giggled at his expression. "Yup. Nothing but roses and chocolates here, eh? I mean, I've got so many that I can't even pick up my backpack!" You lifted your backpack into the air with one finger, showing how 'heavy' it really was. This earned a laugh from Canada.
"Boys must be all over you, eh?" He said with a wink.
You chuckled. "Obviously. I'm so fabulous~"
You both went into a fit of laughter again. This is what you loved about being with Matthew: You noticed when he was with you, he was an entirely different person. Not one who stutters, or one who is constantly shy and soft and unspoken, but instead a carefree, outgoing, cheerful person; A total sweetheart. He was one person that you could be yourself around, and not worry about getting judged.
You looked over at Matthew. You loved seeing him like this: a smile across his face, his eyes closed with pleasure, and his laugh which bellowed deep; one much deeper than he ever showed around anyone else but you. A faint tint of pink dusted his cheek, which you weren't able to tell were from his laughing or if he was blushing.
Wait...Blushing...? Nonsense! Why on earth would Canada be blushing by something that you said?
Your chorusing laughter calmed down, and his violet eyes met your ((eye color)) ones with a small smile. "Yeah, Valentine's Day isn't very fun. Especially when you don't have someone to celebrate it with, eh?"
Your eyes went wide. Who would reject such a sweetheart on the most romantic day of the year?! "Nonsense! You have Kumajiro, don't you?"
"Who are you?" The said bear looked up at your Canadian friend, who recieved an aggitated sigh from you both in return.
"I'm/He's Canada!" you both looked over at each other again, and chuckled, both of your faces tinted a pink shade.
"What do you think?" He chuckled once more, then let out a sad sigh, his eyes glued to the ground.
Without a second thought, you grabbed his hand, and gave it a tight squeeze, and smiled up at your friend. "Well, you have me now." You smiled.
Matthew's gaze went from the ground to your hands, then from your hands to your eyes, turning a dark shade of red all the while. A soft, shy smile graced his lips, as he brought them to your forehead, giving you a light, but passionate peck.
Your face flushed and you swore you weren't standing on your own two feet anymore. You looked back up at your Canadian friend, and shy smiles graced upon both of your faces.
"H-Hey...W-Would you like to go to the theater with me tonight, ____? Didn't you want to see that one movie about-"
"Yes!! Absolutely! Totally! Oui!" You laughed at your sudden French outburst, and grinned madly. "Yeah, I'd love to go to the movies with you, Mattie!"
His shy smile turned into a grin almost as big as Alfred's got. "R-Really?! G-Great! I'll come by your dorm later, ____!! See you! A-And Bonne Saint Valentin!!" He ran back off to his own dorm, shouting down the hallway: "Wooo hooo! Yeeees!! I finally got her to notice me! Enfin! Enfin! J'ai une date pour la Saint Valentin!! Yaaaa hoooo!"
You rolled your eyes and giggled at your Canadian.
Wait! Your...Canadian...?
You smiled at that thought. "Yeah, that sounds about right..."
Epilouge
"Yaaaa hooo!!!" Canada ran down the halls and outside, accidentally shoving his fellow classmates aside, knowing that he'd be mistaken for his brother (and most likely, beaten up for it) later, not caring at all who saw him like this.
France couldn't help but chuckle at his son; after all- seeing him so giddy was a rare sight to see. Then again, he also knew that deep down, you were just as excited as he was.
"Ce qui n'a je vous le dis, mon enfant? Je vous l'avais bien dit..." He chuckled and smirked once more to himself, then went back to his own dorm, to prepare himself for his own Valentine's day plans (which, currently, involved watching a certain Canadian out on his first date)...
Translations:
Oui: Yes
Mon Cher: My dear
Mon Enfant: My child
Bonne Saint Valentin: Happy Valentine's Day
Enfin! Enfin! J'ai une date pour la Saint Valentin: Finally! Finally! I have a date for Valentine's Day!
Ce qui n'a je vous le dis, mon enfant? Je vous l'avais bien dit: What did I tell you, my child? I told you so















