Run (A Hetalia FanFiction)

Chapter 22- Cupcake

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Oliver: Hetalia does not belong to my cupcake, but to Hidekaz Himaruya.

Me: *shivers* C-cupcake...

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Adeline’s POV

A man with blonde hair, dyed a faint pink, strolled in. His eyes were a light blue, different to the sky blue eyes that America had. The most striking feature of his appearance was his thick eyebrows. Somehow he looked like England, but mentally unstable and twisted, his eyes burning with fires of insanity. 

“Hello love, I’m Oliver. Please don’t mistake me for that idiotic blonde, Arthur,” he greeted me, coughing out England’s name. ‘Oliver- so he’s England’s 2p…’  Oliver wore a bright pink shirt and a darker sweater vest with a blue bowtie. In general, his clothes didn’t match even slightly. His hands were placed behind his back, as if he were hiding something.

“Would you like a cupcake, dear?” Oliver cooed, offering me a blue and pink cupcake topped with a wafer daisy. It was sprinkled with sugary silver balls. I was so tempted to eat it as I hadn’t eaten in days, but Oliver was known for his secret ingredient. Dead bodies.

Oliver’s face darkened as he muttered something to a guard behind him. The lights went off immediately so I was forced to stare into two electric blue pupils.

“Eat the cupcake dearie. If you refuse, I will kill all your friends,” he threatened. I inhaled sharply and it echoed in the room.

“O-Ok…,” I squeaked out weakly, “I’ll eat it.”

The lights brightened the room as they flickered on again. The cupcake was placed in my hand.

“Eat.”

America’s POV

*Dream*

Blood. Everywhere, the crimson liquid stains everything and everyone. Rain pours heavily, forming shallow puddles in the mud that my boots sink into. I wear a blue, white and red uniform, two white sashes crossed over my chest. My hair is the normal dirty blonde, that cowlick sticking out where it parts. Texas wasn’t resting on my nose, no my clear blue eyes locked on him. England. Arthur kneels before me, his hand clutching the mud and grass beneath him. His emerald eyes yearning for me to give up. But no, why can’t he see that I just want to be his equal?

“What happened? I remember when you were so great.” I say, looking down at the man who used to be my big brother.

The man who had loved me. Cared for me. No more.

*End*

I awake, breathing heavily, my mouth ajar and face flushed with fear. Arthur looks to me, his palm on my temple. I blush slightly at the contact.

“Are you ok?” Arthur asks me, a worried look etched in his face.

I nod and rub my eyes with a fist. He doesn’t really care, does he? It’s all just an act.

Exactly.

But he seemed so sincere. Maybe he was worried about me-

Do you really believe that? He just wants to find the girl, and he can’t do that without you.

I suppose so.

“Alfred?” Arthur yells, waving his arms madly.

I face him and sit up, a slosh of drool dribbling from my lips. I wipe it off with the back of my hand.

“So what were you dreaming about?” Artie asks, cheeks reddening a little. ‘Oh god, what did I say?’

“Just nothing…” I reply quickly, feeling my face mimicking England’s.

After a moment of awkward silence, Arthur sits in the driver’s seat and inserts the key into the car. It starts up with a loud revving sound. ‘That’s my girl.’

“We’d better get going then,” Arthur states, before putting his foot down, tyres squelching in the muddy terrain.

England’s POV

I started driving quickly, my shoes pressing hard on the acceleration. Alfred had been silent for a while now, and I was getting worried that something was seriously wrong. Rain pelted on the windshield in small droplets, yet my vision was getting blurry through it so I set the wipers on continuous and watched as they swiped the glass with every move.

Back and forth.

Back and forth.

A bit like you and America’s relationship don’t you think Arthur?

A twisted voice resounded in my head, seemingly sweeter than icing. How did it know my name?

Never mind that nonsense. Do you agree?

Why would I? You’re just some git who finds it ok to invade minds without asking.

I’m going to pretend your foul mouth didn’t open.

Who are you anyway?

That hardly matters. What matters is what’s going on in that American’s head… Do you wish to know?

I suppose I am curious.

He dreamt about the Revolutionary War you know, but doesn’t regret a thing.

How would you know anyway?

I enter people’s minds just as you said I had.

H-He doesn’t regret it?

Nope, none of it. When he called your name, he was begging you to lower your weapon.

I see. What else has been bothering him?

How useless you are to him. He bores of you.

That’s not true. I see it in his eyes. Alfred is still the child he was all those years ago. He needs me.

He’s replaced you.

Now you’re just making up all kinds of shit. I’m not that dense.

Keep telling yourself that.

Tell me who you are now.

You like riddles don’t you, Arthur?

Yawn.

I am who you wish to forget, wish to cut off, but can never live without.

My brain?

Do you have one?

Good riddance, tumour.

I scratched my head, in deep thought. Too deep in thought to hear him. Too deep to hear him scream. 

 “Arthur! SLOW DOWN!”