Sorry, My Boyfriend is Just Kind Of Old-Fashioned [Hetalia England x reader]

Chapter 4- In which Arthur goes to Hollister

Unlike yesterday, today you woke up at the absolutely delicious time of 10:49 A.M.

"Yes!" you cheer. "It really is Saturday!" And what do we do on Saturdays...

"Rise and shine, Arthur, we're going shopping!"

He stumbles down the loft stairs still half-asleep. " 'Shopping'... Is that some kind of recreational activity of the 21st century?"

"Sure is!" You say, applying one more coat of lip gloss. Damn, how you missed your nice eyeliner, but sure, you were going to be replacing it today.

"Come on, we've got to get there before lunch so-- oh there's no way you're going to be wearing that!" You stare down Arthur's redcoat uniform from top to bottom. Indeed, he looked just like a British soldier from the textbooks, but only if that soldier hadn't washed or showered or shaved for about two days now. (Okay, maybe showered, but even that's a stretch. ;) )

"Wait here." you tell him, going into your parents' room and sizing him up a white shirt and pants from your dad's closet. Oh, and a Gillette from your dad's bag he could borrow. You ended up lingering for a for little bit on your dad's side of the bed. Mr. (Last name) was hardly ever here either, but unlike your mom, you kind of missed him. You always remember memories of fun times and laughter when he was around...

Dismissing your thoughts, you offer Arthur the clothes and razor and leave him in the bathroom to change.

"Ready?" You say as he comes out dressed. "We leav--

"WOW!!!" you gawk over his temporary new clothes. The shirt was obviously too big for him, being seventeen and your dad almost 30, but still...

"Arthur, you look almost... normal!" you declare, giggling.

"I-I don't see why--" he stammers.

"Oh, and unbutton your collar a little, it looks better relaxed." You do so for him, ignoring his blush, and then go to grab your favourite (f/c) leatherette bag, wallet with credit cards, and iPhone.

"You'll never guess where I'm taking you~!" you squeal.

(Arthur POV)

I think I am going to be sick. The place (Name) wanted to go today was very hot and cramped, and after that... whatever that was... rectangular metal box with way too many people moving way to very fast... this is abysmal. Why, oh why is there a perfume scent enough to cover a dead body, and dammit, where is that bloody music coming from, I don't see a band! (Like you could see anything in here anyways, it's so damn dark...

"I beg your pardon," I ask one of the commoners sitting next to a pile of coloured fabric, "but do you happen to know if there's a Queensbury near here? Queensbury England?"

"England?!" She scoffs, laughing. "This is Hollister California, dude!"

"W-what insult did you just call me??"

"Arthur!" (Name) pulls me away from the vendor girl, apologizing. "Sorry, he just happens to be a bit... off. Hey Arthur, look, the men's clothes are over here, why don't you pick something that you like?" We pass a giant monochrome poster of a chap with no shirt and his pants way too near his fanny and I nearly choke on my tea. (Metaphorically speaking, of course. Any tea would be great now, anything other than this-- bastard of a flower scent--!!)

"So apparently pornography is prevalent in your country?!?" I exclaim. Then in front of us walk a series of shirtless male models asking (Name) if she wanted to pose with them for a picture.

(Name) blushes and looks away at me quickly. Dear God, the horrible dimness, the ghastly scent, the hideous music that seems to thump back and forth within the walls. And then it hit me.