Hetalia Requests {open}

Lovely {2p!England}

"Oliver? Are you in there?" Tonette, Oliver's older sister asked as she gave his door another knock. "You okay?" She asked again before quickly adding, "Just wanted to say that Mum and Dad are going to be coming home in three hours. So better freshen up." With one brow raised at the unusualness of his locked door before heading down the corridor and into her room.

Unbeknownst to her though, her brother really wasn't in his room. Or on the family property for that matter. No. A chain of blankets were on the side of the house, stretching from his bedroom window to the third floor down to just three feet above the soft green patch of grass below. A 'dummy' of him laid on the bed with an extremely thin and short blanket on top and a beanie over where his head should have been if he were actually in the bed. The familiar footprints on his pink converse were smudged on the garden ground, in a weak attempt in covering the clues.

An amazing first attempt at breaking the rules in deed.

"Where are we going poppet?" Oliver asked the ____ haired girl that held onto his freckled hand tightly. She walked in front of him, hips swaying effortlessly while her hair bounced with each step she took. She glanced over her shoulder, throwing the young Brit a mischivious look that was mixed in with both amusement and excitement.

"My place." She replied simply, once again focusing her gaze on the cement sidewalk in front of her.

Oliver's cheeks flushed, making the freckles on his cheeks a bit less prominent. His eyes widened, and almost immediately his hands got clammy and a bit sweaty.

It was the first time he'd disobeyed rules, the first time he would hold a girl -that wasn't a relative's- hand, and the first time he'd go to a girl's house. He was used to girls though, having a sister helped. But he was new to girls like her: wild, free, unafraid and 'cool', and in his opinion, she was much like a girl version of Allen. Which would explain the unspoken closeness between the two.

So, in short, she was a lot of his firsts. And he had the feeling that she'd take a whole lot more of his firsts if he kept on walking with her to her place.

All the while, both of you held hands. He, sometimes trying to start a conversation and you, always have something to say that would leave him temporarily speechless. Once both of you were what he supposed was your house, which looked pretty nice - three stories, off white painted, a gold edged white door, broad windows and a well kept lawn - , he started to fidget a bit.

"Are your parents home? Gosh, Id hate to meet them like this! I mean I haven't-," But he was cut off before he could go into a full inspection on himself.

Her giggle that sounded oddly like tinkling bells to Oliver cut him off, her head was shaking from side to side in an amused manner, which he found both weird and attractive at the same time. Weird as in: he hadn't said anything funny, right? And well the attractive part was obvious.

"No Ollie, they aren't home." She stated before moving closer and bringing her hand up to cup the side of his face. She gave a small smile and with a tilt of her head said, "And don't worry. You look absolutely adorable."

~

Somehow, both of you managed to end up on her bed watching a movie on the TV in her room. His arm was draped over your shoulder, while your head rested on his chest. Sheets laid over the both of you as a half empty bowl of popcorn sat in the middle.

You both were in complete silence as you enjoyed the movie, which was a romance that neither you or Oliver have ever watched before. Oliver's phone was off to the side, on one of your night side tables, flashing and vibrating like there was no tomorrow.

"Need to go home?" You asked, though not once removing your eyes from the screen.

And though it absolutely killed him not to pick up his phone and read the texts that were obviously from his family, somehow, lying there in you bed in your dark room watching a Romance film was actually worth being actually killed when he got home. "No." was his short reply as he subtly laid his head on top of yours and wrapped his arms around you. "Your warm and fluffy." He purred out as he closed his eyes and enjoyed the absolute bliss that the moment was giving him. Though his sugar coated daydreams were interrupted by a small slightly uncomfortable giggle from you.

He was just about to distance himself when you held onto him. "No, stay." You said, sighing as you closed your eyes before adding in the softest voice you've ever spoken in. "All this cuddly sh*t is turning me on."

And though you though that he didn't hear the last statement, he in all fact and honesty, did. His eyes widened as he gave you rushed and subtle glances. His eyes flickering with doubt for your words and yet coated with a twinkle of amusement and excitement.

He mulled over what he could probably say next, seeing as he couldn't get your last words out of his head. Or the tingling feeling of your hands on his lap, or the fact that your hair was tangled in messy patterns on his chest, as well as the warmth of your head on his side and the body heat that radiated off of you.

And after what seemed like an eternity to him, he spoke up, "Really love?" He paused for a moment before continuing with a voice that was practically laced with confidence, though he felt everything but it. "You know, they say that the tongue is the strongest muscle in the body." And not only was it totally unrelated and off topic, he said it so casually that it sent shivers up your spine. He sounded like a genuine playboy, but maybe that was just you.

"Yeah...so?" You replied a bit confused. You tilted you head up a bit to face him, hoping to get a good look a his face and whatever expression h might have had on. And due to the dim lighting that only the flat screen TV of your room had provided. Your hart beat sped up a bit as he nervously looked down at you. Bright blue eyes meeting yours, he was nervous. The small crooked smile and little bad of sweat that already trickled down his neck said it all.

"Want to fight me?" He asked. His face flushed and inner voice mentally screaming. He regretted having said it, and it obviously wasn't his own work. Allen had said it to him with a remainder to 'speak like a man and eat like a man after' Oliver really didn't get the 'eat' part but guessed it was something inappropriate, especially since Allen was the one that said it.

Your eyes widened. 'Is he...flirting??' You mentally asked yourself. You held back the urge to gape at his attempt. And smirked at the fact that he must have gotten it from Allen, only adding to the cuteness of the moment. A crooked smile graced your lips as you forced yourself to pull away from him and sit up properly beside him instead. "Well, I don't know Ollie. You promise you won't go running home when you lose?"

And seemingly in the spur of the moment, the young Brit gained an ounce of confidence and raised a brow before leaning a bit closer to your face and saying the next few words in the most attractive way he could muster, "Want to bet cupcake~?"

And in a second he'd already, and not to mention surprisingly, laid his lips onto yours. And that's pretty much how the night started, with both of you making out like crazy and ending with two bodies laying down on your soiled bed with the sheets draped messily over your tangled limbs and clothes scattered all over the floor, thus creating a beautiful masterpiece.