Hetalia x Reader (shorts, bonuses, scenarios and previews)

Bad Boys Are My Weakness (2P!America) 3 of 3

3

"Are you sure you should be here?"

"It's a little too late to change my mind" Allen sighed at your reply and you simply patted his knee. "I'm fine, I promise"

A crazy college kid decided to get back at his cheating girlfriend by surprising her with a box of Valentine's Day candy. Unfortunately, the girl had changed lockers and the guy accidentally poisoned you with those horrible hearts.

"You know what's distressing?" Allen adjusted his parka, bracing against the chill wind of the Canadian Rockies. "You getting drugged was only the second most shocking thing that happened"

You hoped he didn't see you flinch. He was talking about Jason Jones actually showing emotion since he transferred to Torrington High; he broke into a mad panic, shoving anyone who stood in his way to get to you—a random junior. According to the witnesses he carried you to his car and drove you to the hospital without waiting for a teacher. (The infirmary would've been a waste of time since the nurse almost never showed up)

It was disturbing that everyone cared more about how Jason of all people would give a damn about a "Plain Jane" when you almost OD-ed.

When you woke up he wasn't there with you in the hospital. There was only a box of chocolates, which you dared not to touch even when you knew it was from him. You had your full of sweets for the month. Maybe forever.

You couldn't avoid the questions and interrogation. You told them you were childhood friends but that was all there was.

Always the wise one, Allen asked. "I don't know. I mean, don't get me wrong, I'd take a bullet for you but the way he reacted when he found you in the hallway seemed so unlike him. Are you that close?"

"Maybe he has a hero complex" You joked. He frowned but didn't press on.

You grinned and wrung your arms together, free hand on clutching your duffel "Come on. I wanna try out that Jacuzzi" You glanced pointedly at his family's gargantuan cabin. Allen and Arin Rosewater were one of the wealthiest kids at Torrington, and quite possibly in all of North America.

He chuckled "We need to settle in our rooms first"

And as if on cue, Ludwig marched three steps up the cabin porch and started explaining the purpose of the retreat (you were forced to pay attention), followed by the rules (boys and girls were not to share sleeping quarters, no wandering outside the cabin without permission, and of course, curfew), and then finally, the rooms.

The seniors were already an even number, leaving you and Allen out, but since you were of different sexes Allen got his bedroom and you in the absent-Arin's. You weren't complaining though: despite the mess of boy band posters on the wall and random magazines on the floor, you enjoyed how her room was bigger than the guests' and she had her own bath.

"Dinner's at seven" Allen had reminded you. You threw him two thumbs up.

You unpacked your clothes before pulling out your journal. This was your first time to write in it since your hospitalization.

Dear Diary,

It's not like I'm ashamed of being associated with Jason, hell, it's the freaking opposite. I mean, come on, he's sweet and smart and he has eyes only for me. And speaking of eyes—it's insane and horrible and just so yandere of me, but I don't like the way others ogle him. I'm sure half of Torrington has gotten off picturing him without his jacket and his jeans. I trust him and I know he won't dump me for a groupie but I always fantasize about stomping to him and kiss him in the middle of the hall. Or the cafeteria. Or his classroom.