2p Hetalia x Reader AU

You woke up to the annoying beeping of your alarm clock. Groaning as you begrudgingly open open your [e/c] eyes a bright light floods your room. Your [f/c] alarm clock is pressed and you look over to see your big brother smiling down at you. "Yo, ____! Wake up!" Alfred shouted and pulled your [f/c] comforter off you and to the end of your twin sized bed.

"Come on, dudette! You're gonna be late again!" The cheerful American opened your closet and looked through some things before tossing you a pair of light blue skinny jeans and and a simple white thermal, along with a t-shirt Alfred had given you that says 'HERO' on it.

You sighed and got out of bed, pushing Alfred out the door so you could get changed. "How can he be so happy all the time..." You ask yourself, slightly envious of your older brother. Sure your home (and school) life sucked, but why did he get to be the go-lucky child? You sighed yet again and pulled on your jeans after rubbing the excess sleep from your [e/c] eyes.

After putting the rest of your clothes on, you walked into your en suite and ran a brush/comb through your [h/l] [h/c] hair. Slipping on a purple pair of vans, you slung your backpack over your shoulder and walked out your door, making your way downstairs to see if your mom was home. To your relief, she wasn't. You hated your mom. No, hate wasn't even a strong enough word. There were no words to describe how much you despised your vile mother. [M/n] was an alcoholic by night and a real estate agent by day. She spent most of the money on booze and cigarettes, and didn't even bother on feeding you anymore. At least "mother" didn't beat you...

...anymore. she finally stopped the eight years of abuse when Alfred almost called the police when she came at you with a broken bottle one night. Even though it had been two years since she had stopped, your mother hadn't treated you any better. The only reason you or Alfred hasn't starved to death by now was because of his multiple jobs and obsession with McDonald's.

You sit down at the old, beat up kitchen table as Alfred made his way downstairs. You both walked walked out the door, locking it behind you, and started on your way to school, shoulder to shoulder. When you and Alfred arrived at the highschool, you waved 'goodbye' to each other and went your seperate paths. 'Alright,' you think to yourself, pushing some stray [h/c] hair out of your eyes. 'Here goes another day of hell.'