New Units - 2p!Hetalia x Reader

~Chapter Forty Two~

~Previously~

"It's just packaging bullshit." Allen loyally replies. What a good boy.

"What type of bullshit?" I question, braiding a piece of my hair out of boredom. Allen dramatically sighs, obviously tired of my constant questioning.

Flipping upright, I stand up and place my hands on my hips. "Well I'm checking it out." I puff out. "Be my guest," Allen mumbles beneath his breath. While I'm walking away, the soft sound of Lutz's snoring echoes throughout the room.

Standing in front of the thick metal doors I push down on the heavy handle, opening up to see--

A room the size of a football field. Alright, maybe it's not literally the size of a football field, but it sure does feel like it. Boxes are everywhere in sight, labels upon labels scattered across the cement floor, along with a couple of random belongings. The only luminous light came from the dimly lit long bulbs hanging from the ceiling. I tip toe in, stepping over manuals that I'd need to pick up later. Each box was new, an oak-y aroma surrounding each one. I peered into a random box, surprised to see it's insides. "Wow," I muttered, my voice echoing off the walls. Inside the box were various articles of clothing and a fresh bat. It was obviously a box designed for Allen. I grabbed his signature jacket, throwing it over my shoulders. It surprisingly didn't "feel" the same, there was something missing. Like his scent, maybe even just the warmth a normal jacket should have, but this one didn't have that. It felt hollow, lifeless, bare. I ripped it off my shoulders and put it back, shaking the eerie feeling it gave off.

"Hi." A soft voice echoed from behind me. I screeched whilst jolting in place, hurriedly turning around hoping not to see a ghost of some kind.

"Oh, sorry!" Gilen meekly replied. I loudly sighed a breath of relief, placing a soft hand on Gilen's shoulder.

"Whew, dude at least you're not a ghost." His eyes lit up at the sound of my words, maybe calling him "not a ghost" lifted his spirit. A smile reached my lips and I couldn't help but grin at him, Gilen was so pure and sweet, what a bean.

~~~

Somehow, unexpectedly, he found himself smiling with her. Something he'd never done with anyone frankly, and yet with her it seemed so natural and light. Gilen felt comfortable around (Name), he knew that she had good intentions. But that couldn't keep him from reminding himself of the true "thing" he is.

"C'mon, let's get out of this graveyard." (Name) said joyfully, interlocking her arm with Gilen's. Gilen's cheeks felt warm, he wondered if he was malfunctioning. They wandered the halls aimlessly in silence.

"Ya know," (Name) began, trying to keep eye contact with the sheepish boy; but failed due to the fact he kept looking away. "I'm no mechanic, but I'm not completely oblivious to engineering."

"So, if you'd like, and if you were comfortable, I could try and help you with that voice problem you have."

Gilen's mechanical heart did something he couldn't quite describe, only as "beating weirdly." "Uh..." He wasn't sure how to reply, whether to joyfully say yes or politely decline. Gilen simply nodded, keeping his bluish-purple pupils glued to the ground.

(Name) wanted to hug him. Well, she wanted to hug everyone, but she especially wanted to hug Gilen. It was the way he'd hung his head, and his frantic eye movements that made him so lovable. He was like a puppy dog in her eyes, something that needed to be loved and cared for.

Somehow following the "always turn left and you'll find a way out" logic, they miraculously made it back to the big doors leading back to the living room. But before going back, something caught (Name)'s eye.

"Hey, what's that?" She pondered. She walked towards a strange round object, it was covered and surrounded by dust.

Not having the slightest clue, probably due to a memory malfunction, Gilen shrugged, unsure of how to reply. Full of curiosity, (Name) unveiled the tarp, coming face to face with--

"A pool table!" (Name)'s heart leapt at the sight of it. It had a couple of odd scratches here and there, but other than that the table was in great condition. The wooden piece was beautifully carved and polished, intricate designs marking the ends of it. Surrounding the table was a pair of tan leather couches, they had a strange aroma to them, as if they'd just been brought over from a cigar shoppe. The scent and scene reminded her of a distant, happy, memory. A grin crept its way into (Name)'s lips and a light bulb flickered above her brain.

"We could play a match!" she practically squealed. Seeing (Name) act so ecstatic somehow gave Gilen a strange feeling in his core, or stomach as humans would call it. He couldn't quite decide whether is was anxiety or something else. Gilen shook his hands in front of him, shaking his head as well. "I don't know how to play," he stated. (Name) grabbed his shaking hands and squeezed them into her own, her eyes glimmering with hope and happiness. "I could teach you!"

"Really?" A sharp voice said from a dark corner of the room. Emerging from shadows, Luciano raised a brow at the two.

(Name) instantly pouted, however keeping her grip on Gilen. "What? Believe I can't play?" She snapped back.

"I never said that." Luciano replied, lowering his arched brow.

(Name) let go of Gilen's sweaty palms(but not because they were sweaty, she didn't know that) and placed her own on her hips. "You sounded condescending."

"He always sounds condescending." A familar voice came into the mix. Matt walked into the tense room, leaning on the large, open doorframe.

A light growl escaped Luci's throat as he saw others slowly pour into the room.

Gilen slowly backed his way to the closest wall, still in (Name)'s line of sight, but not close enough to hug tightly. (Name) began to wonder why he didn't just sit on one of the couches.

Before (Name) knew it, Luci, Allen, Matt, Lutz, and Xiao had crowded the room. She mentally blushed at the thought of them being there because she was, but stopped when she realized they probably were just bored.

She stood in front of them, scanning each of her new opponents. But which would she pick first?

Hmm. She pondered, stroking her imaginary beard.

Who should go first?

YOU DECIDE!!!

Voting:https://docs.google.com/forms/d/e/1FAIpQLSfx2ctQtPRyoRBayeKkyYgG2rl4rzN4ZogUGCMtkjFmOm7rlw/viewform

Voting ends: 3/21/18