Hetalia Boyfriend Scenarios

Meeting Again

a/n: Some of these are less 'Meeting Again' and more just hanging out, just an FYI.

NOTE: f/d = favorite drink

America

As you straightened up, he waved and said, "Be careful, dudette! Don't hurt yourself!" Then he walked off, a slight pink tinge on his face. You stared at his back as he walked away. A blush rose to your cheeks, and you jerked your eyes away from him, shaking your head and beginning to walk again. You hunger lay completely forgotten.

A slight feeling of pain singed your hand, and you winced, opening your palm to reveal a small paper cut. The piece of paper in question was a small, rectangular piece of paper. Smiling, you unfolded in to reveal a ten digit number, clearly his phone number.

Alfred: XXX - XXX - XXXX

You took out your phone and entered it under a new contact. You clutched your phone to your chest and sighed, your breath clouding in the cold air.

{Time skip - 30 minutes later}

When you got home, you flopped back on your back in the comfort of your bed and dialed his number. You put your phone to your ear, half hoping he would pick up, half hoping he wouldn't.

Click.

"Hello?" A loud, cheery voice announced through the speakers.

"Uh, h-hi!" You stammered into the phone, subconsciously feeling the fabric . "I'm (name), that girl you... helped today. I suppose you're Alfred?"

"Yeah, that's me! What did you want?"

You blinked, an embarrassed blush settling over your cheeks. "I hadn't thought about anything to talk about. Sorry." You mentally slapped yourself. Why hadn't you thought of a conversation topic before you called?

"Well, that's not really important!" He blurted. "Today is the fourth of July!"

"Yeah, I guess it is..." you replied, relieved at the sudden change of topic.

"Well, I'm still at the festival! D'you want to come back with me?"

Before you could decide, the phone crackled and a woman's voice could be heard through the speaker, along with some intense, annoying laughter.

"Enough with this awkward conversation!" A voice yawned. Her speech was heavy with a German accent. "My name is Elizabeta. If he tries anything, I vill smack him with my skillet. Do not worry."

"O-okay. Thank you. Where are you?"

Canada

You were taking a walk outside of your house, with a bandaid stuck underneath your eye. You were snug in a sweater and scarf, as it was snowing outside. You were only out to grab a new bag of coffee beans, since you were fresh out.

Strolling through the park, following a secret shortcut you had devised for the way to the local coffee shop, you daydreamed about the events of the previous day. You had helped the poor man limp back to his car, where you found his brother, Alfred, snoring in the car, completely oblivious to what had happened to Matthew. The two of you had exchanged numbers and chatted for a while as his brother wrapped up his ankle.

Apparently, the man's name was Matthew Williams, an adorable Canadian with an adorable accent.

You stopped for a moment to gaze at the snow falling, covering the ground and the leaves on the trees with a thin, frozen blanket of white. It usually rained instead of snowed, and you wanted to take a moment to enjoy it.

Someone was sitting on a park bench right across from where you were standing, drinking a cup of what looked like Tim Horton coffee.

He had the same curl, the same red flannel shirt, the same glasses, only not cracked this time, and a bandage wrapped around his ankle. He was looking to his right, away into the snow, and hadn't noticed you quite yet.