Homeless (a Hetalia Fanfic, Book Three)

Chapter 6~!

The picture is sort of what Alice looks like now, minus the little extra-long strand of hair I mentioned in a previous chapter. The girl in the image's hair is a little lighter than hers, however.

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I stumbled out of bed the next morning tired and groggy. I rubbed at my face with one hand while I slogged through the hallway, but upon reaching the living room I found not one, not two, but three siblings sitting in the chairs or couch. One was still in her pajamas, but the two men were dressed for the day already.

They had heard my shuffling; I knew because they all turned to look at me when I came into view.

My bleary eyes were clear when I saw Alfred sitting on the couch. He stood up immediately and began to make his way around the coffee table, but in response I turned to my left and continued my pace toward the kitchen.

"Alice, hey, wait up," he said, chasing after me at a leisurely speed. His hand landed on my right shoulder, where the port that connected my false arm to my real body was, and I shook him off because that area had never felt quite comfortable to me. People touching it never felt good.

"Morning," I replied, going to the coffee maker and grabbing a clean mug from the counter-- at least, I hoped it was clean. Whatever. There was warm coffee in the pot, and that was all that mattered.

"Morning?" he echoed, taken aback. "You disappear for six years and all you say is "morning?"

"Sorry. You want some?" I asked, gesturing to the coffee maker.

Alfred threw his arms into the air and spun away from me. "You are unbelievable!"

"Al, chill the hell out," Willow scolded from the kitchen doorway. "She's been through a lot, okay? She wants to come home."

"Is that true?" Alfred asked me. I was busy stirring sugar into my cup and kept my eyes on the swirling, dark liquid. "Alice?"

"... Yeah, it's true," I finally admitted.

When I turned back around, gripping the mug by the handle, Alfred had his arms out to me in a relaxed pose. I raised an eyebrow at him.

"Alice, just hug me," he sighed. My mug made a little clinking sound when it touched the counter, and I allowed myself to be folded into his arms.

Okay, it felt nice. I confess. I missed him, too. Seeing him at the park in London had been hard, which was partially why I had left so quickly. I mean, except for the whole "stay away from the countries, the world is out to end your life" warning. It was so hard to not hug him back with twice as much force, but I managed not to.

"You can come back, Alice. Of course, brah," America granted. "Seriously. I just wish I knew why you stayed away for so long, man!"

Then he stepped back and crossed his arms over his sturdy chest. "And I would also like to know why you're stealing information from top secret terrorist organizations without telling me."

"I'm in trouble," I guessed after a moment while I looked to the side of him, "aren't I."

"Yeah, kind of," he confirmed. I whined and grabbed my coffee, taking in a long sip of the brew.

"Starbucks," I stated with a slight grimace.

Willow scoffed and rolled her eyes. "Oh, come on. There aren't any Dutch Bros. out here, you know. Either drink it or give it to me."

I shook my head and mixed more sugar in while adding milk as well. "I got this, I got this. You are not taking my coffee away from me, sister."