Hetachains (Rewritten Hetalia Reader Insert)

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Sixteen

Insult To The English Language

The darkness cleared. A calming gradient from complete black to a soft yellow, warming my face as each sense returned. Though, if I had it my way, hearing would have remained out of the equation for a bit longer. The moment the unbearable squeal faded, a voice took its place. This one much more annoying than any tone Lydia could create.

"Hey, ____, time to get up~" The voice sung. A hand poked my cheek, I slapped it away and rolled onto my side. The voice sighed and the hand returned, this time shaking my shoulder with vehemence.

"Come on, ____! There a lot to talk about and Germania is really boring!" The voice pestered. My entire body shook with the hand, the violence too much to even give a response.

"St-Stop i-it." I sputtered out, voice sounding as if I riding a bumpy roller coaster. The shaking stopped immediately. A face appearing in my vision as I was flipped onto my back. I blinked to try and focus my eyes on the face, first noticing the large curl sticking out of their head. Or, curls? On top of the wavy hair stuck out familiar curls which shook in the slight breeze.

"Lovino? Did you grow more hair or something?" I croaked, voice hoarse. A boisterous laugh burst in my face as the figure disappeared, still roaring with laughter. Okay, not Lovino. A simple 'no' would have sufficed. I slowly sat up and observed my surroundings. Similar to lydia's lair of doom, the new area was full of light. But, the area no longer looked solid. Everything has a blurry look to it as if blinking would cause it to vanish.

In the edge of the area sat a couch? That thing that people lay on when talking to therapists in movies. Whatever it's called sat in the corner, a man lounging leisurely with a mug in his right hand. Blond hair pulled back into a tight ponytail while a few stray pieces fell around his face. Damn, that man can do his hair better than I ever could. His blue eyes connected with mine, sending a jolt of familiarity through my spine. I only know one person who could look so dignified and broken at the same time.

To confirm my suspicions, I looked back to the first person I'd seen. The Italian look-alike. He had stopped laughing as I turned to him, quickly striking a pose that did nothing to improve my opinion of him. It more reminded me of a poor attempt at actin casual. But I wasn't paying attention to his nonchalance. I was searching his face: the pull of his mouth into a promiscuous grin, the tan color of his skin, and most notably, the large curls sticking from his head in every direction.

Why do I always get stuck in these situations? I sighed, letting my head fall as I leaned forward. Let's just get this over with so I can kick Lovino's ass for not telling me about this. I straightened myself, crossing my legs in front of me as I tried to keep my thoughts from drifting.

"You guys are both nations, aren't you?" I asked. Immediately the Lovino/Feliciano combination jumped to his feet with a huge grin.

"That's right! See, Germania, I told you they were bright." He declared. Germania took a sip from his mug, a few mumbles echoing from the ceramic.

"I never said they weren't bright. I said you were an idiot for thinking they'd be okay with this." he said, giving me look which said 'I know what you're feeling'. I gave a grateful nod in return. Germania. So he is related to Ludwig. I can see where he gets his...everything? I pushed to my feet and held a hand out to the babbling man.

"I assume you already know who I am. Care to level the playing field, Mr..." The man clasped my hand in his. He had big hands. I struggled to maintain eye contact as he shook my hand. Once, twice, three times before releasing my poor hand with a smile.