Europa, Europa: Hetalia Brother! Prussia And Brother! Germany X Reader

I Can't Wait For It

I gazed out the foggy window, leaning my head against the glass. I figured the people running this whole smuggle-people-to-Poland thing weren't doing a good job, as many people were cautiously checking their surroundings. Maybe it was the fact that I myself was a former spy so I was naturally paranoid, or maybe the operators weren't good at keeping secrets from officials. With a sigh, I avoided all eye contact, deciding to keep my head low.

I felt someone to my left jostle my shoulder. "Where are your parents, girl?" A rough, feminine voice demanded. The woman was old, at most eighty or ninety. She had a cloth tied over her hair, her slightly tanned skin covered in wrinkles. I lifted my head by an inch or two, eyes focusing on the knot of her scarf. "My parents?" I dryly repeated, greasy, knotted hair hanging over my face like a curtain. I had to come up with an excuse, a believable one, too, and quick. I breathed shakily, "I-I lost them while I was on the way here. I'm alone now." 

The only woman gave a dry smile in response. "I lost my grandchildren. They were separated from me, too."

There was awkward silence as I lamely nodded. "I'm sorry." I answered half-heartedly. I couldn't relate to her at all since I came here alone. On some level though, I could comprehend how she felt, but that did not soothe my unease. I removed my duffel, sensing the grandma's eyes critically follow my movement. I ignored her gaze as best as I could, focusing on the heavy duty sack.

"Do you have any brothers in the army?" The old woman implored, shifting in her seat. My eyes never left the duffel. I internally hoped she only questioned me because of the colour of the duffel and not because she was a spy. I bit my lip, nodding. "A dear friend of mine, actually. I don't have any family." I reached a hand in, hoping to find something to busy myself. I was never a fan of talking to strangers, especially the ones who asked too many personal questions. Rummaging through the bag, I pulled out a leather book. It was written in English, surprisingly a language I was quite familiar with. A little note fell out as I opened the mahogany hardcover.

I heard you liked books. I found this one. Hope you like it.
-R.

I almost smiled at the little gesture that made my heart thaw. Placing the note in my bag and tying it shut, I turned the book in my hands. In golden letters it read, 'The Fellowship of The Ring J.R.R. Tolkien'. The book itself was bound without a single defect, the pages brand new with their papery, musty scent. I held the book close to my nose, subtly taking in the smell. "Is that book in English?"

I nearly jumped out of my skin, breaking from the trance I was clutched in. It was that damned old lady again. Her questions were beginning to get on my nerves. She was nosy, too nosy for my liking to the point where I wanted to put on an invisibility cloak and disappear. "Yeah... It is..." I mumbled, hurriedly putting it in my bag. Her eyes trained on the side of my head as I pursed my lips with a certain intensity I haven't felt in a few days. I was beginning to think the worse, from her being a spy to her reporting me before I even made it to Poland.

And then, just like that, we were all in Poland.

I exited the train, hurriedly going ahead of the crowds. I was paranoid to say the least and would not cease looking over my shoulder no matter how hard I told myself that I would be alright; but hey, you could never be too careful. Quickly making my way out of the station and into the city, I surveyed the area. Poland wasn't looking too good, as if they were still trying to recover from WWII.

I walked through the streets, keeping my head low. My plan was to stay a night before moving through the country and then go around to get to Germany, for I didn't want to end up in the east again. Then, I heard someone call out to me in Polish. Suddenly, I felt a man collide with me in a blur of green and blond. We tumbled to the sidewalk, the blond man probably apologizing profusely in Polish. I rubbed my head, groaning as the man helped me up. I blinked, gaping at the man. He mirrored me, letting out a gasp.