Take A Hint! (Hetalia fanfiction) *REWRITTEN*

Chapter 19: Hidden Scars and Headless men

Trigger Waring: Mentions of self harm

After America got home, he the groceries in his kitchen before going to the bathroom to take a shower. America removed his shirt and tossed it on the ground doing then same to his pants, socks, and finally his boxers. America got underneath the shower and turned on the water full blast not minding the first cold wave of water that washed down on him. America let his hair get soaked a little before he grabbed the shampoo and started washing his golden blonde hair.

Soon enough he started to wash his body washing the muscles and abs that were always hidden away from the world by the larger jacket he always wore. After that America turned the water off and stepped out of the shower grabbing a nearby towel drying his hair and dripping wet body then wrapped the towel around his waist. America look in the mirror and sighed before reaching over for his comb starting to fix his hair.

Once America deemed himself fit he exited the bathroom holding onto the towel around his waist and walked down to his bedroom opening the door and shutting it behind him. America rummaged through his closet until he found a shirt, a pair of pajama pants, and a fresh pair of boxers. America put the new clothes on the bed and dropped the towel reveling himself to the cold air. America put the boxers on then the pants and finally the shirt.

Alfred paused for a moment to look down at the scars on his arms, each of them different sizes some old some new. It had been almost a week since he last did it and to him it was a personal record that he hadn't done it in over a week. Alfred knew deep down that no one could ever find out about the scars so he always wore long sleeves and never took off his jacket. It would also make him seem weak and vulnerable which he wasn't.

He was weak once and it near cost him his life so in his mind being weak and vulnerable like he had been, especially in the world he lived in, could get you killed. No one knew this as well because he kept it hidden like everything else about him. Kept his personality hidden, his scars hidden, kept him hidden. It was for the best and its not like anyone would care. America shook his head to relieve himself from his thoughts and left the bedroom and went into the kitchen.

Alfred decided to make himself a PB and J sandwich because not matter how old you are you can always have a PB and J. After he made his sandwich, Alfred sat down on the couch grabbing the remote from the coffee table and turning on the TV. Alfred flipped through all the different channels until he decided on watching The Avengers. (Can't wait for Endgame release!)

America just sat there eating his sandwich while watching Hulk slam Loki into the floor back and fourth until he was buried into the floor. America let out a chuckle at the line "Puny God" and got up from the couch putting his plate in the sink for him to wash later . Alfred looked at the time and noticed it was nearly midnight and decided it was time to go bed because there was another meeting tomorrow.

Seriously why do they have to have a full week of meetings? Wasn't once a month enough?

It's not like America didn't like the other nations, it's just hard to have high opinions of people who criticize you for almost everything you do including how you dress, act, eat, speak and everything else in between. Unfortunately America didn't have the power to schedule the meeting since that went their bosses, so America had to suck it up and deal with the world.

America let out a yawn and walked down the hall to his room and collapsed on the bed as soon as his head hit the pillow.
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Hitman Jones smiled down at his work immensely proud of himself for the quality he put into it. The once alive mugger was now dead with his hair dyed white and red contacts placed in his eyes to mimic the hair and eye color of their target. The only thing to do now was to the head to Maxwell.

The last part was always the hardest because it took so long to get the head off the body and then mail it to the person who called the hit. Hitman dragged the body into another room and grabbed a saw then began sawing the head off causing blood to slip everywhere including on his hands. Finally after what seemed like forever the head came off the body and rolled onto the floor causing the hitman to roll his eyes and pick up the head. Hitman brought it to a nearby box and carefully placed the head inside before sealing it up and put a stamp on it.

Hitman walked out of the room and into the room where some of his fellow Hitman were conversing at the bar. They paused their discussion when they saw jones walk by with a medium sized box, they figured it was a target and one of them asked who wanted the hit. "Maxwell Smith~" Jones answered placing the box on the table before going to join the others at the bar.

Everyone else in the room immediately groaned at the mention of that particular name and a few shot the box a dirty look. "What'd that guy want?" Someone asked while noises of curiosity followed after since Maxwell was quite well known in the underworld seeing as how he comes from a line of corrupt politicians himself included. "A hit, what'd ya think he wanted dumbass? Flowers?" The bartender snapped cleaning the glass in his hand.

"Well he got one, it's just not the right person." Hitman Jones said with a smirk on his face that mirrored his co-workers own smirks.
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Hey guys! Any thoughts?