The World I Live In (Crazy Hetalia Fanfic)

Seventy-Three

I must have spent too much time on the Launchpad last night. I wake up to car doors loudly slamming, and when I bolt upright in bed, sun is streaming in through the clear opening to the small deck, and I check the time, finding it to be nearly one in the afternoon. What, did Arthur leave and return? Or is someone entirely new here? I creep out of my room, and peer down the stairs. Arthur is in my line of vision, agitated and scowling.

          “Why are you here!? Don’t you have your own bloody country to run, frog?” He spits.

          “Mais, Angleterre, I just wanted to come visit!” Another voice interrupts, and I easily know it’s Francis. What is he doing here? I thought he didn’t get along with Arthur? “Actually, it was more of Mona’s idea to come to visit.”

          “Uncle Arthur!” I hear a female voice call out politely. “How lovely it is to see you!” I blink at her grammar. She speaks like someone from the eighteen hundreds.

          “Oh, hello dear.” He replies softly, some of the earlier irritation gone from his voice and expression. I decide to make myself known, going down the stairs.

          “Ah, ma pissenlit, comment allez-vous? Arthur n'est pas en cours d'strict avec vous est-il?” I smile and easily reply to Francis’s greeting.

          “Non, Francis. Il est va bien.” He gives me a coy grin before redirecting his attention to the green-eyed gentleman.

          “Arthur, you should have informed me that you were letting Thalassa stay with you.”Francis wags his eyebrows suggestively, giving me a small wink. Arthurs face flushes in anger and embarrassment.

          “You bloody toad!” He cries out, advancing quickly towards Francis. Francis runs, and Arthur chases him, both of them spewing curses and words of hatred. I shrug, and turn my attention to the girl in front of me.

          I can’t really call her a girl, she’s not younger than me. We might even be the same age, physically. She has honey blonde hair that’s braided to the side, and sky blue eyes, protected by a pair of silver-rimmed glasses. I have to look down at her, for she is only five feet tall as it seems. She wears a pair of expensive looking jeans that aren’t skinny nor flares, and a gold-pink colored three-fourths length shirt with sparkles. She is also very skinny and willowy, like a delicate flower. She pushes up her glasses, and assesses me. I must look like shit, I didn’t brush my bush of a head, my makeup must be smudged, and I’m in adorned in a pair of Christmas sweats and a green tank top, with just a sports bra to support me. Although the stakes aren’t really stacked equally, I still feel that she is much prettier than I am.

          Nevertheless, she just gives me a polite smile.

          “Don’t worry, they have these squabbles quite often.” She explains easily, and it finally clicks in my mind. She’s Francis’s little sister, or kid. She called Arthur her uncle so Arthur and Francis must be brothers.

          “Oh, trust me. I know.” I laugh a little, before rubbing my head awkwardly. “So, I’m Tally, the representation of Thalassa. You must be… Well, I know you go by Mona, but what’s your country?”

          “I represent the country of Monaco.” She states proudly. I grin.

          “Monaco was a beautiful place when I visited. I absolutely loved your gardens!” I exclaim. She gives me another closed mouth smile, before giggling a little. Jesus Christ, she has the cutesy giggle down and everything. My once wide beam deflates a pinch.