The World I Live In (Crazy Hetalia Fanfic)

108

just kidding its almost done

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Jared is waiting for us when we get off the plane. I see the public giving him weird looks, him being the president and all, but they don’t try to talk to him or get his autograph. I run up to him and give the older man a great big hug. His hair is salt and peppered, wrinkles around his eyes, but he smiles as if he’s a kid in a candy store.

          “Hey, Jared! How is everything?” I ask easily.

          “Good, good. We’ve been missing you over at the can.” He explains. I had helped him and others make the ‘can’, which is what we call the government building, as it looks like a large can in the middle of a swirl of streets and buildings. I laugh and nod.

          “Don’t worry, I’m here now.” I turn and grab Arthur by the arm, pulling him over. “Jared, this is my boyfriend, Mr. Arthur Kirkland.” I see Jared’s face turn serious, as if he’s sizing up a boy to make sure he is a good candidate for a boyfriend for his daughter. I begin to worry slightly, until I see that Jared is masking a grin. He puts out a hand and Arthur shakes it.

          “Pleasure to meet you, Mr. Kirkland.” Jared greets simply. Arthur nods.

          “Pleasure is all mine, Mr. Kingfield.” After the almost awkward introduction, Jared turns to me.

          “I have your car outside waiting.” My memory clicks, and I recall exactly what he’s talking about.

          “…Marge?” I whisper in astonishment, and he nods.

          “Tally and Millie are also in the car as well.” I squeak and drag Arthur over to pick up our luggage, and lead him out to where Jared and another person – bodyguard, I assume – are waiting.

          “She’s over there.” Jared informs, and I go in the direction in which he’s pointing, before I finally come across Marge, and sigh in completion.

          Marge is an old Bronco, from the seventies. Light blue, lifted, completely my type of car. Arthur’s eyes widen at the sight, but he doesn’t question it, opening the door to reveal two sleeping cats in the backseat. I am momentarily happy that this car has no windows, or else the felines would have suffocated, but because they are representations of the country and therefore immortal I don’t think it would be too big of a problem if they were in a car, although it would be unpleasant, to say in the least.

          “Hey, Arthur?” I ask as we move to get into the raised car. He sits in the passenger seat.

          “Yes?”

          “How come Cammie is named Cammie, and is a girl? Even though she represents what you are in feline form?”

          “Well, a long time ago, when us older nations were much younger, we got to choose our own cats and what we named them. As time wore on, though, I guess nature decided it would be easier to make them out as what they really represent, and make them immortal from the day they’re born. It made it a lot easier, although the cats are then named after you and take after whatever personality you have.” He explains. I nod, and start Marge, happy to be behind the wheel once again. I got her after returning from my first trip to America, and when we started to build things. I needed a ride to get me places easier, and Marge appeared. I turn and follow the road to my home.

          Soon we’re on a dirt path, and then my house looms into view. It’s small, but it has two stories. Sure, they had asked if I wanted it remodeled, and I said no, but that doesn’t mean it wasn’t remodeled. When I had the chance to remodel the home myself, I took it, and would work at night to wire the house and string bulbs up, and replace any moldy wood, and paint the walls. I still use a hammock, but I now have a couch and a television with a cheap DVD player. I have a working kitchen with a moderate (old- from the fifties, at least) refrigerator, and a dining table with chairs. I have a deck with a little wooden swing. I have a desk for my laptop. I have a dresser. I have two or three guest rooms, which will be used by the guests when they arrive tomorrow.