The Open Seas: The story of Columbia Jones (Hetalia)

[Chapter 13]A Celebratory Kiss

I have to admit, the interior designer for this place is amazing. Everything is just so nostalgic. As I take in the sight of this place, I notice some footsteps behind me. Turning around, I smile at the familiar blonde, and carry on my merry way. 

I notice a green lounging couch, and I decide that if we're going to talk, I'm going to be comfortable. I lay down on it, almost moaning at the feeling of giving my feet a rest. It seems that he noticed, because he laughs a little before sitting down next to me. I smile, and start up a conversation. 

"Hello Arthur, isn't it nice to not have to talk and dance at the same time?"

He chuckles a little, and looks out one of the large windows. 

"I don't know dear, I was thinking about having a dance of my own with you."

I smile a little, closing my eyes before responding. 

"No can do Artie, I will not be standing for at least another half hour."

"What did I say about calling me that?"

"I don't know, Artie, I thought I was a special case, considering..."

He sighs, glancing at me, but deciding to keep looking out the window at the party. Probably to stop himself from melting in embarrassment. He coughed into his fist. 

"I was, um, meaning to talk to you about that."

I let my expression fall impassive, where was he going with this?

"What do you mean?"

"Well, I was just wondering, did that... experience... mean something?"

I open my eyes with a sigh, and turn to look at him. I find him staring at me, and I exhale, looking back at the ceiling. 

"Do you want it to mean something in particular, Arthur?"

"Well....."

~~~~~

1945, May 8th, Birdcage Walk, London. 

Arthur was running down the streets, nearly crying in happiness. The war was over, it was really over. They surrendered! He knew she was here, somewhere. That blonde American girl that had come to support him and their fellow allies. 

There, not five meters in from of him, he could see her through the crowds of people. He let out a joyous shout and ran as fast as his legs would carry him, straight into her awaiting arms. He barreled into her, and her arms wrapped around his shoulders, her laugh joining his. 

"Arthur!" 

And he couldn't hold himself back, not much more. He gripped her tight, swinging her around like he had seen meany couples do before. One arm was wrapped securely around her waist, and the other splayed over her back as he held her, the tears flowing freely. 

As their spinning stopped, and the cheers of those around them became apparent, the two of them slipped to their knees. They still held each other, with the woman slightly in his lap as he leaned back slightly. He thanked whatever was up there that it was over, and that they could still hold each other like this. Her whispered her name like it was his own anthem. 

"Columbia..."

She peeled herself back a little, and he was almost worried she would end the hug, and he held her a little tighter. But, she didn't. She leaned back and looked him in the eyes, cupping his face in both of her hands. He smiled wider at the sight of her golden grin, she even had the same happy tears trailing down her face. 

She leaned her forehead against his, and let out a little giggle. The sound was like the greatest music his ears could ever hear, like life itself composed the lyrics. He gripped her again, his hand on her back moving up to between her shoulder blades, intent on pulling her closer. 

They stared into each others eyes, both pairs filled with an emotion they knew but dared not place. No one could say who leaned forward first, but they can say that it was mutual. Both leaned in, as if their happiness had put them in a trance. 

As their lips touched, it was almost as if times stopped for them. They couldn't hear the cheering of the people surrounding them. They couldn't care less about the rubble the building around them lay in. If you were in their mind, maybe you would have known that not even the six years of war they had just been through ever crossed their mind. 

All that mattered to them in the 47 seconds they locked lips was each other. All they could focus on was the texture of each others lips, the feel of those pressed against each other, and the utter emotion poured into it. 

They broke apart for air, even if they could have gone without it. They opened their eyes, and stared at each other once more. 

And then it hit them. They had just kissed, in a non platonic way, while clutching each other, and in the middle of the street. They sprang apart, Arthur getting up quickly and brushing off his pants. With eh most awkward expression you will ever see, he held his hand out for Columbia. 

With a face full of equal awkwardness, she accepted his helping hand. Once she was up, he looked away, nervously rubbing the back of his head. 

"Columbia, I-"

But when he looked back to where she had just been, he found her missing. He turned in a circle a few times, but could not for the life of him find that women. With a sigh, he headed back to the palace. 

~~~~~~

"......maybe it could be purposeful?"

I raised an eyebrow at him, questioning him. 

"You want it to mean purposeful? Or do you want it to have been purposeful?"

He gulped a little, and adjusted the collar of his uniform. 

"Perhaps have been purposeful."

I looked back up, closing my eyes. I knew what that kiss was, and I knew he knew it too. It was just that neither of us wanted to say it. 

"I can say that, I think we both meant to kiss. It's just hard to say why and with what intent."

Arthur nodded, and slowly got up. He held to a hand for me, and I took it. I let him help me up, so we were standing in front of each other. 

"Well, I know when not to push my luck. Would you like me to walk you to your car?"

I smiled at him. 

"Absolutely. And you know when not to push your luck?"

As my hand rested in the crook of his arm, he helped navigate us through the hallways of this palace. 

'Well, you could say-"

"Because your dealings with Francis say otherwise, England."

I gave a small disgusted face at the mention of the french nation, and I giggled a little into my hand at the sight. 

"That bloody frog is another matter entirely, and not one I was hoping to mention tonight."

I lean against his side, content for the night. 

"Whatever you say, Great Britain."

The rest of our walk to my car was filled with meaningless jabs and tidbits of laughter. As we approached the black vehicle, I turned to Arthur, curtsying as I went. 

"Goodbye Sir Kirkland, and thank you for accompanying me."

With a small laugh, he bowed to me.

"You are very welcome, Miss Jones, and farewell."

And with that, he turned and walked back into the party. I smiled at his retreating figure, and stepped into the drivers side of the vehicle. 

The night was truly beautiful, and when I fell asleep that night, my dreams were filled with emerald eyes and dirty blonde hair.