Let the World Sing; Hetalia Oneshot Book

Home With Him; Cuba x Reader

Warning! This is about the Cold War and the tension between capitalist and communist parties! This one shot has contents that may offend! It was just the 60s, so don't take your racial problems and ideals on me! This is just a one shot!! Thank you!!!

"I'm sorry my dear. I have to go. Be a good little wife will you?" Maximo asked, as he cupped your cheek. Tears started to pour out of your eyes, as you stared at your husband. You held his hand tightly to your cheek, not wanting him to leave you behind. Maximo laughed a little before tilting your tear soaked face to meet his calm one, "What's the matter? You know I'm a country darling. I can't die until the country is forgotten." 

"I know that! You've told that to me so many times, that I can't even stand it." You pouted, as you held his calloused hand to your burning cheek, "Can't Mrs. Cuba be a little concerned for her husband?" Maximo laughed again before stealing a passionate, yet swift kiss.

"Of course you can't! You need to smile and be brave for me okay? Let's just hope America understands our power!" Maximo beamed, as put his head in the crook of your neck, kissing it every so gently. After Maximo moved himself away, you smiled greatly.

"Give em' hell!" You yelled, trying to lighten the mood of the room. After Maximo left, your smile disappeared and was replaced with a lonely frown. Tears cascaded down your cheeks once more before you plopped down to the ground. 

__-*-__

Confused yet? Well it's a long story. You were from the United States of America a couple of years ago. It was the time of the Cold War. Russia and America were at odds and ends, which made the entire world fear for their own safety. Russia and America knew they couldn't bring Europe and Asia into another war, so capitalists and communists decided to fight with each other instead. In 1940, Cuba came out as a communist country, which means they support Russia and had tension with America. 2 years ago, you and your family went to Florida for vacation and you accidentally were swept off to the gulf. You passed out and found yourself on the Republic of Cuba. All you wanted was to go home, but that was almost impossible during 1960. After a month of living in filth and terrible poverty, you met an unexpected friend.

"Hey?! What are you doing stealing my produce?!" A middle aged shop owner yelled. In quick haste, you ran off, but the man was hot on your heels. Luckily, you turned an unexpected corner. The man had lost you. With a sigh of relief, you walked off to your abandoned home.

"Look! (Y/N)'s back!" Angelo cheered, as two other kids ran up to hug you. These weren't any random kids, however. In the first month you came to Cuba, you found abandoned children in a situation similar to yours. Without much thought, you cared for them like they were your own. As Angelo, Carlos, and Juan ran up to you, you gave them each a banana to eat before dinner. Usually, you wouldn't steal like this, but nothing grew in the garden, so you had no choice. I didn't matter what you had to do for those kids, you would try your hardest to give then little luxuries. Everything seemed peaceful, yet you still feared the idea of someone finding this little oasis and turning you in. The next day, you went out to steal some more produce, but came across the man you stole from the day before. The middle aged man was talking a local police man (a.k.a part of the military.)

"There's the little wench! Get her!!" He screamed, after you started to run away. As you tried to lose the police, you turned random corners. A mistake occurred and you ended up at a dead end, with the ruthless officer behind you.

"You're under arrest for stealing goods." He spoke, as he pinned you to the wall, "Unless, you have something to bribe with~" He asked, as he turned you around and lifted your skirt. With a quick smack to his face, you glared at him.

"How dare you, you filthy communist?! How can a police officer be so corrupt, AND for what reason?!" You yelled, impulse taking your senses. You didn't see your mistake until the man's eyebrows knitted together.

"You... you're a spy aren't you?" He asked, losing his patience after a second, "You're coming with me!!" He yelled, grabbing your arm roughly and dragging you to jail. You tried to break free, but he was to strong. Instead of taking you to jail, he took you to the capital to be questioned before you were ruthlessly killed. He took you to a room where the president and governor sat and spoke, "This woman is a capitalist!! She's an American spy!!!" Everyone in the room gasped and started to panic, until a man with dreadlocks and a cigar hanging loosely form his lips spoke.

"Wait a moment. Tell us what happened and why you think she's against us. We can never be sure." The man spoke, pointing to me. The officer explained the whole story and once he finished, the man from before started to laugh out loud. Slowly everyone started to laugh with him before he receded his laughter and hand signaled something. Three guard came over to you and the officer and pulled you away. The officer was taken out of the room by two guards, before you heard a gun shot from the other side of the door. You looked to the men before the man from before spoke, "It's alright darling. Now tell us! Are you an American spy? Tell us the truth now!"

"I don't care if my answer gets me killed. In fact, I want to embrace death right about now. I am an American." Everyone gasped at your statement, before you continued, "But!! I am not a spy. I was on vacation and I was washed out to the gulf. I ended up here and accident, and all I want to do is go home; However, that is no longer possible is is?" You asked, giving a little pout. The man with cocoa colored dreadlocks shook his head. Him and the men looked at each other, before they looked back at you.

"We don't always do this, so consider yourself lucky. You will be staying with this man here for a while. You don't have a choice so deal with it." The president told, as if it was more of a demand then a decision. He turned to the man with the dreadlocks and nodded. The man with dreadlocks took you by the arm and walked you out of the room.

"W-What the hell are your doing?! Let me go!!" You yelled, trying to pry your way out of his grip.

"I'm taking you back to my house. I'm going to look after you for a little while." He  explained, as he continued to walk. There was an uncomfortable silence, that ate away at the atmosphere. Besides the awkwardness, his cigar's smoke stationed in the air.

"Who are you anyway? I don't think I know you." You asked, trying to make decent conversation. He looked at you, but then looked away. He held out his index finger, indicating that he'll answer your question in a moment. You and he stopped in front of a large villa before going inside. He pushed you on a couch, before left to go get some coffee. You waited patiently, until he came back.

"Coffee?" He asked.

"Answers?" You retorted.

"Fine... I'm Cuba, the personification of this country. When we are out of the villa, call me Maximo. That's my human name." You were confused for a moment, before you decided to brush off your confusion.

"Why did you save me?" You queried, wondering the same thing. It took Cuba a moment to think about it, before lighting another cigar.

"I don't know why I saved you. It just... felt right." Cuba answered looking at you. Without much thought, you blushed a deep red color. You didn't why you felt this way, until a year later. He proposed and you said yes.

__-*-__

It was now 1962, and you were left on the floor. Crying for your husband's safety. It didn't seem real. Were you really married to a communist? Your mother had always warned you about this. She said, 'Don't marry a communist! Don't choose a Hispanic husband! Don't make a mountain out of a mole hill!' Now look at you! You did all these things! After 13 days of worrying for your husband's return, you saw a him walking to the door. When he opened the door, you jumped toward like a lost puppy and kissed him passionately on the lips. It was weird! You had only been in Cuba for two years, but it still didn't feel like home. It only seemed like like home when you were with him.