Cʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ᴏɴᴇ: Mʀ. Bᴇɪʟsᴄʜᴍɪᴅᴛ
I was walking down a typical NYC street, busy as always, with the sun slowly setting behind the skyline. Dead tired, I made my way through the crowds of people to my apartment building. When I trudged through the lobby of the building, the secretary waved a greeting. I nodded and managed to smile back. I climbed the stairs, heading up to my apartment, trying not to trip and fall, as tired as I was. Finally, I got to my floor. I was heading down the hallway, went to turn the corner, when-
“Oof!” I grunted, falling backwards onto my butt.
“Excuse me. I’m sorry. Let me help you up.” said a deep voice from above me. I looked up to see who it was coming from. I let out a gasp, luckily he didn’t seem to hear it. A tall, muscular man stood over me. His cold, icy blue eyes stared into mine. I noticed he had slicked back, blonde hair. His face showed no emotion as he held out his hand to help me up. I accepted his hand, and he pulled me up.
“Sorry about that...” I mumbled, tilting my head towards the ground in embarrassment. He remained silent. I looked up again, he was still watching me with those cold eyes. “What’s your name?”
“Ludwig Beilschmidt.”
I tried not to show my shock as I nodded, swallowing hard and smiling nervously.
“Hanna. Hanna Diehl. Nice to meet you.”
He nodded. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have important business to take care of.” I quickly picked up on his thick German accent. He finally broke eye contact and walked past me, down the stairway.
I ran to my apartment, slamming the door shut behind me. I wanted to scream, but all I could do was stand there with my mouth agape. I leaned against the wall for a moment, catching my breath, and then ran to my bedroom. I picked up the phone and started dialing...
“Hello?” The voice on the other end asked.
“Christina! It’s Hanna!” I cried into the receiver.
“Whoa, calm down! What’s up?” She sounded concerned.
“Do you...remember that show...we always used to obsess over? In middle school?”
“Ah.. Hetalia?”
“YES!”
“Yeah, I remember. What about it?”
“I...met Germany.” I whispered anxiously.
There was a long pause.
“Yeah, right...and I’m married to England.” She said sarcastically.
“Christina, I’m being serious right now!”
“Hetalia is a show. Hello~ made up characters! How could you have possibly met Germany?”
“I swear...” I told her all about what just happened.
“So what, the guy has the same name...he might’ve been joking too.” She reasoned.
“He seemed pretty legit.” I sighed into the phone.
“Where’s Italy, then?” She said in a teasing tone.
“Stop that!” I cried. “This isn’t funny!”
“From my point, yeah...it’s pretty funny.” She chuckled.
I managed to take a deep breath, and laugh along with her. We stayed up talking and remembering our fun times in middle school and high school, which brought back so many memories. When we finally said good night, it was around midnight.
When I was younger, say 13 (I am 21 now), I adored Hetalia. It was my favorite show. I loved all the characters, but Germany especially. He was my favorite character, so strong and brave, always caring for Italy. Sadly and most unfortunately, he is not real.
Or is he? I thought to myself.
I got up and walked to the dresser, and rummaged through the small wooden jewelry box my dad had made me. I found an iron cross necklace, the one I always wore because Germany always wore one too. As I looked it over while lying on my bed, I slowly drifted to sleep, dreaming of all the nostalgic childhood memories and what tomorrow would bring.
Will I see him again?
Definitely.
