Perseverance (Hetalia [FrUK])

Bonus - The End

"Are they leaving yet?"

"Alfred, stop moving. You're stepping on my toe."

"Mattie, do you see them?"

"Why are we in a bush?"

"Did they kiss yet?"

"Alfred!" Matthew sighed in exasperation.

"I think they left," Alfred said, ignoring all of his brother's pleas. "We should follow them back to the hotel."

Matthew was thankful when they finally left that bush. The leaves were itchy and the branches kept snagging their clothes and scratching their skin. Despite the time of day (or night, rather), the air was still humid, and being stuck to another person for twenty minutes at that close of a proximity did no favours for one's body odour. As soon as they returned to the hotel, Matthew was going to take a long, icy bath.

"I don't see them," said Alfred, turning around on the spot to get his bearings. "Where could they have gone off to?"

The bush sat just at the edge of the sand, offering a perfect viewpoint of the coastline and, to that effect, Francis and Arthur. But somehow they managed to escape the watchful eye of the brothers—if their long trail of footprints away from the water was any indication.

"The fireworks stopped, so of course they left," said Matthew. He sighed rather forlornly up at the heavens. "Sorry that we had to miss your birthday, Al. We could do a little celebration later if you want."

Alfred waved a hand. "Nah, that's okay. There's still next year, and the year after that, and every year afterwards. Besides, we missed your birthday, too. So it's only fair."

Matthew offered a weary smile. "Thanks, I guess. Should we head back?"

"Yeah, sure. I suppose I can always ask the geezers how their vacation went later. What time is it, by the way?"

Matthew checked his phone. The time read 9:40. "We've got twenty minutes until curfew. If we walk back now, we can make it with ten-ish minutes to spare."

"Cool. Let's go."

Their hotel on Kauai was less lavished than their previous, but it still had a cozy lobby to welcome visitors. A lone employee sat at the front counter reading a magazine while the TV played quietly in the background.

Alfred stretched his arms over his head, yawning as he entered the foyer. "Man, I'm beat. You wanna grab something to eat before we head up, Mattie?"

"Why not?"

"Hi, boys," greeted a clipped voice. A newspaper lowered to reveal a displeased England sitting, legs crossed, on the couch. "How are you doing?"

"Whoa!" Alfred jumped, nearly falling over. His eyes darted about the lobby for any place to run. Arthur's parental glare, however, glued him to his place. "H-hey, Arthur . . . What are you doing here? Shouldn't you be, uh, up?"

"I should ask you the same thing," said Arthur. He flipped his newspaper closed and stood. "Why are you here, Alfred? —Matthew, don't even think about running."

Matthew stopped in the middle of his stride, nearly reaching the elevator to go up. He hung his head and shuffled back. "Sorry, Arthur."

"Oh, you found them, Arthur. Good," said Francis, returning from the hotel cafe with two cups of tea. He handed one to Arthur and kept the other for himself. "How are your evenings so far, les enfants? Is Hawaii treating you well?"

Alfred and Matthew shared a look, a silent conversation passing between them.

"I know what this may look like," said Alfred, "but my and Mattie's being here has nothing to do with you. We wanted a vacation too. This is all—"