Someone could use a hero (hetalia fanfic)

Someone could use a hero chapter 13

Chapter 13

   I trudged through the snowy streets of New York. It’s been four months, yet I still haven’t had the courage to talk to Alfred or Vash. Instead, I’ve become close friends with Matthew and Arthur. I know I must look like the world’s biggest coward right now, but that dream I had back in September still shook me up. If I pick one, then the other will flip out; so I found it easier to pick neither and stay single until university.

“Am I really that much of a coward?” I asked Matt, who was walking alongside me.

“What do you mean?” he asked.

“Well, it’s been four months, and I haven’t talked to either of them,” I sighed.

He knew immediately what I was talking about, “I don’t think it’s cowardly. It might’ve been easier on you if they were humans, but knowing they’re powerful countries can intimidate you.”

I sighed, “I know, but I should be able to talk to them by now.”

He laced his gloved hand through mine, “When you’re ready, Chrissy.”

Mattie and I have grown so close that I’ve noticed we’ve been acting like a couple without the making out lately. He knows about my decision to stay single and he respects it so I’m not the least bit worried. Besides, he has a crush on someone, but he won’t say who it is; all I know is it’s definitely not me. The first thing he said when He admitted to having a crush on someone was that it wasn’t me, earning a laugh from both of us. He explained to me that all the countries are bisexual and often hook up with one another; sometimes even members of their family. I was surprisingly unfazed by the thought of incest; maybe because they’re not blood related.

“The provinces are coming down for a visit soon,” he told me.

“Really? Sounds like fun, but why?”

“They missed me at Christmas; as soon as they found out the states were coming they said no way. I guess they hate the stereotypes the Americans put on them; especially my poor Atlantic provinces. I don’t think Newfoundland appreciated being called a fish smelling fiddler playing alcoholic last Christmas,” he grimaced at the memory.

I chuckled, “Who called him that?”

He sighed, “Texas.”

“I figured,” I replied, “Are they coming to the academy?”

He shook his head, “They take their schooling separately based on their own specific curriculum. So they’ll be tearing up the house while we’re at school. I can only speak for Quebec, though.”

“I think it’ll be fun to meet them,” I grinned.

He smiled, “I’m glad you think that way.”

We continued walking, without a destination in mind, we were basically wandering around the city.

“Are you cold?” he asked.

“A little,” I replied. A little was a major understatement; I was freezing! But I didn’t want to seem like a whiner so I just shrugged it off.

“Are you sure?” He pressed, “You’re shivering.”

It was true, through the thick down winter coat, my arms had goose bumps.

“Okay, I might be a little cold,” I mumbled sheepishly.

He guided me into a café and sat me down to a seat.

“What are you doing?” I asked.

“Warming you up,” he chuckled. He went over to the counter and ordered something. He returned with two steaming mugs. I couldn’t identify the liquid inside through the whipped cream and chocolate shavings on top, but it looked good. He set the drinks down and sat across from me.