2p!Hetalia Boyfriend Scenarios

18: Incomplete

WHEN HE MISSES YOU

(istg I'm not yelling lmao.)

[This will be from his perspective]

Warning: cussing and fluff and possible heartbreak

Francois Bonnefoy (2P! France)

He buried his head into the palms of his hands. Three months and two more months to suffer. Francois had been aching to touch you, not to satisfy his lust but to satisfy his undying love for you. All the while, his eyes darted towards women, having only one thing in mind as he eyed them down;

They weren't you; the girl who stole his heart as she sat alone in the bar on that faithful night.

"Did someone die or some shit?" A voice asked, anchoring Francois back to reality. They both sat in a café, taking a break from the meeting. Francois sat with his untouched cup of black coffee as Allen devoured the sundae he ordered. "It's nothing," the Frenchman grumbles as he mentally rolled his eyes at his American comrade. "Is it (Y/N)? How can you miss her? You just fucking talked to her on the phone," Allen said, completely annoying Francois. "You'll have your country bankrupted with all that swearing and besides, it's miserable to live without the love of your life. Shouldn't you feel the same?" Francois snapped, leaving the American in front of him silent.

Allen Jones (2P! America)

Francois hit right home on that note. It's been three fucking months since he last saw you and he missed you more than he expected he would. Often pushing his thoughts aside, he entertained himself with the smallest of things; in essence, the (favorite flavor) sundae. He returned to his hotel room, engulfed by the feel of loneliness and emptiness. Tossing his jacket aside to a random direction, he let himself fall into the comfort of the mattress underneath him. He stared at the ceiling, feeling like something was missing. He knew exactly what it was. He needed you in his arms, laughing at his jokes and sassing him when he said something rude.

He scoffed at himself at the thoughts of you. Had he really gone that soft? Well, it was the obvious truth and he can't deny it, no matter how much he tries to. He got  up and grabbed his phone from the bedside table. Perhaps one of the factors that can have him broke as fuck, besides swearing, was the fact that his phone bill consisted of numerous calls to get to you. After a few rings, he got your voicemail. He sighed, feeling shitty. "She's probably not even thinking about me. Come on, Allen. Just stop it already. It'll be over soon. Just two more months."

Mathieu Williams (2P! Canada)

Canada sat alone in the dark corner of his hotel room. The others were at the meeting room, somewhere around Berlin but who cares? He's not going to listen to their bullshit. He blankly stared at the ceiling; his mind drifting off to the thought of you. "At least Kumakuro is there to protect her, right?" He asked to no one in particular. "Does she think of me? Heck, does she miss me? I wonder if she's making pancakes right now-- Great. I'm going insane talking to myself," he argued with himself.

"Stupid shitty country without (Y/N)," Matt grumbles, climbing on to bed. For once in his entire life, he felt like a wimp. Even pancakes didn't satisfied him anymore. There was something seriously wrong with his brain now that you've plagued every nook and cranny of it. "When I get back, I swear to God..." He sighs in loneliness. "I'll never leave anywhere without her ever again."

Oliver Kirkland (2P! England)

1456 hours. 35 minutes. 57 seconds.

And counting.

His eyes stared longingly at the timer he had set, counting down the painful moments before he finally had the chance to hold you. The meeting, as usual, was getting no where. The others were arguing as Ollie was the only one who was silent and sitting on his chair, staring at the mobile device in his freckled hands. Allen, noticing how deadly quiet Oliver is, assumed that he was planning to murder them all. "Uh... Freckles, Are you okay there?" The American asked. Ollie looked up with glossy eyes. Blinking them away he responded with a nod. "Of course, why wouldn't I be?" He faintly smiled. "Because James and I have been cursing a lot and you still haven't whipped out the swear jar," Allen says with smug smirk. "You really love her that much, huh?"

Oliver nods as he looked down at his fingers. "Yes, I just miss her so much. I wish to hold her in my arms and kiss-- Did you just said you cussed, you bloody git?" Ollie sneers at the now panicking American. "Shit, he cussed! The world is ending! We're all gonna die!" Allen told his brother, Matt.

True, Oliver missed you but for now, he has to sue those countries with bad mouths.

Luciano Vargas (2P! Italy)

The Italian sat on the centre chair of the elongated table; the sound of the other nations bickering faded into obscurity. He felt bothered to be absolute truthful. It bothered him that everything he looked at reminded him of you. It was getting idiotic really.

A chair?

(Y/N) sits on chairs.

Wait.

Everyone sits on chairs!

Luciano you bastardo!

You're going crazy!

"Luciano, why so silent?" A certain German by the name of Lutz said with a sly grin. Luciano snarled at him with a scowl and a glare that could kill. "Unless you want another scar on you face, don't bother me," he snapped. "It's the girl isn't it?" Lutz guessed at his comrade's unusual behaviour. Luciano looked down; his hair and hat brushing past his eyes. "Lutz... I am warning you..." Luciano seethed through his teeth with his fists clenched. Staying silent, Lutz stared teasingly at his comrade with a knowing look. The Luciano he knew wouldn't put out a warning, he would waste no time attacking.

Luciano was whipped, there was no use denying it.