2p!Hetalia Boyfriend Scenarios

47: Hell Hath No Fury

He was one of Francois' more tough and scary guards that you were wary to approach because he looks like he eats courage and pain for a living. Simeon really was the only one you were close with. Anton is, by complexion, quite pale and with the long scar that ran through his right eye, he nearly looks like a ghost. But that didn't mean that you should be rude to him, or anything. That's why you're trying to, at the very least, strike a conversation with him.

"What brings you here? I thought you and the others were back at the-"

A squeak escapes your mouth as Anton suddenly slams his hand on the table. You look around and saw that the other customers were startled by it too, but none of them were too bothered to get up and leave or complain about it. Fingers unexpectedly squished your cheeks and faced you towards the grumpy man in front of you.

Why is he acting this way?

"You weaken him," he growls, much to your confusion. "Before you came, we were one of the most powerful and now we're being laughed at because the ice cold-hearted king of the night has been thawed by a useless imbecile. And now he's thinking of settling down? Pathétique."

Tears were stinging your eyes at this point. His hold on your jaw tightened some more, causing a whimper to come out. "Oh, ne pleure pas," he mocks you as though he was speaking to a child. All of a sudden, he harshly releases his hold on you, causing you to hiss in pain. He stands, adjusting his coat and dusting his hands as though he touched something filthy. Anton looked at you once more, this time, with a face void of any mockery and taunting.

"Just leave now," he threatens you, "while you still can."

(Translations according to Mr. Google: imbecile = idiot, pathétique = how pathetic, ne pleure pas = don't cry)

ALLEN JONES

Allen Jones really loves surprises, whether he'll ever admit that or not, which is why he loves you. Clearly the epitome of surprises, you were, to him, the most enthralling conundrum he had ever seen-an endless hot mess of tangles and knots to which he'd never mind to take the time unravelling all of you. The things you do still catches him off guard, and so he thought, why not do the same?

The foolhardy American stood with a prideful stance, devious smirk and all, in front of the building where you worked. The regular ol' bat he brought along instead of his nailed one was hung over one shoulder as one hand brushes through his sweating locks. Through the tint of his black shades, his red eyes caught the flirtatious looks sent through the hooded eyelids of some women. His smirk tugged a tad bit upwards. It wasn't because he wanted them back, but because of the fact that they weren't you, therefore they're ultimately out of the things he'd do-COUGHcoUGh.

At last, he caught sight of your (h/c) hair and that old leather jacket of his that he let you take earlier this morning. The devilish grin of his grew wider at the plan he concocted to sneak up on you. He looked like an absolute idiot, trailing behind you as though he was Swiper. Still, he remained a few meters behind, planning to tackle you in a dark alley and scare the daylights out of you.

Out of nowhere, he saw a man suspiciously dressed in black walking ahead, seemingly following you as well. The man had a greying mullet for hair, and looked like a character that jumped out from the 80s. From his built, Allen guessed that this man headed to the gym a lot as well. No matter how ridiculous the man looked, Allen still worried about you.

Allen could tell that you noticed the stranger. He could practically feel the wild thumping of your heart. No doubt, your stalker could sense it as well.