Please Don't Take My Breath Away

Chapter 1

Notes: Hello everyone! Welcome to my first Hetalia fic! Just a heads up, I like the idea of Canada speaking french when he's not fully aware. So, the translations for these phrases will be in the comments beside them. Also, I like to think of Matthew & Alfred as brothers, nothing more. So, there will be no romantic references.

Also, this was supposed to be a one-shot, but apparently I am incapable of writing one-shots of an acceptable length, so this will be split into parts :)

Chapter One

Canada's skates glided effortlessly over the ice. Every time he would stop or make a hard turn, minuscule chrysalises of ice would fly out to the side, causing a snow-like powder to cover the frozen river's surface. There were two nets set up at either bank of the wide river, and several pucks littered the ice. The stick in the nation's hand felt familiar as he shot another puck toward the net.

After shooting his tenth puck, Matthew sighed in defeat. The sun shone down on him, making him uncomfortable in his jersey. It was warmer today than most winter days, but Matthew didn't mind too much - it wasn't anything he couldn't handle.

That was exactly why Canada had invited some nations over to play hockey. It was going to be a warmer afternoon, but the temperature was supposed to drop drastically once the sun set, setting the perfect atmosphere for hot chocolate by the fire after some hockey. He thought it would set the perfect mood for the upcoming meeting with the nations.

But just his luck - it seemed as if everyone had forgotten.

"It's not the first time, you should be used to it by now." He grumbled to himself.

Although the rational part of his brain knew it was true, it still stung. It left a cavity in his chest - one that was formed a long time ago, and certainly wasn't going to be filled any time soon.

He sat down on the ice, tracing the skid marks left there by himself. His lungs filled with the crisp air, the kind that only appeared in winter, leaving your lungs feeling fresh and new.

Being forgotten wasn't new to Matthew Williams, it happened all too often. Even his own bear forgot he existed, muttering a "who are you?" before Matthew left for the river.

He knew it shouldn't affect him this much, lord knows he hates attention. Being given the spotlight was his worst nightmare. But part of him ached to have someone remember him, give him a call every so often to ask how he's doing, or even just for his name to be mentioned in passing conversation.

Although he knew that he could've just voiced what he was feeling, he never did. He knew he was insignificant, from the day he was born. His brother was always upstaging him, and he had this feeling that Britan and France had only kept him around for their amusement. Now those days were over, he was a nation now and no longer needed the care from his brothers. That meant that they no longer needed him either.

The only thought that comforted Matthew, was that if Alfred, Arthur and Francis had forgotten about him, they weren't worried about him.

He remembered the last time they worried about him. He had gotten into an accident, a stupid one, really. But he ended up breaking his ribs and left forearm. He skipped the meeting he was supposed to go to, and apparently, Alfred noticed he wasn't there. All three of the older nations came to tend to his wounds. And although you might think he should be happy they remembered him, he wasn't. They worried about him so much. He hated when they did that, the guilt and anxiety etched into their faces.

He shook the image from his mind. That's right, if they're not thinking about me they're not worrying.

*****