This is based on Gakuen Hetalia and centres around Alfred(America) and Arthur(England).
Happy reading!

From A Secret Admirer

Chapter 1: Because, because, because

One conclusion could always be drawn from history classes: It was the most boring subject in the entire world. Except of course, if the teacher was discussing something about the American Revolution and how they gained independence or the fact that America had a really rapid growth spurt, managing to be under the rule of another for only ten years. That would be awesome.

Today, the teacher was babbling on about the spice trade or something along those lines. History when America was definitely not involved. Oh, joy. He could feel his eyes steadily drooping to the steady rhythm of his teacher's rants, slowly drifting off into the land of dreams where he might hopefully meet his alien friend Tony.

Usually, Alfred would have already been to his said friend's place, if not for one unbidden thought:

The love letter which he had received shortly after break.

He couldn't say it was much of a surprise. Frankly, Alfred was the Golden Boy of the school, girls fawned over him and guys wanted to be his best friends all the time. The teachers might not have put him on a pedestal, but they had a certain liking towards his open demeanour. Hey, who could resist his boyish charms and totally awesome personality? Except maybe, that student council president with a stick up his ass who tends to berate him for everything he does, but that is besides the point.

It would be crazy to say that sometimes Alfred would try to catch said president's eye by bending some school rules or make a fool out of himself during lunch. Or say that Alfred was attracted to those brilliantly green eyes which turned acidic when angered and that sharp tongue when he was scolding another or that sexy british accent... Yes, it would be crazy to say so.

So it would be that Alfred F. Jones was pondering over his latest love letter during history lesson. Most times, a love letter left on his table would just be politely skimmed through and end up in the trash as soon as he reached home, but this particular one seemed to be special. There was something about it, something which made him read it carefully, soaking up every word with his blue eyes, imprinting it in his brain. There was just this something, something which held Alfred tightly in its clutches and would not let go.

He turned his gaze to the history teacher who looked bored as she continued with her droning, even though half the class had their attention elsewhere. The only ones who were remotely listening to whatever jargon she had this time was his sweet, timid twin brother, Matthew and the ever hardworking aforementioned president, Arthur Kirkland. He was diligently taking notes as he listened with rapt attention to the lesson. Was it just Alfred or was there an odd sparkle in his green eyes? Excitement was it? Nah, it couldn't be.

Seeing as no one would be brought back to the world of the living within the nest quarter of an hour, Alfred slipped the love letter from his trouser pocket underneath the thick history textbook. One more read would not hurt.

I heard that you liked girls who are shorter than you. Perhaps I should start getting rid of my heel stuffing and start wearing flat sneakers tomorrow, even if it will be a weekend?

Well, you see, it is because if I run into you at the convenience store you frequent or something, I would be thoroughly prepared. There is an obligation for me to think about these things to keep my sanity when I unwillingly meet you.

Going that far... even if I get you to like me by doing that, wouldn't I no longer be myself? Wouldn't I be moulding myself into one of those stereotypic girls who hang about you? Oh well. I suppose it would be moderately fine. It's not like I just do this for anyone.

I like you so much, I just can't help it. I want to suit your tastes better, I want to be closer to what you like. Is this self-transformation wrong? Changing myself just for you, is this an abnormality?

Why? Why? Why? Why must I do so?

Because, because, because... that's just how much I want this love come true.

When our eyes meet, I get so embarrassed. I tend to pretend like I'm looking far away. But even when I avert my eyes, I still try to keep you in the corner of my vision. Just to be sure.

But when I think about it, just by doing that, maybe, just maybe, you were looking at me. A little bit, a little bit perhaps. Were you? "No, it's just a misunderstanding.." "No, it's just your imagination.." I say to myself, because if I keep my hopes up, I'll end up crying again with a hollow chest in my heart.

I love you so much that you even manage to appear in my dreams. Weird is it not? But even when you appear in my dreams, I look away. I'm so stupid, aren't I? Averting my gaze from you, even when I know full well I'm just dreaming.

Why, why, why? Why do I still write this letter to you?

Because, because, because...

I love you so much, so so much, I can't help it. I want to be closer to what you like, I want to make you happy. I like you and there's nothing I can do, so all I can achieve is to grow more confident. Surely, someday, I want to tell you. But please wait for now, as I'm afraid to rush my feelings on you. I'm scared I'll mess up my only chance.

Once again, I couldn't say "I like you" as a start, not even today.

Because I can't say "I love you" yet, I'll lock these feelings away in my heart for now. Because, because, because, I don't want to fail. I definitely want to fulfil this love.

I want to make this love come true.

From,
A secret admirer.

He turned the letter over in his hand, touching the edges of the white paper. Whoever this 'secret admirer' was, she was different. No fancy paper was used, no elaborate envelopes or spraying of perfume. No ribbons, sparkles, glitter, flowers or any trace of pink ink either. The handwriting itself was neat, almost businesslike, instead of the twirly cursive he normally received.

Alfred had a nagging feeling at the back of his brain, one which he was at a loss to acknowledge or not. Was the writer of this letter possibly a guy? It was surprising, but not shocking since the whole school knew that Alfred swung both ways. He was teased at the beginning, but never advanced into bullying or worse things.

Another thought, though for this one he dare not hope nor would he try to reject it completely, for he would lose his mind. Would the writer of this letter possibly be... be the infamous Arthur Kirkland...? No, no, no! It couldn't possibly be! There was no way in heaven or hell that the Arthur Kirkland, model student and feisty little Brit would send him a letter such as this!

… Would he?

He shook his head repeatedly, making the stray cowlick on his head bob up and down. Clearing his throat, he pushed his glasses further up the bridge of his nose and tried to rid himself of the tell-tale blush climbing up his cheeks and neck.

For a moment, for a very brief moment, he thought he caught a speck of green out of the corner of his eye.

Yet it was gone by the time he realised it.

End of the first chapter! There will be about three in total.
Thank you for reading this story! I hope you have enjoyed it and will stick around for the next few updates (I promise to do so as soon as I can).
Any requests, suggestions and rants could be made by sending me a PM or through my FB account by the same name.

Until next time!