Hetalia Oneshots

Prussia - Masked

You were a rising new singer in the music industry. In a few months, you received such immense fame, that even you were so surprised. You didn't think posting covers of songs on YouTube got you an unimaginable amount of fame.

But the downside was, you were getting stalked. In order to avoid that, your manager thought it would be good if you had a bodyguard. You had no choice, so you agreed. 

One day, a few months after your debut, you were working on a single in your messy studio. Pencils, guitars and other equipment dotted the floors. You groaned tiredly and sat back on your swivel chair.

You had bags on your eyes, since you didn't get enough sleep and you were hungry. Just before you could get back to work after a little break, you heard your doorbell ring.

You opened the door to find Alice, your manager, along with a black suited, tall young man. He had white hair, giving you the feeling that he was probably albino. His skin was white like paper and his irises were a beautiful hue of crimson

"____!" Alice exclaimed.

"Stop screaming. We're trying to shoo away stalkers, not attract them." you grumbled.

"Sorry about that." she laughed, "By the way, this is your new bodyguard! His name is Gilbert Bielschmidt."

"Ah..." You nodded and held out your hand, "I'm ____. Nice to meet you."

"Same here." He grinned. 

----

Months passed and it didn't take long for you and Gilbert to become friends. You were surprised to find out that he knew about music and all its deep intricacies. You even found yourself asking him about a few things when you were stumped, and he'd shower you with helpful tips.

Your manager, Alice was happy to see both of you getting along nicely. 

One fine day, as usual, you were carefully trying to produce music for your first album on your computer. Gilbert was wandering around your house, looking out the windows into the deserted area carefully.

You let out a tired and frustrated groan, which Gilbert heard. Some part of the track wasn't sounding right and you didn't know what it was. You kept down your headphones, walked into a little room where you kept a punching bag.

After landing a few angry punches on the bag, you felt better, came back to the studio and sat down in front of your computer once again. Gilbert was giving you a curious look, wondering why he heard angry shouts from the neighboring room.

"Are you having a problem?" he asked.

"Yeah." You sighed and leaned back on your swivel chair. He walked up to you and bent down to look at the computer screen.

You remember him telling you that he had some experience in producing, so you trusted his counsel. And his suggestions did prove to be useful.

While he was telling you what was possibly wrong in the track, you were too fixated on his face, which was just a few centimeters away from yours. The way his silver hair fell over his forehead, his pale white skin, his beautiful eyes; he looked other-worldly and ethereal, almost like he came from a fantasy novel.

This could be a potentially good song. If I had enough feelings, I could turn it into a rather sappy romantic song.

"____, are you listening?" His voice suddenly brought you back to Earth. 

"Huh? Oh, yes I am." You nodded hastily.

"What was I saying now?" He asked, flashing a little smirk at you.