Connected (2P Hetalia x Reader)

Chapter One-Fools

{Unknown POV}
It was a normal dreary start of the day, even though the sunrises and sunsets are beautiful here I can't explain it but, it's like something is missing. I can tell the others feel it as well we just don't talk to each other much.

Most days we only talk amongst the ones we enjoy the company of, so as you may tell I don't get around much. Everything bores me, there's nothing to do here, but why does it feel like I should be looking for something?

I spend most of my days outside around the lake, it's nice a quiet there and no one finds me. It's also a nice place to smoke without being yelled at.

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A bright sunlight shone through my open curtains that I forgot to close that night and is what unfortunately wakes me up. I try blocking the light out by covering my head with my blankets but I was already awake and unable to fall back asleep. I sit up and groan at my stiffness, as I try stretching it out my phone buzzes and I check it.

No one important. As always, I'll just put in my headphones and bug other people then.

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I flip the last finished pancake onto a plate that held its stack, grab the syrup, and make my way through the large hallways into the even bigger living room. I'll never get used to this place. But I guess we'll be here for awhile. At least they have my TV channels.

I'm slowly adjusting to the new place, I hate moving so often but they say since this is an undiscovered island, everyone doesn't feel discomfort in living in another country. I for one like it here, there's a huge forest behind the house that I have yet to discover all of.

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I saw a figure leave the kitchen and I then know it was now empty. I began looking through the cabinets pulling out the flour, sugar, butter, milk, eggs, vanilla, baking soda, salt, and water. I turn on the oven and mix all the ingredients together and began pouring the batter in cupcake cups.

I for one love it here. It's so lovely compared to all the other places we've been too, the kitchen is simply splendid. I'm just a little sad no one is interested in having one of my cupcakes...

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Today was partly cloudy with the sun peaking out every now and then, a perfect day to walk through the gardens. It was the first thing I renovated when the house was built. There were large bushes, an abundance of roses and other assortments of flowers, a small pond with a fountain, cobblestone pathways and the best part, cherry trees that had began to bloom.

I can't do much here in means of my usual business, but I get things done, and it's nice to take a break now and then. I only wish I could share the beauty I have created but, I know if I show the others they'd mock me or even worse destroy it to get back at me for petty grudges.

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Every day is the same as the last, most see me as a delinquent, irresponsible, and a sleaze, but deep down I'm not that. There is a town six miles from the house, I visit it often but only for one thing. Books. They have a huge library that has books that date back to fallen country times. I'm usually the only one interested in going into town so I pick up all of the supplies. Food, necessities, books, and other randomness but I'm the only one interested in literature.

I pick up my new book Leviathan Wakes and set it in my basket that is filled with snacks I snuck from the kitchen, and a blanket. I make my way outside and sit under my usual spot, a part of the house no one visits, and even if they did I'd pretend to be asleep, a giant oak tree. It must have been hundreds of years old of how tall it is. But the part of the house I sit in front of is a like a mud room-porch, it's lined with French glass doors and the only things inside is a grand piano.

I remember when my brother played piano for me when I read, I wish he were here now to play for me or anyone for that matter.

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I knew of his cherry tree all along, how could he hide the cherry blossoms that flew in the breeze that lead into my open window. I like it here, it's quiet, just the way the world should be. I can do whatever I please without anyone bothering me, drawing, painting, reading, I just wish there were better service.

I know a lot of things that happen here. François thinks no one sees him walk off to the lake, but I see him. Allen thinks no one hears him cry at night, I do. Matt thinks he is the only one with his pain, but I've felt with the same kind. If only he talked to someone about it. Oliver thinks no one wants his cupcakes but in reality, everyone steals one when he isn't looking. Luciano thinks we don't know about his garden, everyone does. Lutz thinks we're stupid enough to not see the books he brings home or stashes behind the oak tree when he pretends to be asleep. Me and Luci know Flavio just wants to make clothes for us, he does, and we love them, we just pretend not to. Viktor knows we know about his sunflowers, he doesn't care. And Xiao thinks I don't care about him. I do.

Things would be a lot better if something broke our silence.

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{Your POV}
A breeze wisps my hair softly around, occasionally ending up in my face between my lips or stuck to my eyelashes. Miami is gorgeous in the beginning of spring, it's hot but not crazy like during the summertime. I sat in the passenger seat next to my mom who was the driver and the owner of the topless Jeep that drove nearer to the destined bridge.

They say you never cherish something until you've lost it. Bring a naïve seventeen year old, you have yet to taste the real world and that true meaning. And yet to have that thought cross your mind until it's sunken into the bottom of a bay with you in tow. I should be at the bottom of the Biscayne Bay, rotting next to my deceased mother, yet here I am.

Nowhere.