The prince and the tyrant (2P Prussia x 2P canada) 2P hetalia

Chapter 2: The Dead Eyes

This is it. The long-awaited party. Klaus got out of the carriage. It took a few hours to get here. Klaus spent his time engaged in a book while Lutz snoozed a bit to get some more energy. Reading was really helping Klaus keep his mind somewhere else, but now his mind had nothing but the party to think about.

Maybe it wouldn't be so bad. Maybe Lutz was right. Maybe Klaus should loosen up a little. Maybe it would be so bad. Maybe Matt will hate him. Maybe this will be the downfall of the country of Prussia. Klaus shook his head. He shouldn't think about all this, nothing even happened yet so he shouldn't worry.

The two brothers were walking side by side as they approached the entrance. The most notable thing upon coming closer was two bushes in the shape of griffon's sitting on each side of the door. They didn't look, or at least feel, elegant like most of the hedge statues they've seen before. These ones had an odd eeriness to them.

Klaus glanced over at Lutz. "Your hair is messy..." he commented in a whisper, looking back ahead.

"So?" Lutz asked in an emotionless, uncaring way. He was too busy looking at the banners of the dark stone walls, the suits of armor that lined the hallway, and of course the weapons that hung high on the walls.

"So, you should maybe fix it a bit?" Klaus made a final attempt to keep his brother looking as formal as he did when they left the castle.Lutz shrugged and said "Nah." which made Klaus sigh lightly. There was no helping this man, 

was there.

But it didn't matter much. They were already there by then. The room looked elegant. Tall glass windows lined the walls, the floors were made out of beautiful marble, and the ceiling held a beautiful crystal chandelier that illuminated the whole room. The guests were having fun, dancing to the music provided by an orchestra, and making conversation as they drank champagne and any of the other assorted drinks being served by the waiters. Everyone was dressed nicely. The girls in their big poofy dresses, and the boys with their formal suits. Everyone was having a good time! Everyone but the main event of the party.

Klaus couldn't help but notice the one and only king of Canada, sitting upon his throne looking down on the events taking place. Something felt off about his atmosphere... what felt even worse was then he locked eyes with Klaus.

Klaus stood there staring. He felt as though he couldn't look away. Those dull, bored, violet, eyes froze him in place with the cold stare he had. This was the man who mercilessly stole land from America. Who made his country fearful. Who made even the strongest of kings shake in their boots. His eyes alone felt intense. Klaus felt too uneasy from the stare to even let out a breath. His eyes not only looked dead but... felt dead. Lifeless. They were eyes that you'd see on a corpse. Unmoving and locked in place; right on Klaus. They lacked the light you'd find in normal eyes. They were missing something, they felt abnormal. Like the eyes of a predator looking for prey.

Klaus finally broke the stare and looked down at the floor, quickly catching his breath once again. What was that? He's never seen eyes like that before, with such a deadly stare down from all the away across the room.

By the time he looked back up, it had seemed that Lutz was gone. He went off to enjoy himself somewhere, leaving Klaus alone.

But that moment of loneliness didn't last nearly as long as Klaus hoped it would. He was quickly found by his friend. "Flavio!" Klaus exclaimed as Flavio swung an arm around him. He had startled Klaus from his sudden appearance.

"Miss me Bello~?" Flavio asked with a smile. Flavio was the prince of Italy. He had a twin brother named Luciano who was probably here somewhere too. Flavio was Klaus' best friend. Italy and Prussia were neighboring countries so they ended up spending a decent amount of time together. He was wearing a nice white outfit, his hair was dyed blonde, and his eyes were a deep shade of red that matched his brothers. Flavio had a great sense in style. It was basically 'his thing'.