berseker: (Default)
[personal profile] berseker
Title: The Flying Heart of Love 8/?
Rating: ... Pgish, sort of. Maybe not.
Characters: Luciano, Martín, Maria, Manuel and Miguel, the mysterious foreign siblings. And girl!Cuba Alícia.
Pairings: Br/Arg, Pe/Chi, and many many others.
Warnings: This is an AU, so you'll have to ignore everything you know about family relations and things from what passes for canon at Latin Hetalia. I MEAN IT. BE WARNED.



Summary: Martín is forced to deal with his feeeeeeeelings, Maria is forced to deal with a belligerent friend, Luciano is forced to deal with a creepy and sexy Francis. And Manu is forced to deal with a recipe book, but he's not in this chapter. Also, kittens.



Thanks to Zu for reading it over for me ♥







*~*~*


Episode 10


*~*~*




Maria was just finishing her breakfast when Martín stormed in.

She was pleased to see he hadn’t had as much fun as her. Being abandoned at the dumb restaurant had almost ruined everything, but before she could decide how she was going to murder him, Maddie and Alfred had offered to pay for her dinner, so she didn’t have to do the dishes or whatever it was that they did to people who couldn’t pay for the food. Being spared this humiliation improved her mood, and anyway they both had agreed that Martín was an asshole. And then later she had the apartment all to herself, so in the end things had been fun. She just wished she could have invited them in, but that would be going a bit too far.

The point was, now Maria was finishing her cereal, vaguely deciding how she would decorate her own apartment when she had one, and trying to remember fun places to show the Twin Tourists, when Martín kicked the door down.

Well, almost.

“I see you had fun,” she said, coldly, because he deserved it even if she had enjoyed herself, “And I still want my money back.”

“Don't talk to me.”

But he opened his wallet, got a bunch of notes and slammed them on the table.

“Thank you, especially for the kindness. It’s not my fault if you two had a fight.”

“We hadn't, not that it's any of your business, and I wasted my time for nothing and-”

“Ok, whatever you say,” she daintily wiped her lips, “I'll take a walk now, see you later.”

She thought he would complain, and then she’d explain she really most emphatically didn’t want to know what he had been doing, but Martín gave her a withering glare and didn’t even ask where she was going. His face reached a very interesting shade of red, and then, when she thought he would burst a vein, he turned on his heels and went to his office.

She heard the door slamming.

Maria half-considered going there to comfort him, or at least listen to his rants, but Martín was a total bitch when he was in those moods, and he had left her alone so he had it coming.

Her only concession to his anger was locking the door when she left to the hotel.

Sadly, it wasn't Manuel at the reception. Maria would have loved to waltz in to see what he would do. It was some dude she hadn't seen before, who called Alfred and Maddie for her.

They met her in less than five seconds.

“Hey there, I thought you weren't coming,” Alfred said, to Maddie's consternation and Maria's surprise.

“Really? I'm not that late.”

“Yes, you are! You said nine, and now it's almost nine thirty.”

“I'm sorry,” Maddie said, “Ignore him, we're really happy you could-”

“I never said we weren’t happy, just that she was late -”

“Thirty minutes! That’s not even late, I’m surprised you even noticed,” Maria said, cutting in, “Anyway, I'm here now.”

Alfred stared at her.

Then he grinned.

“Ok, I'll forgive you this time. Let's go then, before we get even more late.”

“I didn't ask for your forgiveness-” she started, but Maddie touched her shoulder.

“He wanted to see you again,” she whispered, when Alfred turned to open the door. “But ignore him, he's like that.”

“Ah. Well. It was nothing,” she said. “Wanted to see me, like, as in, see me, or just-”

Maddie smiled, sweet and kind and cute, and went outside to meet her brother. Without answering her.

Maria didn't mind. This was interesting.

“I thought we should take the bus,” she said, “It's only fifteen minutes. Unless you don't want to wait that much.”

Alfred snorted at her. Maria grinned back.

When they finally got out of the bus, it was just a matter of crossing the street and turning left and they were right in front of the orphanage, with the happy archway decorated with smiling tomatoes.

“And here we are,” she said, “Those rooms over there are for the administrative stuff. He's usually there, and I don't know how he works because there's always someone there with him. Like, seriously, if you blow your nose in the other side of the place, someone will run there to tell him, so he knows everything. And since we've been here for... twenty seconds, he probably heard about it already, he has eyes everywhere, it’s freaking amazing.”

She saw them exchanging a brief glance, and ignored it. It was the truth, and she had the right to be bitter about it. One day she'd find out who had told him about that incident with the skipping rope and the washing machine, and then someone would pay.

“We’d like to talk to him,” Alfred said, just a little bit sly, “To… shake his hand because it’s such an awesome place and all. Maybe make a few questions.”

“About how awesome it is,” Maddie explained.

“I’ll check with him later,” Maria said, totally planning not to. Don Antonio was too weird, what if he was in one of his insane days? “Anyway, the dormitories are over there. That ghastly red one with the giant tomato on the door is the nursery. I had nightmares with that thing, because he was always saying it would come alive and chase us if we didn’t eat our tomato soup. I hate tomato soup. There’s the playground-”

“A kitty! Hey, kitty!”

“… with our million cats. This one is… we don’t have a name for her yet.”

“I think she likes me! Hey girl. Aww cute kitty-”

“We have twenty six cats now. Don Antonio is always threatening to drown them. ”

“-who has the cutest whiskers, you do, yes you-”

“Alfred, come on. You can't just stay there playing with cats, we- oh. Who are they?”

She meant a group of six or seven teenagers crossing the playground now. Maria turned, following her gaze.

Well, fuck.

“Don’t bother with them. No one there speaks English, except for Alicia, and she hates it.”

“Oh. Alright,” Maddie said, looking down again.

“Trust me, Alícia is great but she’s also insane, and you two should probably hide- oh God she saw you. Try not to move.”

But it was too late. Alicia said goodbye to the others and came right in their direction. Double fuck, then.


Maria grinned at her, as brightly as she could.

“Hi, Ali, this is Maddie, this is Alfred, I'm sure you're very busy now so-”

The twins complimented her, Maddie with her sweetly accented hi and Alfred, still kneeling on the floor petting the cat, with a very enthusiastic hello, and Alicia smiled.

Maria knew that smile.

So did many visitors who would probably never forget it.

“Americans, visiting our poor orphanage!” the girl said, “How great! How long have they been here? Are they feeling good about themselves?”


Maddie’s smile dropped from her face. And Alfred stared, sitting on his heels.


“Not anymore,” Maria said, “And now that we know each other we can keep going-”

“Wait, what was that?” Alfred said, “What's the problem with visiting?”

“None, she's just trying to start a fight,” Maria said, “Look, they're with me, so back off.”

“That makes it ok, then? Three days ago you were complaining about how people were always coming here to-”

“Aaanyway there's nothing to see here,” she said, loud enough to drown her voice, “Forget the cat, let's go see the playground.”

No one moved. Except for Alfred, who finally got up from the floor a million years too late.

“I'm sorry,” Maddie said. Her round blue eyes still filled with surprise, “We just wanted to know the place.”

“That's what you say. People are always coming here, like we're a zoo and they can just... look around and go back with a nice story to tell and-”

“No, no, we're not like that! At all, I swear!”

She was so earnestly intense that everyone had to stare.


Even Alicia, who seemed a little taken aback.

“Then what are you doing here? You can’t be here to visit Maria.”

“Hey!”

“Nothing! Just- looking at things, but not in a bad way, not to feel anything, I mean, it's not like that, we were just going to walk around a little but then I saw you coming and, and I thought- I mean, I wanted to- but then I thought we could just- if you're not busy, that is, I'm sure you must be, I understand, but maybe you could?”

She looked hopeful. Alicia eyed her suspiciously.

“Could what?”

“Show me the place? I'd love to see it with you. I mean. If you’d show it to me. Or – not. We can just talk, too.”

“Ah. Well. I suppose I can do that... if you really want to…”

Alicia sounded mellow. She had never sounded mellow in her life.

Maria had to bite her lip so she wouldn't snort.

“Maddie, we talked about this before,” Alfred said, still wounded in his patriotic pride, “We have a mission here, remember?”

“I'm sure you can handle it,” she said. She risked a tentative smile.

Alicia smiled back. A little. Maybe.

“Well. If you want to... we can. Talk, I mean. Did she show you our greenhouse?”

“No! I'd love to see it! I love greenhouses!”

“Since when,” Alfred complained, but Maddie wasn't listening anymore.

Maria watched as the two girls went away, Alicia still a little baffled, Maddie blushing to the roots of her hair.

“Well. That was... interesting.”

“Who is that person? And why did she kidnap my sister?”

“Hey, Alicia is cool. And she's really fun, she just happens to get irrationally angry at visitors. But she's great. And she's really smart, too, they'll get along fine. As long as Maddie doesn't mind talking about politics.”

“Politics?” weirdly enough, this seemed to placate him, “I like to discuss it too. Sometimes. When we're not working. Not that we are right now, of course, I’m just mentioning it-”

“Really? Last year we wanted to go to the Socialist Party meetings, but Don Antonio didn't let us because they usually go on all night long, and because he thought we’d end up in jail if we- Alfred?”

His face was white as a ghost - or as if he had seen one - and his eyes were round and full of horror.

“Wait. Wait. So you mean my sister is skipping our mission to bang a communist?”



*




The exams took them almost two hours, and when they went back to the hotel, Luciano was sure he didn't have any more blood in his body.

And he was feeling a lot better.

Not about his lack of blood, about life in general. All that time wasted on needles and creepy charts and, weirdly enough, recipe books, had been more calming than he had expected. Of course it wouldn't be anything, he was being stupid, and he shouldn't worry about it. He needed to go on with his life and ignore all that nonsense and in two days he'd forget it all.

So he went to his room, leaving Manuel to his recipes. After bookmarking the coolest ones, and asking him to start with the parisian chicken if he really wanted to do it, because looking at it had made him hungry.

Manuel had promised to consider it.

All in all, a very good day. He was whistling when he opened the door.

“You're back,” said a slow, sexily lazy voice when he stepped into the room, I was getting tired of waiting, dear.”

Francis Bonnefoy. The hot guy from the first restaurant, Luciano's brain supplied, and then added, probably here for the watch you stole.

Or for another round, it added. But probably the watch.

“Oh, hi, you,” he said, trying to ignore his own brain, “How did you come in? I thought you needed the card.”

Francis raised his hand, the magnetic card dangling between his fingers.

A card. Right, then.

He was sitting on the armchair near the window, but the curtains were closed and that hid half of his body in ominous shadows. That, with the weirdly heavy silence didn't bode too well.

“Erm… Are you mad at me? I didn't take it on purpose, and you forgot it here-”

“Where is it, dear?”

Luciano pouted at him.

“I'm just back from the doctor, and I’m probably dying, okay? And it's not here.”

Francis paused. Not that he had been doing much of anything before, but Luciano could feel the sudden stillness, as if he were a dangerous French snake preparing to attack and really, where was the security of this hotel when he needed it?

But then Francis decided murdering him over a watch wasn't worth it, because he got up slowly, and left the shadowy corner of the room.

“The doctor?” he came to him, and Luciano was tempted to take one step back. But he stood his ground.

“Yes, I thought I was sick. I might still be. You shouldn't get too close or you might catch it too-”

He did get close. So close that their chests were almost touching, and it was hard to stand his ground because being this close to him was making his brain turn to mush. And then Francis suddenly – but it didn't feel sudden, it felt sensuous and breathtaking – held his face with both hands.

“You do feel warm, cher. Maybe you should lie down.”

“... I..”

“But first. Tell me. Where is my watch?”

“I don't know,” he said, licking his lips, his heart beating fast. He was still holding his face, softly raising his chin – had he always been so tall? – and his eyes were so blue, almost purple, how could anyone have eyes like that? “That- the reporter, he got it, I was... I'll get it back, we forgot it.”

Because we were having sex, his brain said, but this time he closed his mouth before he could start babbling. And because Francis was holding his cheeks like that, his not-quite-purple-eyes going murderous again.

“I was going to get it back,” he said, to shut down the unwanted thoughts. “It's- really expensive, right?”

“Yes, it is. It's very, very important that I have that watch back, mon amour, and I'm not really sure you understand that. I'm thinking I might have to persuade you.”

“Uh? No, you don't, I know it is. My father had one just like that, and he really loved it too, they're very rare, yes? Do you- do you want to- sit, and drink something?”

Or let me go? Or go to bed, maybe? But Francis looked startled, and suddenly human again.

“Oh. Did he? Who is your father?”

Luciano stared.

And Francis must have noticed he was being extremely weird, because he let go of his face, his arm enveloping Luciano’s shoulders:

“But what am I doing, you’re sick and maybe dying! Come here, and sit down, before you collapse.”

“... I’m not that bad,” he murmured, but let himself be led anyway. Not that this would make things any less weird, mind you. Francis made him sit on the shadowy armchair, hovering over him like a blond très sexy mother hen.

“Now,” Francis said, when he was comfortable, “That happens to be a very special watch, mon cher, from a very rare collection. One of a kind, I'd say. It makes me wonder what kind of extremely rich, extremely classy person with extremely good taste would have one like that?”

“His taste is not that good,” Luciano said, a little upset. Why was his father ruining this moment? “He just got it somewhere. I think it was a gift, or something. And he never even let me look at it-”

“That's terrible, how you must have suffered. Tell me, who is he?”

“Like, I get it, I was a kid, maybe I'd have broken it, but he could have been nicer about it, but no, he went insane, and it's not like I'd-”

“Such a terrible man! Tell me who it is, so I know to avoid him.”

“But you'll probably never meet, he's not even here. And he's probably in Lisbon right now, or he was yesterday, when I called him, because he complained a lot about the timezones. I'm always forgetting about them, and-”

“Luciano! Tell me his name!”

“Why is that so important?” he sulked, “His name is Henrique, and he works for this law firm that doesn't do much of anything, because I have never seen him working in his life. Except when he was trying to destroy me. But he won't give you his watch, if that's what you want, he never lets anyone touch it, I told you, it's like-”

“Wouldn't that, by any chance, be Henrique Carriedo?”

“What? No,” Luciano said, baffled, “Why?”

“Just wondering. Maybe I was thinking of someone else.”

He got up, clearly distracted. Then he looked down at Luciano, and seemed to come back to this world.

“I'll give you another chance, then, my dear, to get my precious watch. I'll come back tomorrow-”

“But I don't know when I'll see Martín again to-”

“- and I'll appreciate if you have it here with you. Or I'll be forced to use my persuasion and we wouldn't like that, would we?”

“Maybe?”

Like, persuade how? But Francis laughed, a sexily psycho laughter – or a psycho sexy laughter – and slithered out of the room.

Luciano stared.

Then he sank in the chair.

Francis hadn't kissed him, he thought, after a long second of not thinking about anything. Maybe he was doing something wrong.





tcb...



AN: Will Maria be able to explain Alfred the difference between Communism and Socialism? Is Maddie really banging Alícia? Will Luci's brain ever start working again? How will he get the watch if Martín doesn't have it anymore but doesn't know it yet? And what's up with that anyway? All this and more in the next chapter of TFHL!

Profile

berseker: (Default)
berseker

May 2015

S M T W T F S
     12
3456789
10 111213141516
17181920212223
24252627282930
31      

Most Popular Tags

Style Credit

Expand Cut Tags

No cut tags
Page generated Jul. 26th, 2017 10:42 pm
Powered by Dreamwidth Studios