DISCLAIMER! I don't own you, Hetalia, or Britain.
If you see star symbol(s), scroll back up here, please!
Thank you, and enjoy!
*= This story is technically for right-handed people
**= According to my research, Arthur is a lefty, but this is my story, so in my story he is ambidextrous. XD
"Peter Kirkland, I'll ask this one more time. Where is the key?"
"Arthur, I swear! I left it… on the counter… over there…"
Peter's voice became quiet towards the end, and I can see the blonde shrink as he pointed at the counter, trembling. Next to me, I saw Arthur's face fuming with rage, and soon enough I was being dragged into a chase—literally. You see… I was handcuffed to my best guy friend (also my crush), Arthur Kirkland, and I stayed over at his house for several reasons, and Peter just decided to—let's rewind back, because it's not easy to explain.
Arthur, the handsome British gentleman, and I had been friends with since childhood, had some trouble packing up belongings to move to a different apartment. So Arthur had called me and asked if I could help out, I had obviously replied 'yes', appearing in front of his door within minutes.
The packing took some time, though. Through the process, we had found ourselves laughing at some pictures in his albums. We went back to work, but I became tired, and ended up falling asleep… on Arthur's bed. Peter was fast-asleep on the couch, and Arthur, having nowhere else to sleep, slept in his bed. Alongside me.
Arthur and I woke up to Peter's voice screaming on the top of his lungs;
"You two are caught by the police!"
…And so I found myself hand-cuffed to Arthur. One moment, I was on cloud nine, the next, I was blushing mad, wondering how I could survive this day, hand-cuffed with Arthur. I couldn't decide whether it was good or bad. Back to where I had left off…
"Arthur… Stop, hey, stop!"
I yelled, and Arthur had stopped chasing Peter, seeing that I was completely worn out by the dragging. I grit my teeth as I felt my wrist burn like a blazing fire.
"Oh, I'm so sorry, (name)! I didn't realize—"
"Did you already forget that we're hand-cuffed?!"
Arthur let out a nervous chuckle and scratched his chin. Sighing I shake my head, helping myself back on my feet. I ease the pain on my wrists and examine it.
"Can't we unlock it with those bobby pins or something? Like, picking a lock?"
"You see… You know how I used to work as a police? These are ones that are nearly impossible to pick, unless you're Houdini or something."
"Are you serious?! How'd Peter get his hands on these things?!"
"Uhm… we're packing up some stuff so I can move, remember? He most likely had found they thrown somewhere off to the side."
At that moment, my stomach growled. Jeez, not now, stomach! I thought, as I felt myself blush. Though I am immune to Arthur's scones, I was glad he had cleaned out the fridge, or else we'd have to eat them.
"First, we have to prepare Peter for school, we'll eat something later."
"Are you sure? You seem pretty hungry."
I shrugged helping Peter prepare for school and, of course, Arthur. Since my right hand* was cuffed to Arthur's left, I had problems. I was a righty, and he was an ambidextrous**, so it was fine for him. This was going to be tough. After sending Peter off, we made some soup from canned-goods. And boy, was it awful. I couldn't do anything!
I started, gazing into the chicken-noodle soup we made. I feel my face burning, and I can see Arthur's burning as well. He knew what I was thinking.
"I can… feed you… I think?"
"No, wait. Just wait. I can eat with my left hand."
I tried holding the spoon, only to find myself making it clatter onto the table numerous times. After the 6th time or so, I sighed, resting my head on the table. My stomach growled again, and I couldn't believe. There was no other choice. Sitting back up, I scratched my head.
"That's is the only option we have, I guess."
We sat there in silence for several long seconds. Arthur scooped up a spoonful of the soup and I pursed my lips, feeling my heart beat faster, pounding harder. I even stopped breathing for several seconds. Oh god, oh god, oh god… What am I supposed to do, what am I supposed to do… Those small phrases kept repeating in my head. I finally let out some of the air in my lungs and separated my lips, opening my mouth…
Taking the soup and swallowing, I kept feeling my heart pound. Although I had avoided I contact with Arthur, I can see him squirm in his seat. I thought I was going to die. After eating, we quietly agreed to give each other some time to calm down. I flipped through the channels on the small TV that wasn't packed up yet, and Arthur was reading.
Have I ever mentioned how gorgeous Arthur looks like with his glasses on? I felt my heart melt as I kept glancing at Arthur's profile as he calmly read the book. With all honesty, I felt like he was just flipping through the pages. Who knows? Maybe it's just me.