Hetalia kink meme part 23
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hetalia kink meme
part 23
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“Bye Babe! So sorry! Gotta run. Love ya tons!” he said and kissed his head again before jetting out the front door, leaving England alone with his pain.
Thank God.
Slowly, he moved to take the covers off, groaning in the process. Biting his lip and with great difficulty and concentration, the Brit managed to sit upright and headed slowly toward the mirror. When he stood before it, he felt tears well up in his eyes at the sight.
There were large greenish-purple bruises on his forearms and upper arms. He also noticed multiple bruises over other parts of his body: his left rib, his neck, his mid-back, his thighs, his calves. And he didn’t even want to think about his aching bum.
With shaky hands he reached inside his drawer and found the make-up kit he had reluctantly bought a while back since this first started, intent on hiding the evidence of his torture. Heading into the bathroom, England sighed as he got a bath running with warm water and lowered himself slowly into the tub. Soaking in it for what seemed hours on end he instantly felt half of his pain melt away. When he got out he sat in front of the mirror and took out the make-up sponge only to notice with a heart-shattering feeling that there was hardly any left. He had used it so much to hide so many marks on his body, he had forgotten about replenishing it.
“Bollocks!” he hissed, panicking a little. In broad, summer daylight (curse this damn American weather) there was no way he could walk around without his bruises being noticed. And it was way too hot for a long-sleeve turtle-neck.
…It’s either that or risk anyone seeing this, you pansy. Just wear the damned turtle neck and buy more before America gets home!
With a heavy heart and even heavier muscles, England dressed up for a winter stroll out in 32˚ C weather. Wearing some shades to further disguise himself- damned bags under his eyes-he headed out to the nearest department store that had a cosmetics section, ignoring all odd looks that were directed toward him on his way there.
The Brit was highly unnerved (and sweaty) with the thought of having to return to that godforsaken store. The associates were much too bubbly for his tastes and so damned helpful it made him sick to his stomach how much he wished they would LEAVE HIM THE HELL ALONE. But still, he didn't know of any other place and at least here he knew his skin tone.
“Hi there! Welcome to Sephora! Are you shopping for anything in particular today?” said the ultra-perky annoying brunette that approached him.
“U-uhh.. N-no.. J-just looking for a p-present, is all…” he chuckled nervously.
The girl nodded and continued to smile widely. Are all Americans so damn bubbly and smiley? Fuck off you twit.
“Okay well may I recommend our newest perfume from the Lady Gaga Fame collection? It’s-”
“NO, I’m fine, thank you,” England said, scowling at her from behind his shades. His cheeks turned red with embarrassment.
“Okay, well how about some liquid liner-”
“REALLY. If I need help I’ll let you know, alright?” he said more softly, trying to maintain his gentlemanly composure.
“Uhh.. okay. Well if you need anything my name is Charlene.”
“Thank you Charlene,” England said and the girl walked back to the register before greeting another guest.
“Oh hi Mr. L!” she said with a giggle and England froze as a male voice spoke behind him. A male voice. With a Polish accent.
“Oh Cześć, Char! How are you, girlfriend?!” said Poland as he went forward to do two air kisses, one on either side of Charlene’s cheeks. “And remember the L isn’t pronounced in my name, silly.”
Holy shite. I need to leave. NOW.
As England made his way out, Charlene took Poland over to the very section he had been at and the Pole noticed the Brit immediately.
“Arthur?” he said his human name, sounding confused and uncertain.
Bloody. Fucking. Hell.
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Can't wait to see where this goes!
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