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Calling out, calling out, haven’t you wondered
Why I’m always alone when you’re in my dreams
Calling out, calling out, haven’t you wondered
Why you find it hard just looking at me?
I want you, but I want you to understand
I leave you, I love you

Winter break was supposed to be a relief from University of Magic at the World Academy, yet (Reader) wanted nothing more than to go back. Spells would have been a welcome distraction from endless agony after Arthur broke her heart. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t find a reason why he unexpectedly abandoned her. Arthur the only boy she truly loved from their first class together four years ago, and her best friend for three. He may have been cold to her at first, but such changed when she stole his scones from the dormitory fridge. Never had (Reader) been more surprised when Arthur was delighted to see someone actually liked his cooking, rather than angry someone stole his snacks. Since then, they talked to each other nearly every day and trusted each other with their deepest secrets…at least until now.

Why would he turn silent on her without any warning? How could they go from studying potions for final exams to acting as though they never met? (Reader) tried to think of anything and everything to explain what happened, but her only two explanations seemed too trivial for sudden isolation. Perhaps he was angry that she surprised him during the potions final and he cut himself on a broken bottle. The last time they spoke was in the infirmary, where (Reader) held his hands and he delicately blushed until the doctor took him back for stitches. It made no sense though that Arthur would go from interlacing his fingers with hers to abrupt silence. In previous times where he was angry, he was straightforward about why he was hurt. (Reader) wondered if she accidentally made a joke similar to the last one that hurt his feelings.

“Arthur, you’re such a robot. It’s like you’re preprogrammed to only be a gentleman with a logic interface. Don’t you know how to let your feelings out, or is stoic robot your modus operandi?”

“Just because I’m a gentlemen and don’t show my affections to everyone like you do doesn’t mean I’m a heartless machine. How cold do you think I am, and why are you my friend if you think I’m so cold?”

(Reader) apologized immediately, sickened by how much she hurt him with something that seemed so innocuous. Yet, with that incident, he accepted her apology immediately and they acted like nothing ever happened. Now, without any explanation, her texts, Facebook messages, and phone calls were met with dead silence, which chased her ceaselessly in her dreams. The darkest parts of the night were always filled with visions of Arthur running away, refusing to look at (Reader) as she cried for him to come back.

“What did I do wrong? Please tell me! I’m sorry, and I’ll do anything to make it up to you!”

The dream always ended with tears soaking her pillowcase and choking her with sadness. Upon waking, (Reader) would desperately search for any spell that would bring him back or force him to say why he left. It was not long, however, before she gave up after realizing she could not cast any of the spells. (Reader) was a highly talented witch and second in her class only to Arthur, but casting a spell was not possible if her heart stopped her before she said the first incantation. Arthur’s abrupt departure made (Reader) almost too sick to eat, but she loved Arthur too much to force him into a return or interrogation with magic. Hurting Arthur further would destroy whatever appetite she had left for it would be akin to breaking her own heart.

There was only one thing for (Reader) left to do without resorting to forced magic. Picking up jeans, a t-shirt, several accessories and boots, (Reader) got dressed for the first time in a week. Apparition would have left her a sniveling mess at Arthur’s doorstep, so she opted to forego magic in favor of a long drive. Maybe she could not force him into an interrogation, but ignoring her would be much harder if she stared him in the face. Arthur lived close enough that (Reader) could drive over to ask, yet far enough that his gentlemanly manners would keep him from turning her away. To prepare herself, (Reader) popped her Natalie Imbruglia CD in the car and sang with the chorus of her favorite track…

Didn’t want to leave you with the wrong impression
Didn’t want to leave you with my last confession of love
Wasn’t trying to pull you in the wrong direction
All I want to do is try to make a connection of love

“Bollocks,” Arthur lamented, “There’s nothing in here to transform machines into flesh and blood men. Not even my black magic books help, and I can’t try Academy’s library until winter break is over. How am I supposed to become human before I see (Reader) again?”

Hetacorp’s design was nearly perfect. Arthur’s skin was as delicate as any humans, and would bleed just as much if cut for any reason. The blood-like oil in his silicone veins easily passed for human, as he remembered from slicing his arm on a broken potion bottle. (Reader) had been so quick to bandage his wounds and held his hand throughout their walk to the infirmary, believing his injury to be perfectly real. Both of them were frightened after Arthur hurt himself, but what he feared was his mechanical heart beating loud enough for (Reader) to hear. Artificial or not, his intelligence evolved enough for him to fall in love, and she was the only person he could ever fathom loving.

Would (Reader) return his feelings if she knew his secret? Certainly not after that so-called joke she made about his emotions.

“Arthur, you’re such a robot. It’s like you’re preprogrammed to only be a gentleman with a logic interface. Don’t you know how to let your feelings out, or is stoic robot your modus operandi?”

“Just because I’m a gentlemen and don’t show my affections to everyone like you do doesn’t mean I’m a heartless machine. How cold do you think I am, and why are you my friend if you think I’m so cold?”

(Reader)’s she attempted to hug Arthur after she apologized, and he fought his titanium joints to return her touch. Hetaloid brain software was designed to replicate Hetalia characters, and Arthur Kirkland’s tsundere demeanor lent itself poorly to physical interaction. As his desire to kiss (Reader) grew, Hetaloid Arthur was at constant war with character programming, alongside fear of (Reader) discovering his secret by accident. Rarely did any humans and hetaloids attempt to have relations, and if (Reader) returned Arthur’s feelings, she would respond with further kisses in tandem with licks and bites. What if she broke a wire when biting his skin and made him short circuit? What if his circuity became faulty, and licking him electrocuted her mouth?

Becoming a human would keep them from being seriously injured by physical contact and allow him to stop fighting his programming for a better balance between ‘dere dere’ and ‘tsun tsun.’ Between his frustration with a robotic body and necessary avoidance of (Reader) until the spell was compete, finding a spell to become human was the most important thing in his life. In the pit of his silicone stomach, Arthur knew he was hurting (Reader) by going quiet, but such was necessary for his greater purpose. If (Reader) found out he was a hetaloid and rejected him before he could become human, Arthur would never recover from the heartbreak. Maybe trying to become human to win (Reader)’s love was a crazy idea, but it was one he had to try at least once before giving up.

Falling out, falling out, have you ever wondered
If this was ever more than a crazy idea?
Falling out, falling out, have you ever wondered
What we could have been if you only let me in?
I want you, but I want you to understand
I miss you, I love you

Determination outweighed pain as (Reader) slammed her hand against Arthur’s door. Her knocking was hard enough that the smallest increase of intensity would break her hand. If Arthur were practicing magic in the basement though, he would not be able to hear (Reader)’s knocking unless it was loud enough to rattle the house. (Reader) bit her cheek, and fought the urge to scream, knowing it would only make Arthur less responsive. The gentleman in him would scold, “ladies shouldn’t scream,” despite (Reader)’s objection to being called a “lady” and fierce pride about hot Mediterranean blood in her veins. That same hot-bloodedness came through with each knock, desperate to break through the barricade Arthur imposed upon himself without any decent reason.

After banging for what seemed for what seemed like an eternity, the door finally opened to (Reader).

“Oh, hello Flying Mint Bunny.”

“Hi, (Reader). I’m always happy to see you, but you shouldn’t be here right now.”

(Reader) rage transformed into fear as she observed Flying Mint Bunny’s sorrowful disposition. There had never been a time where (Reader) saw her without a smile. Flying Mint Bunny was one of the most cheerful creatures (Reader) had ever met. A frown from her meant something was seriously wrong, and potentially grim.

“D-did you do something bad to Mr. Britain? I don’t want to think you would…but he said something about a girl when he came back from school depressed, and you’re the only girl he really talks to.”

“If I did do something wrong, he didn’t tell me,” (Reader) spat, “He shut me out without telling me and won’t talk to me when I try to ask. It’s not fair to keep me in the dark if I did something bad! I’ll apologize all he wants and do anything for him once I know what I did wrong, but I can’t do anything if he won’t talk to me!”

Flying Mint Bunny turned as (Reader) found herself silenced by the sound of impending footsteps.

“Flying Mint Bunny?” he called, “What’s that noise upstairs?”

“It’s nothing!”

“EXCUSE ME, I’M NOT NOTHING!” (Reader) screamed.

As if Arthur’s abandonment didn’t sting enough, Flying Mint Bunny had to call her nothing? (Reader) did not care about the impending lectures and scolding that would follow. Anyone who called her “nothing” in front of Arthur would be lucky if screaming was the worst they received.

“There’s something up there,” Arthur responded, “What are you trying to hide from me?”

“Why don’t I show you?”

Flying Mint Bunny tried to block (Reader)’s path, only to be shoved when (Reader) stampeded through the house. Her boots clacked across the floor as her bracelets jangled, giving Arthur enough time to hide his books before emerging from the basement. Upon seeing (Reader) in the hallway, Arthur gripped the doorframe to keep himself from tumbling backwards down the stairs.

“(Reader)?” he called, his eyes widening in terror, “What are you doing here?”

“Trying to find out what the hell I did wrong!”

“What are you talking about?”

“What did I do to make you ignore me for the past few weeks? Huh? You’re supposed to be my best friend, yet you’re treating me like I don’t matter! You haven’t returned any of my calls. You won’t answer my messages. Hell, even Flying Mint Bunny called me nothing!”

“That’s not what she meant—”

“No matter how much I screwed up, I don’t deserve to be ghosted like this and I don’t care if I look like Glenn Close coming here for an explanation, but I can’t take this!”

Only then did Arthur notice the painful thinness in her limbs, accompanied by a frighteningly wan face.

“Love, what happened to you?” he cried, fighting the overwhelming ‘tsun tsun’ in his programming.

For every inch in his body that revolted against touch, there was one that longed to hold (Reader), fearful the slightest breeze would shatter her bones. Arthur suspected she was struggling to eat again, seeing as (Reader) struggled with food in the three years he knew her. Not once had he seen her look this sick—the closest time was when he caught her stealing his scones.

“You have a lot of nerve asking that after abandoning me.”

“I’m serious, you look like a skeleton. What made you so sick?”

“I’m, I’m not going to tell you…until you tell me why you left…”

The room started to spin as (Reader) began slurring her words. Lightheadedly, (Reader) staggered forward to smack Arthur, but found herself tripping over her own feet. Arthur caught (Reader) before she hit the ground and carried her down the stairs into the basement.

“Flying Mint Bunny, go prepare us some tea. We’re going to be in the basement for a while.”

Days of eating little more than oranges and coffee caught up to (Reader) as she lilted in Arthur’s arms. With most of her time spent in bed until today, (Reader) gave little thought to how much she needed to eat each day. Long stretches with little or no food were a somewhat common phenomenon, but abandonment caused her worst one in several years. Delirium was expected if she ate next to nothing for a week or longer, but no case of delirium could explain the strangeness (Reader) noticed about Arthur’s injury

Having been cut on the arm, he should not have been able to lift her without agonizing pain from the skin pulling beneath the stitches. Then again, Arthur did not seem to have stitches either. The place where the wound should have been tore itself open, yet left no blood or obvious sign of muscles. Instead, it looked like strange fibrous material that no delirium could ever create.

Perhaps Flying Mint Bunny referred to something more sinister when she said, “You shouldn’t be here right now.”

Didn’t want to leave you with the wrong impression
Didn’t want to leave you with my last confession of love
Wasn’t trying to pull you in the wrong direction
All I want to do is try to make a connection of love

“Love, eat these,” Arthur said, offering (Reader) a plate of scones. Tucked into the couch with a union jack blanket, she shook her head and hid under the blanket’s sherpa lining.

“Do you really need to be this immature, (Reader)? Refusing food and hiding is not going to get you better.”

“Why do you care?” (Reader) sniveled, “It’s probably just so you can get rid of me the moment I feel better, right? Cause I did something really bad, right?”

“Who the devil told you that?”

“Did I hold your hand too long in the infirmary and you think I’m gross? Did I wreck your arm forever and that’s why your arm is open again?”

“What do you mean my arm is open?”

The last thing Arthur wanted to believe was that his body inadvertently outed him while he was carrying (Reader) into the basement. He did feel an incredibly sharp pain when she fell into his arms, but he was more worried about her safety than an injury that was trivial by comparison. Glancing at his injured arm, Arthur realized the superglue used by the infirmary failed to hold under (Reader)’s fall.

Beneath the tear, he could see the cauterized veins, which should have been repaired with silicone patched by Hetacorp. Arthur ignored the necessary repairs, however, in hopes his skin would heal like a human’s once he found the perfect spell. Thanks to (Reader), he would have to delay his search for a potion until Hetacorp patched the veins, or limited circulation would steal functionality in Arthur’s hand.

“Oh,” he sighed, “Oh…well…there’s something I’ve needed to tell you about myself for a while and I haven’t found the words to do it. I was hoping I could fix the problem before you ever knew anything, and nobody would have to know the truth.”

“Is this why you’ve been ignoring me?”

Solemnly, Arthur nodded. Turning his head away, he blinked to stop tears from budding behind his glass eyes. Arthur found it ironic that, in spite of being a machine, he could cry just as easily as any human. Perhaps more so, if his gentlemanly program did not prohibit excessive displays of emotion.

“Why didn’t you tell me about this problem? Why did you shut me out? Don’t you trust me to be there for you?” (Reader) choked, staggering off the couch. Hearing her boots and bracelets, Arthur grabbed (Reader) by the shoulders and forced her to sit back down.

“You need to be still,” Arthur scolded, “Remember what the infirmary said about heart problems when you haven’t eaten?”

“Don’t tell me what to do!” (Reader) yelled as she stomped onto her feet, “AND DON’T YOU DARE TELL ME LADIES DON’T SCREAM! You have no right to tell me what to do after ignoring me for so long! Do you know how it feels when someone you love suddenly stops talking to you for no reason? Eating’s not worth a damn thing because you feel like you’ve been ripped to shreds and half of you is missing! That’s how I’ve felt every single day since you just shut me out, so don’t you even think for a single second that you can tell me what to do! If I want to stand up, I’ll bloody well stand up! If I want to scream at you, I’ll scream until I can’t breathe! ”

(Reader)’s scarlet cheeks were covered with snot and tears falling from bloodshot eyes. Every few breaths were punctured with coughs from post-nasal drip. Gripping her hair, (Reader) lilted again as her pulse skyrocketed and the lightheadedness grew worse.

“All right,” Arthur grumbled, “I’ll tell you everything if you promise to do two things for me.”

“What then?”

“Promise me you’ll sit down, and have some tea and scones.”

I need you, I love you
Didn’t want to leave you with the wrong impression
Didn’t want to leave you with my last confession of love
Wasn’t trying to pull you in the wrong direction
All I want to do is try to make a connection of love

Whoever said that Arthur was a bad cook clearly never tasted the warmth of his blueberry scones. With just a light coat of sugar on them, they tasted like muffins mixed with a load of homemade bread. Anytime (Reader) ate one, it felt as though she was relaxing in front of a toasty fire with a piece of nineteenth century literature, or better yet, listening to Arthur read Harry Potter. Satiating her week long hunger sent waves of relief across every inch of her body, as though the worst of a drawn out war was over.

“How do you feel now, love?”

“You were right,” (Reader) said, “I really did need to eat something. I just couldn’t after…”

“I know, and I’m so sorry for leaving you like that. It was the worst way I could have handled what I was facing, and you’re right. I do trust you, and I shouldn’t have shut you out. I just…was afraid…”

“Afraid of what?”

“I was afraid you couldn’t…you couldn’t…”

The gentlemanly programming lost its first battle as Arthur took his turn in shedding tears.

“Is it, is okay if I touch you?” (Reader) asked.

‘Dere dere’ was always stronger around (Reader), but this time, it grew strong enough that now Arthur could indulge in some physical affection. Instead of giving (Reader) a yes or no, he wrapped his arms around her waist and sobbed into her chest.

“Whatever it was you thought I couldn’t do, I know I can do it,” (Reader) said, “I’d do anything for you, Arthur. There’s almost nothing you could say or do that could ever change that. You’re my best friend in the entire world.”

“W-would I still be your b-best friend if I were not human?”

“Why would you ask me something like that?”

“Please just tell me!” Arthur begged, digging his fingers into her ribs.

“I see no reason why you wouldn’t…but why does that matter? Why are you asking me this?”

Arthur raised himself up and gestured for her to look at his arm. (Reader) winced as he pinched his cut, but found herself dumbstruck by what she saw beneath his skin. In spite of constant pinching and flapping of the two sides, Arthur did not bleed. There were pink, blue, and red vein-like objects, but not even a little clear fluid leaked from them.

“What…but…” (Reader) stammered, “How is this possible? Why aren’t you bleeding the way you did before.”

“The infirmary nurse cauterized the tears and glued my arm together. It was supposed to hold long enough for me to get silicone patches.”

Silicone patches? Cauterizing once and no more fluid leaks? Gluing his arm together? I mean, I know people get cauterized and glued when injured, but not usually for something like this. Wait a minute…the robot joke!

“Arthur, you’re such a robot. It’s like you’re preprogrammed to only be a gentleman with a logic interface. Don’t you know how to let your feelings out, or is stoic robot your modus operandi?”

“Just because I’m a gentlemen and don’t show my affections to everyone like you do doesn’t mean I’m a heartless machine. How cold do you think I am, and why are you my friend if you think I’m so cold?”

Did he get upset for the reason I think?

“You’re a robot, aren’t you?”

“Hetaloid is the correct term,” Arthur snapped, “but yes, by definition, I am a robot.”

“Okay…” (Reader) said, “Why Hetaloid specifically? What’s special about that term?”

“Hetaloids are robots based off of characters in a famous anime called Hetalia. Right now, we’re in beta testing stages to see if we’re ready for use across the world. I’m modeled off of England, who is supposed to be able to perform magic. They sent me to the University of Magic to see if robots could cast as well as England himself. Thus far, I’ve exceeded Hetacorp’s expectations in magical performance, and they’re looking to replicate my programming for other England hetaloids. What they don’t know…is that I’ve developed an unusual complication…”

“Are you sick?” (Reader) asked, grabbing his hand. Having missed her gentle yet powerful squeezes, Arthur felt his heart uptick again.   

“By human standards, no…but by robot standards, I am very ill because I fell in love with a human.”

It was then that Arthur lifted (Reader)’s hand to his lips.

“Since when?”

“I can’t explain how it happened. All I know is that we were sharing scones while preparing for a dracology test, and you insisted we take a longer study break. I thought I only gave in to make you be quiet, but once you put on that bloody Natalie Imbruglia CD and played a song about something being a mess and absolutely perfect, I realized it was because I loved you. It was only after I was cut that I thought you loved me too.”

“No,” (Reader) declared, “It wasn’t after that first cut. It was from the day we met in intro to spellcasting. Maybe it took you a while to fall for me, but I’ve adored you this entire time we’ve been friends. Any boyfriends I’ve had since we met were just cheap replacements. If you asked me to be with you at any given time, I would have said ‘yes’ in a heartbeat.”

“Love, you have no idea how happy it makes me to hear that…but I know you thought I was human all this time. If you knew I was a robot…remember what you said? “Is stoic robot your modus operandi?””

“It was a stupid joke,” (Reader) whimpered, “It was a stupid joke I made because it never even occurred to me that you were a Heta…what’s it called again?”


“A hetaloid. If I had known you were one all along, I never would have teased you about being a robot.”

With a nod, Arthur continued, “I shut you out because I wanted to become a human before we saw each other again. I’ve been looking for spells everywhere, but there are none about turning robots into humans, and I wanted to hide until I became human enough for you to love. Ever since that day in the infirmary, I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you. Not that I don’t all the time, but it’s been worse than ever. I’ve tried to restrain myself for so long, but after holding your hands, I couldn’t do it anymore. If you felt for me the way I do for you, kissing would be inevitable…and…and…”

(Reader) drew close enough for their hips to touch, unable to resist putting her arms around Arthur’s body. Delicately, (Reader) placed her nose against his before their lips interlocked in a tender embrace. Smiling into the kiss was inevitable for both Arthur and (Reader) from the joy of kissing their beloved best friend. Arthur was relieved that (Reader) accepted him as a hetaloid, while (Reader) was enthralled from knowing Arthur loved her for so long.

Upon breaking for air, (Reader) took her chance to say, “Arthur, regardless of how you’re made, it doesn’t change the things I love about you. .”

“Thank you,” Arthur whispered, “I’m so glad you still love me.”

“I’m glad you still love me too. With how you shut me out, I was afraid I lost you forever.”

“I couldn’t leave you even if I tried. I’d do anything—even alter my very structure and being—for you.”

“Well, if you’d do anything, can you make me a promise?”

“Anything, love.”

“Promise you won’t eve abandon me like that again. Promise if you’re scared, you’ll talk to me instead of shutting me out. Promise to trust me and remember I’ll always love you as long as you remain the Arthur Kirkland I’ve held in my heart.”

“Always, (Reader). Always.”
For :iconflameriveralchemist:'s contest. Fantasy prompt.

Song: Wrong Impression by Natalie Imbruglia.

I do not own Hetalia.
NewMoonAvatar Featured By Owner Feb 16, 2018
So cute!
VideoDreams Featured By Owner Feb 16, 2018
Thank you. <3
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Submitted on
January 31
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