"Good morning, love."
"Good morning, Kirkland."
This was how your morning always went now – Arthur Kirkland, the popular British student of Gakuen Hetalia, would greet you every single morning with a, 'Good morning, love.' In return, you'd reply politely with, 'Good morning, Kirkland.' In fact, it was sort of like a tradition now or something.
You had always puzzled over as to why he did this – he was pretty popular, after all. Girls found him really attractive, and they often fangirled over his accent. You? You weren't as high up on the social rankings. You were just an average student, really, and a shy one at that.
So why, of all people, did Arthur choose to greet you every single morning?
The imaginative part of your brain had said that it was because he liked you, but the more rational part of your brain had quickly dismissed that thought. Him? Like you? You didn't think so – if anything, Arthur was just being nice. That was all.
There was a small part of you that wanted to believe that he liked you, though.
"What am I supposed to do?"
The words came from none other than the popular Brit himself, his eyebrows furrowed as Arthur crossed his arms. "How am I supposed to get _____ to recognize me as something more than just another student?"
"Oh, I dunno, try actually talking to her instead of asking me about it?" Alfred said with an arched eyebrow as he leaned against the doorway.
"Well, aren't you just bloody helpful," Arthur said sarcastically.
The two of them were both in an empty classroom, since school had already been let out – and Arthur, having no one else to turn to, had ended up seeking Alfred for advice on _____.
_____ just so happened to be the girl that Arthur had a crush on, and at first he had thought that the crush would just last for a few days and then go away. Well, he was totally wrong! That crush had only grew with each and every passing day, despite the fact that they barely knew each other.
The only reason Arthur had developed a crush on her in the first place was because he had stumbled upon her liking for classical music and dancing – which Arthur also liked. He had once walked in on her dancing one day in an empty music room after school, to a song that was fit for a waltz. Her eyes were closed, denying Arthur the view of her beautiful eyes as she danced gracefully along the floor, pretending to have a partner.
After that, he began noticing her more. She was a shy girl, often quiet and never speaking up a lot – though she was kind and caring, something Arthur liked about her. She had a fair amount of friends, seemed to do good in her schoolwork, all that stuff – and slowly, Arthur started to become drawn to her, so to speak.
He would notice the small things in her, from the way she'd mumble to herself sometimes and to the way she'd blush when she was embarrassed. He found it to be extremely adorable, really.
In an attempt to get closer to _____, Arthur had started greeting her every morning. It wasn't much... but it was a start. Much to his delight, she had replied, albeit softly and hesitantly. This continued on, and now it was like an everyday thing – although Arthur wished to become closer to her, and simple 'good mornings' weren't going to satisfy him any longer.
"But seriously, dude!" Alfred said, his eyebrows furrowing. "You've gotta talk to her at some point, man, otherwise she won't look at you any different from how she does now."
Alfred proved a good point, and with a defeated sigh, Arthur buried his face into his hands. "...I can't."
"Why not? Just talk to her!"
"It's easier said than done," Arthur retorted, removing his hands from his face in order to send a glare directed towards Alfred. "What if I scare her away? We barely even know each other!"
"Then get to know her!" With a determined flare in Alfred's eyes, he marched over and took a hold of Arthur's arm. "She's usually in the music room after school, isn't she?"
"You bloody wanker, let me go!"
"I'll take that as a yes!"
Dragging a fuming Brit who had a colorful vocabulary down the hallways, Alfred stopped in front of the music room and peeked through the small window they had on the door – and sure enough, _____ was there, dancing to some song by herself.
"Well, I'll leave you here to figure out what to do next!" Alfred called back as he started to walked away, leaving Arthur to himself. "Remember, if you're not gonna confess to _____ today, or at least talk to her, I'm going to tell her myself!"
"Bloody git," Arthur mumbled lowly to himself as he ran a hand through his hair. It was either talk to _____ or let Alfred tell her instead of him... and both ways were pretty difficult. How was he going to approach her while she was dancing, anyways–
With a smirk slowly starting to worm its way onto his lips, Arthur felt a few butterflies in his stomach.
He knew what he was going to do... but even more so he wished to know how it would end.
The soft music hung in the air like a gentle lullaby, coaxing you into an almost dream-like state. You had always loved classical music for this reason – whenever it played, you could always feel relaxed.
It was after school, and at the moment you were doing what you always did after school – go to the empty music room and dance to classical music. You were a pretty good dancer, if you said so yourself – but the only problem? You were good at dancing things such as waltzes, or at least dances that required two people.
Well... you kinda had no one else to dance with – you didn't dare to tell anyone that you liked to dance – so you were pretty much stuck with dancing alone, but that was okay. It was nothing you couldn't handle – all you had to do was just pretend you had a partner, anyways.
As the music stopped, only for another piece to start up, you had failed to realize the door quietly open due to being too preoccupied with yourself, the music and the dance.
You were just about to pretend that your 'partner' had lead you into a dip when suddenly two warm hands positioned themselves around you, and instinctively you wrapped your arms around the person's back.
Obviously startled, your eyes shot open to meet emerald green, and for a moment the two of you just stayed in that position, eyes locked – but as quickly as it had happened, he brought the two of you back up and spun you around.
Despite how he had suddenly appeared, and also the question as to why he had suddenly appeared, you let out a light chuckle and continued to dance, only this time with him.
You had to admit – having a real dance partner for once was way better than pretending to have one, and for now, instead of letting yourself get all flustered, you were going to cherish the moment.
No words were spoken throughout the entirety of the dance, only the gentle sound of your feet moving along the floor as Arthur lead you through ever dip, spin and turn.
He was a good dancer himself, as proved by the fact that he was able to dance along with you – he matched you in terms of gracefulness, elegance and poise.
Sadly, though, all good things come to an end.
As the soft music slowly started to fade away, signifying that it was ending, you were dragged out of your feelings of bliss, the dance ending with Arthur pulling you into his chest. He must've predicted that as soon as the song ended you would've started to blush like crazy and try to run away, because his arms held you tightly to his chest, preventing any forms of escape.
Planting a soft kiss atop your head, Arthur laid his chin on top of it, holding you in a warm embrace. "You're a lovely dancer, poppet."
Cue your face bursting into several shades of red, and let's not forget about your heavy stutter! "U-Um, thanks K-Kirk–"
"Arthur. Call me Arthur."
"O-Of course, Kir– I mean, Arthur," You said hastily, not used to using his first name. "Um... my apologies i-if I'm being rude, but... why're you here?"
This provoked a small fidget from Arthur as a light blush dusted his cheeks, his eyebrows furrowing. "I had to, er, tell you something, love... and I thought this would've been the best way, perhaps."
Being the oblivious person you were, you had no idea as to what he was going to tell you. "What? Did you want to tell me that you liked to dance too?" I mean, he did randomly appear just to dance with you... so maybe he liked to dance too, like you!
"You're so adorable... but no, that's not it," Arthur said with a light chuckle. "Try again, poppet."
"You like classical music?"
"True, but that's not what I want to tell you."
"You needed a dance partner?"
"B-But I've run out of guesses!" You protested, a pout forming on your lips. "C'mon, tell me."
"IlikeyoualotandIwaswonderingifyouwantedtobemygirlfriend." The words came out in a jumbled mess, causing you to arch an eyebrow in confusion.
Now holding you at arms-length, the both of you stared at each other, confusion on your face and a heavy blush plastered across Arthur's. He gulped, willing his eyes to look at you instead of away from you.
"I... I really like you, p-poppet," Arthur stammered nervously, "And I was, ah, w-wondering... if you'd like to be my girlfriend...?"
You hesitated for a moment, your mouth forming a small 'o' shape.
This couldn't be happening... right?
"I feel like you might be mistaken." The words tumbled from your lips before you could stop them. "I mean, you're Arthur Kirkland, the popular British student who has the female student body fawning over his accent and good looks and gentlemanly acts. I'm just..." you gulped. "I'm just me. What's so special about that?"
"...I feel as though you may be the one who is mistaken, _____." Emerald green eyes looked down at you tenderly, a soft smile curved at his lips. "You're just you... and that's what I love about you, poppet. You're nice... you're kind... you're caring and sweet. And you share my liking for classical music and dancing... what else could I possibly ask for?" Arthur said with a chuckle, which in turn provoked a smile from you.
"You really think so, Arthur?"
"I know so."
Your heart was practically overflowing with happiness at this point.
"Th-Then... I'd be glad to be your girlfriend, Arthur."
Finally, as though to seal the deal, Arthur had quickly leaned down to press his lips against yours in a gentle kiss.
From that day on, you never danced alone anymore.