Author's Note: This is my first time uploading any of my writing anywhere and of course, I chose my favorite Hetalia pairing: Austria/Hungary. This is set in an alternate universe by the way, so personal names are used.

NEW Note: I tried revising a bit, hopefully everything flows better! Thank you so much everyone who has replied and asked me to continue this! 08/03/2013

Disclaimer: I own nothing. _

Elizaveta Hedervary opened the door to her music theory room and walked in. She was the first one to appear that morning, even earlier than her new theory professor whom she had already heard some rumors about. She picked a seat that was along the wall yet not too far away from his desk. Elizaveta was never the type to dry her hair in the morning and undid the messy bun she had put it in, letting her wet tendrils hang around her shoulders and down her back.

Elizaveta was still getting the hang of acting more feminine. It was a slow transition from her boyish years and from time to time, she would struggle with little things like maintaining her current hair length or cutting the whole damn thing off but so far, she felt pretty good in her skin, just the way she was.

'I'm always the first person to arrive in the morning for anything in this place. Doesn't anyone take music seriously?' Elizaveta asked herself. Suddenly, she felt something vibrating against her hip, where her cell was located in her blazer's pocket.

"HEY BITCH. Where the fuck are you? I thought we'd go out to Starbucks before your class today :/" It was a text from Gilbert, who for some reason she considered a friend. And if it wasn't for her teaching him how to use the T9 function on his phone, the text would have been gibberish; Gilbert was a horrible texter.

Sighing, she started texting back. "No, Gil. I wake up way earlier than you and I don't have the money to pay for your coffee today so either get a job or don't ask me to go 3" was her reply.

She slipped her phone back into her pocket and decided to try out the piano that was in the room. It was a golden brown color and it looked a little abused in some places where it showed signs of being handled incorrectly. Her fingers brushed tenderly along its keys before making up her mind to sit down and play. Eliza had taught herself to play piano when she was younger since she could not afford lessons. She did her best whenever she read music but she preferred to learn it by ear and it was something she secretly prided herself on. She did not need perfect pitch in order figure out a piece by herself, and thus she considered herself a decent pianist.

The door to the room opened and closed with a soft click. Eliza was focused on using the right amount of pressure, the right amount of feeling for this piece that she loved so much. She breathed whenever the music paused, moved her body along with its phrasing, letting the music sink deep underneath her skin and settle somewhere in her soul.

A trill here, a sustained chord there, and the piece was almost perfect. She closed her eyes as she was nearing the final measures. There was an aching tension that could be felt in the atmosphere in the room and with the piece's last chords, it would surely dissolve into nothing.

The door suddenly slammed open and she turned around with a bewildered look on her face while her hands remained suspended above the piano, ready for the last chord.

"Yo, Lizzie! The fuck is that you're playing? Come on, I know you know songs that are way cooler than that 'Cho-pin' shit you like so much," Gilbert said to her as he swaggered in, setting down two cups of Starbuck's coffee on the piano.

"Ahem, I'm going to be polite in assuming you don't know how to pronounce Chopin's name correctly and request that you leave my classroom immediately."

A low voice had cut through the atmosphere and Elizaveta felt a shiver run along her spine. She glanced in the new voice's direction and realized that the man who now stood in front of her was the new director of music and her new music theory professor. He remained perfectly still even though she knew he must be absolutely furious underneath that calm exterior of his.

"W-What is this? Fine fuck it, I'm outtie. Mein Gott, Liz. You need to find way cooler professors or next time don't expect me to be pullin' these favors for you!" Gilbert said as he snatched up his drink and proceeded walking toward the door.

"But I didn't ask you to-" Elizaveta called out after him.

"HAHA SEE YOU LATER LOSER!" He slammed the door behind him as he left.

She winced at the sound of the door and looked back at the piano. Eliza refused to make eye contact with the man who now probably held no respect for her because of one Gilbert Beilschmidt. She grasped the coffee that Gilbert had set down on the piano, gently patted the piano with her free hand as if to soothe it and ducked out of the room. The next thing she heard was the sound of Chopin's Nocturne in G minor being played. The song she had just played.

And it sounded effortless coming from him.

'Now I can never speak to him ever again. He probably thinks I'm a shit piano player, oh my god. I am so screwed for this class now,' she thought to herself as she pressed her back against a wall.

The coffee Gilbert brought her was surprisingly nice; he actually remembered what she usually ordered. She mulled over how he could've paid for it since he always got his money from his hard-working blonde younger brother, who struggled with teaching Gilbert responsibility when it came to finances. He didn't have much success with it, as she recalled.

She sighed. The sigh seemed to echo through the empty hallways and by the time she heard it again, she could have sworn it wasn't her voice anymore.

In fact, it really wasn't.

"Miss Elizaveta, I presume? You may come in. I do not recall asking you to leave."

It was him, her professor. He stood there in the doorway, holding the door open for her. His name was still unknown to her so she managed a nod and followed him in. As she passed him, she could smell his cologne and his own natural scent. He smelled of vanilla, sheet music, rosin and perhaps...

'Something sweet? Like a cake...'

She was already very curious about him. She headed straight for her seat while he took his behind his desk. The professor shuffled some papers about which gave Elizaveta the opportunity to give him a good look-over.

Chocolate colored hair, with a few strands of hair framing his face with one single strand sticking out at a peculiar angle. An image of him attempting to smooth it back popped into her mind and she had to stifle a giggle at the thought. A small beauty mark also graced the side of his mouth. She couldn't really tell what color his eyes were but could see he wore glasses that he had to constantly push back up the bridge of his nose.

He had typical long, thin pianist fingers and wide, square palms that were surely strong. Eliza found herself blushing at the thought of seeing him play the piano.

"You know, I enjoyed hearing you play."

She was caught off guard by his voice once again as she stared at him. He had not looked up from his paperwork but he could feel her eyes on his figure. Eliza immediately began to run her fingers through her hair, making sure her flower hair clip was still in place right next to her ear.

"Oh, thank you. I don't really know how to play piano though," she mumbled the words, feigning inexperience.

"You seem to play just fine, Miss Elizaveta." The way he kept saying her name… she almost hated hearing the sound of her name, but the way he measured out the syllables, the way he let her first name roll off his tongue like sweetened milk and out between those two soft pink lips of his...

Elizaveta knew. She already wanted him.

She could feel every inch of her visible (and not so visible) flesh suddenly tingle with heat and sparks. That curl of his definitely needed to be smoothed – by her. His hands seemed perfect to mold themselves on her breasts while breathing her name, his mouth kissing and nipping her neck. She wanted to be...

And then the rest of the class trudged into the room, chattering loudly about their summer. It was finally 8:30 A.M: the beginning of the day, the beginning of her personal hell.

"Now class," he said as everyone had finally filled their seats. "As you may have heard, I am the new director of music here at this university. I am also your music theory and aural skills professor and of course, to those of you who are piano majors, I will be your instructor."

Silence was expect due to the majority of the class still looking bleary and exhausted. He stood at the front of the room; every movement was specific, calculated.

"Now, for attendance. I expect each and every one of you to be here at least ten minutes ahead of time in order to be prepared for the beginning of class. Let's begin with the left side of the room."

'Left? Oh fuck...I'm the first seat! Fuuuuuuucckkkkkk.' Elizaveta could feel her palms grow cool and sweaty while she desperately tried to soothe her inner voice from screaming further profanities.

"And you are..?" Her professor, who had yet to name himself to her and the rest of the class, took a step forward in her direction and looked down at her.

His eyes were a beautiful royal purple.

'He knows my name, why is he..? Whatever, better answer it anyway.'

"Elizaveta Hedervary, but I prefer to be called 'Eliza' or 'Lizzie,'" her voice rang out clearly.

"Understood, Miss Elizaveta. My name is Roderich Edelstein." He had already decided how he would address her. Before he moved on to the next student, she thought she even saw a hint of a smile on the corner of his lips. There was also the weight of everyone's eyes on her before he continued going down the rows, asking people their names. No one else seemed to be having any trouble saying their names for him. No one else seemed to be anxious over having their music professor look down upon them. No one else was having a difficult time fighting their instinct to run away. But then again, Elizaveta's instinct was always to fight, not run. She stayed in the room, staring down at her desk while tightly gripping the fabric of her skirt until her knuckles turned white.

'I am so screwed. I am so screwed.'

Eliza wanted to fade away into the wall like her friend Matthew seemed quite skilled at doing but for one second, Professor Edelstein glanced at her and instead, she straightened her back and was poised to do anything he asked of her.

Anything.

Anything.