I must say a few things before the story: I do not own Axis Powers Hetalia. Almost everything, including the town, is completely fictional and has nothing to do with real people and places (if we do not count England and America).

The story's atmosphere is tender and indeed sweet and reminds me of acoustic guitar playing with slightly off-tune singing.

Please remember that I cannot spell English perfectly, because it is not my native language.

Alfred felt his heart beating more rapidly in excitement when he thought of the upcoming journey to England. Every summer he went there to spend his vacation in a little town where his grandmother lived. The happiest memories he had were from the town of Soundstone. It was a bizarre name indeed, but Alfred loved everything about it. His luggage was getting filled with various clothes and comic books as he hummed some cheesy love song that was currently played on radio. A smile that Alfred couldn't restrain formed on his lips. He had a lot of reasons to be happy right now.

The boy was very fond of his homecountry, United States of America, and was proud of being American. But England felt like another home. It was true that he was not the best at geography, but he knew the British Isles. They attracted him; their legends, people, languages... (Alfred would never tell anyone that ten years back he thought them being a part of America) In some point of life he even tried to catch the accent, even though it was quickly left behind as a good try. To be honest, he loved England as much as he loved America. Although the American had visited England for several times, he hadn't got any friends from there. Soundstone didn't have much people that were same-aged as Alfred. But every summer he hoped to make friends there. Within a year the humans living in the town did not change much, but there always was a chance, right?

The buddies he had in America were nice, but not really close. Alfred wanted a real friend. When he was having a bad day and wanted to speak with someone, his 'friends' just ignored it and wanted to have fun instead of comforting or listening. Well, things like that were a 'gay' thing to do as a man, as society seemed to think. Why it wasn't normal? Girls do it all the time. The deepest conversation that he had had with his 'friends' was about the question of the slice of bread always ending on the floor with the buttered side down. How frivolous. If he tried to speak with a girl, they thought that Alfred was flirting to them. Maybe England had better friends to offer.

For a seventeen-year-old teenager Alfred Jones had experienced much. His parents had divorced before he had turned five and Alfred's father disappeared out of sight. Practically Alfred was completely raised by his mother. They weren't close, unlike what anyone would have thought. His mother pretty much ignored him. The only one actually close to Alfred was his grandmother Catherine. She always listened to his miseries, appreciated his choices and had a gentle smile on her lips. This grandmother was not the usual type, who bakes every day and drowns her grandchildren with money. Often she asked Alfred to help her keeping the house up, cleaning it or going to the shop whenever they needed something. Alfred did not mind at all, he loved lending a hand to people, especially grandma. She was kind without having to give anything. Every time Alfred received something from her, it was big and expensive. These presents were treasured greatly by him. The tickets to England were also bought by his grandmother. The blue-eyed youngster just couldn't thank her enough.

But this summer was going to be special. Alfred felt it in his lungs. He was going to turn eighteen in England – and not just that, grandmother had said that she had a surprise for him. Whatever it was, Alfred knew that he would love it.

,,,

"Hello again England!" shouted this young man who had finally arrived out of the said country's airport. He breathed the air deeply and let the British atmosphere tingle in him. It was uncharacteristically sunny. Busy businessmen ran around the building. There were also happy families welcoming their beloved members back to their homeland. And we are not forgetting the stereotypically loud American tourists with cameras. Even when the ambiance was expediting, it felt joyous. Alfred was stuck marveling the milieu. Almost he forgot that there was a bus for him to go to. Quickly he ran to the already known stop and made it just in time. The bus ride was going to be dull, but he had his MP3 along so it was not big of a problem. Slowly his eyelids went down as he listened to relaxing music and watched the beautiful view of British countryside from the bus.

Alfred got awaken when the bus stopped. When looked through the windows, could see that the evening had gone far already. "Hey, lad, we are in Soundstone", the driver shouted friendly from the front seat. Quickly he grabbed his luggage and walked dazedly out of the long vehicle. Just a few lights were seen in the town. Good that Alfred recognized the place even better than his jeans' pockets so he knew where his grandmother's house was located at. Soon he was at her front door and was welcomed warmly regardless of the time.

"Let's get you sleeping, Alfred dear, before anything. I will show the surprise on tomorrow morning", was the first words Catherine uttered when Alfred stepped in while swaying slightly from tiredness. Since Alfred was her only grandchild, he had a room arranged only for him. He got asleep the moment he crashed down on the bed. Catherine chuckled softly as she left the room.

The sunrays thought that it was alright to invade Alfred's room through the big window and attack on the sleeping American. Outside the birds had prepared a splendid concert for Alfred to wake up. Sadly this blue-eyed adolescent was not amused. Soon he forgave them both when he smelled the most wonderful smell to exist on mornings like this; bacon! As quick as he could he wore proper clothes and went devouring the praised British breakfast that was set by his grandmother. "Good morning, dear. I see that you slept well. Why won't we go looking at your surprise at outside?" asked she with an impatient grin.

It didn't take long until they both were standing on the front yard, looking at a brand-new, shining bike. When Alfred finally found out what his present was this time, his mouth got open with amazement. "It's… Awesome! Thank you so much!" he rejoiced as he studied the bike. The American never really got anything else than a little amont of weekly allowance, so this was a big thing to him. Grandma did not do anything but smile. "I'm glad that you like it. Would you be so sweet that you'd go to the store with it? Here's the shopping list and money", was heard as an answer as Catherine bestowed the said things to the youngster. With a wide grin the American boy bicycled off the lawn.

He was not in a rush; that's why Alfred was very slowly getting forward. Rather than concentrating on the main task, he liked to look around and admire the beautiful buildings. Many had decorated their yards with great effort. Alfred noted that the British seemed to like row houses a lot. He even saw some countryside near the town. As he continued bicycling in the speed near to a snail's, Alfred got slightly closer to the shop. More haste, less speed.

A soft humming filled the air and distracted the American to get him stopping and looking at where it came from. The first thing he saw was a white balcony that had nice little ornaments, noticeable blossoms everywhere on the structure and a little tea table with two adorned chairs that matched with it. It was in the same level as the ground so Alfred could actually climb inside if he wanted to. On the balcony stood a young man, maybe in the same age as Alfred. He seemed to be the culprit to the voice, unaware of the exceptional listener. The man was watering flowers that embellished the place. To describe this supposed Englishman, who was shorter than Alfred, he had a mellow-looking blond hair and strongly black eyebrows that made his face even more handsome. His clothes were quite plain with a white t-shirt and loose blue jeans. Alfred did not notice that he was staring until the singing paused.

"Hey, um… Am I doing something strange to gain your stare…?" said the man on the balcony that was just a few feet next to the blue-eyed boy who stood there holding his bike. The blush of embarrassment flooded on Alfred's face. "Oh, I'm sorry, dude. Didn't mean to… I mean, you have a nice balcony", he tried to explain his actions with a slight guilt.

"Thank you…?" the little confusion poked the Brit. Not every day came people complimenting his flowers. "I haven't seen you around here before. Are you possibly from America, according to the accent?" he continued.

"Yeah, but I'm here for summer since my grandma's living here", Alfred grinned. Maybe this Englishman could be his new friend?

The man answered with a gentle smile. "You're not a tourist, then. I see. My name is Arthur", cooed this person and Alfred noticed that the Brit had a very feminine face. Arthur crossed his arms on the balcony's railing and leant to it. The speed of the American's racing heart got faster a little for an unknown reason. "I'm Alfred Jones", prated the blue-eyed as he got a little closer to the balcony leading the bike within him. Arthur shot a stare on Alfred's eyes to study them.

"Your eye colour is nice… They remind me of veronica chamaedrys, germander speedwell. Too bad that it's a weed", trifled the Brit playfully after a little silence. Alfred did not really figure out how he was supposed to react since Arthur did not seem to be meaning to be mean. The rare color of green adorned the Englishman's eyes. To Alfred they reminded him of the first verdant grass blades that informed people that the spring's come. Those heralds were the American's one of the biggest delights after a long, cold winter. The boy noticed himself completely captivated by the eyes.

"Um, thanks. Yours is cool too", he replied. Alfred was not the kind who could form his thoughts into words so well. He had a lot of magnificent ideas to write, but the writing (and grammar) itself was challenging. The teachers at school weren't really encouraging by giving Fs to nearly every essay he had to write.

Arthur seemed to be amused by the answer. "I get that a lot. But thank you", was the simple sentence that was said with a mesmerizing British tone, what made it much more notable.

"Is this apartment your own?" asked Alfred. He was sure that Arthur was new in this area, since he wasn't there last summer. It was not common for a boy in the same age as Alfred to have an own accommodation, even when it was a small one.

"Yes, I think that for a 21-year-old independence from parents is very usual", the Brit answered calmly. He was not offended by the question.

"Oh, I thought that you are still in high school..." Alfred said without noticing his rudeness. Just the face of Arthur expressed the nonplussed reaction. But because the American did not mean bad by that, he tried to ignore the comment.

"So... You are going to spend the entire summer in Soundstone? No London?" the Englishman uttered.

"Yeah, I like it better here. From the first day of June to the tenth of August." Arthur looked surprised by the length. Then he continued watering the plants silently. "That's a long break. Won't you get bored?"

"It might get boring, but I've got lots of comics and stuff to keep me entertained at least for a while. I don't really know anyone around here so I can't really hang out with people... Even though we speak the same language!" pratteled Alfred.

"I must agree. I think that you are the first person to actually talk to me around here. I just moved to Soundstone, you see", Arthur smiled softly.

"Ah, okay... Hey, I promised to grandma that I go buying some groceries from the shop around here, so I must go... But same place, same time, tomorrow...?" Alfred asked hopefully and received a nod from the Brit. "Alright."

So the two gave each other goodbyes and went back to their lives with a little pounding fascination in their chest caused by the other.

This summer was not going to be uneventful for them.

Author's rambling that you can skip:

(8:07 A.M., May 18, 2014)

I want to congratulate you for reading it completely. I hope that it didn't have a too boring start. I have planned this very well if compared to the earlier stories. I managed to write seven pages of just ideas concerning the story. I'm still kind of new at this writing thing, so I want to ask you to use a little kinder words if you have to inform me of something you didn't really like in the story. The next chapter will be more eventful, I promise.

Since the summer has landed on my home country too, once I get on the summer vacation (not long until it starts…!) I surely will be writing more. I have a few ideas in my head already and they wait for getting written or drawn.

I recommend you to listen to certain songs when you read this story. They inspired me and help with imagining the atmosphere. Please search "Never Shout Never" from YouTube. "Trampoline" is my favourite, but there are many others that suit into this story, such as "Happy", "Big city dreams", "lovesick" and others. Oh, and a few from "The Cure". "Friday I'm in love" and "Close to me". Wait, there's one more. Osamuiraisan's cover from "Hello, How are you".

If you want to imagine the town of Soundstone, it's very much like the town in "the last of the Summer wine". It's one of my favourite TV-shows!

I think that I may talk a little too much on these personal sections so I'll end it here.

P.S. I just noticed how much I dislike the word "belly".