Rated M. This is a piece of literary fiction. The Author does not claim ownership pertaining to the ideas/characteristics/ect, of Hetalia or any subsidiary thereof.

Okay everyone, this is what I am calling the 'Twilight' disclaimer. Stalking is a serious thing, a stalker is something you should be afraid of and not lead on. Go to the police if you think someone is following you around. It is funny/romantic in this story because this is just a story. Stalkers are not a romantic thing by nature. And, I want you all to be safe.

Rated M.

OoOoOo

Today. He would tell Russia today.

Belarus was determined.

He could wait no longer. He owed it to his sibling nation to inform her that he would no longer marry her. Belarus walked toward her. He had to do it now, before she started to leave again. It did not matter who was around or would witness this. Russia deserved the truth. His heart now chanted for another.

Love me. Love me.

His eyes landed on America, his betrothed. He steeled his determination. Cautiously noting that she was chatting animatedly with Hong Kong. That was fine. Japan lingered somewhere to the side. Belarus could see that Germany was speaking with Russia. He would need to get Russia by herself.

"Russia," he said quietly, when he was within three feet of her.

His dear sister paled, her violet eyes widened and she began to shake with maidenly virtue again. She was still sweet and wonderful. The way her eyes darted to Germany and then back to him.

"I must speak with you alone."

"Oh-oh! Belarus... I-"

"It is important."

Germany carefully exited, not wanting to upset the male Slavic nation. Bright blue eyes were drawn by the commotion. Russia started shouting something in Russian. It sounded vaguely similar to 'No, don't leave me alone with him'.

Belarus smiled tightly. He did not have time for childish games today.

OoOoOo

America blinked, and felt a sense of awkward empathy settle into the pit of her stomach.

Oh lord. This was not going to end well. Belarus appeared flustered and his cold blue eyes kept flicking back to Russia, and then toward America.

Was he...? Was he looking for some help? That thought perked her up slightly. Poor Belarus. The guy was just really, really in love with Russia. But, he came on so strong that it frightened the Slavic nation. How it was possible to frighten Russia, America didn't like to think about.

However, even when Belarus had lived with her for a brief moment in time, the guy had been so frosty and stand-offish that America had never been worried. About her safety. Belarus had no interest in her. He had been polite, she recalled. He'd even admitted to breaking one of her coffee cups, back in the 50's. It had been one that she had kept undamaged for twenty years prior to that.

Actually, it had been a tea cup, and England had gifted it to her. A sign that there was more hope for their political relations than the attitude at the time had suggested. If she remembered correctly, and she did -though she often acted differently to annoy Canada-, Belarus had gathered the larger pieces to present to her. It had been unintentional, the cup being broken, but it had meant so much to her. America had gathered the pieces from him, a crumpled look of devastation on her face.

How was she going to tell England? What would the cranky blonde woman say?

Belarus had surprised her then. He had shifted uncomfortably. His blue eyes had watched her like a hawk. His features had been in a carefully blank mask.

"It was precious to you?" He asked lowly, his voice serious and deep.

"Yes." America responded with a gentle sadness.

"Then, I apologize. It was not... I had not intended...-" He struggled for the proper words. A faint look of distress was found in his gaze.

She looked at him them. Truly saw him, and noticed that he was honestly apologizing to her, for harming something that mattered to her. America gave a soft smile, understanding what it was like. She had been the 'bull in the china shop' as England often reminded her. Full of pride and large ideals.

"It's alright, Belarus," America said after a moment. An look of forgiveness and a bit of her usual happiness seeped through. "I will just see if I can glue it back together."

America shook her head slightly, blinking as she pulled herself from the memory. The same discomfort was stamped around Belarus' eyes, once more. His body was stiff and he was floundering. It tugged at her heart strings, like a well played guitar. Damn it. She was going to help him. She couldn't let him embarrass himself in front of the world. She'd likely go down with him... but he wouldn't be alone.

Freaking hero complex she had. Oh well. Too late now.

But how was she going to help here?

"Russia," Belarus tried again, clearing his throat.

Russia let out a squeak and stared at him as if he were about to pull a serpent from his mouth. Which, America admitted, would be really strange at the moment.

"Russia, I-" He floundered again. "America and I-"

Crap. Now he'd called her into this and why the hell was he bringing her into this?! Did the man have a death wish? Russia hated America being mentioned and-

Oh! Oh wait... was he trying to make Russia jealous? Because they had been kidding around about getting married. With the whole giving her his kids, fiasco. Oh geez. That stuff hardly ever worked, but she sort of couldn't blame the guy for resorting to desperate measures. He'd been chasing after Russia for as long as America could remember. Alright. She could use this. This opened up some possibilities.

The Star-Spangled nation's mind raced. She could see the dozen or so countries watching the pair, not bothering to attempt some subtlety. She sighed, this was typical. Back straight, shoulders back, chin up.

Belarus wanted to make Russia jealous. That didn't seem dangerous for the world...at all...

She did what she did best. America, went straight into the fray.

"You're not tomcatting around on me are you, darlin'?" America drawled out with amusement and she made certain to give Belarus an expectant look.

His cold blue eyes widened marginally, and his head whipped toward her.

"America," he stated, slightly surprised and America poured on more of the charm. She took a moment to wink at Belarus. She was letting him know that she had his back on this one.

His cheeks dusted pink, and he glanced back at Russia. Slightly more nervous? No need to fret dude! America is right here!

Texas flashed, almost giving off the perception that she'd been waiting for the chance to interrupt them.

"Hey Russia," She said brightly.

Russia stopped shaking and took the time to glare at the Star-Spangled nation. Ah... there was that spark of destructive rage that only she managed to produce.

"Америка"

The spectacled nation leaned closer toward Belarus. Russia's violet gaze narrowed to near slits, as a wide smile bloomed on her features.

"Tomcatting?" She asked, in articulated and crisp English. Though it still possessed an obvious accent.

America grinned at that. Mentally, she thanked Russia for playing along.

"Yes," the Star-Spangled nation replied easily. Her precocious nature came to the fore front. "Didn't you hear?"

Russia started chuckling, which was never actually a good sign... now that America thought about it. But, politically speaking, this was incredibly tame for the two of them.

"Hear, what?"

Alright. So, worst case scenario, Russia was going to figure out that America was messing around and come after her with that freaky shovel she kept everywhere. Best case scenario, Belarus' little plot to make the female Slavic nation jealous would work and the pair would become deliriously happy.

The best and worst possible outcomes were just light years apart. And, there was the looming threat that Russia was going to get her panties in a twist on this one. No biggie.

"Belarus," America said gently, patiently. A bit of amusement and glee working into her words. "And I, are getting hitched."

OoOoOo

He went unnaturally still at her words. Stated so openly and frankly. Other nations were not much better off.

She'd said it. America had just simply... said the words. The ones he had struggled with to properly break the news to Russia. America had been able to tell his Sister nation without so much as a stumble.

His heart started beating wildly. Erratically. There. That sense of joy was floating in his chest. The tips of his fingers shook, but he calmed himself down. This was American brashness at its finest. It was not the eloquent speech he'd had planned. Russia did not take changes all that well. Whenever Belarus attempted to surprise her with flowers or showing up at her home unannounced, Russia always leapt into her childish games.

She also had gotten much faster at running, for when they played tag, than in their childhood.

Cold, hard, and delighted eyes shone fondly at the blonde female that was announcing the most life-altering news Belarus possessed in some time to Russia.

"Isn't that right?" America asked, with an impish look on her face.

He nodded. The whispers in his thoughts were oddly silent as he looked at her. She'd said it. In front of everyone.

She... she cared for him.

America. She cared. Belarus loved her. He could feel it. It was more than simply not wanting to stab her anymore. It was more than her borderline-obscene declaration of wanting his children.

All the silent pain. The heartbreak. The broken roads of his past. They all ended at America. The Star-Spangled nation that had always been dancing somewhere in the background of Russia. Even as she was taking glancing blows and direct hits from other nations... even bearing the brunt of Belarus' scorn...the weight of the world's anger...

The Fool.

The Liar.

The Hero.

The Bleeding Heart.

The Aggressor.

The Defender.

So many names. So many times, words had fallen short on fully describing all she was. Those perceptions of her were scattered in a thousand pieces on the floor.

Yet, she was always smiling. Smiling at him. Waiting. It always seemed that America, for all her brashness... was waiting for something.

It was more than simple smiling. Wasn't it. She genuinely cared for him. Loved him. Accepted him. His hand reached for her, wanting the feel of her warm skin upon his. Their fingers intertwined, and America did not pull away. His betrothed. The one standing with him, in the face of Russia's understandable anguish. It pained him to cause Russia any sort of pain. he had always sworn to protect her, and he would. She was precious to him. A sister that deserved his loyalty.

But, his betrothed needed him now.

Cold, hard, blue eyes were resolute.

"Yes," Belarus said calmly. "that is correct."

America was his bride.

Wide violet eyes, and a face devoid of a smile, met Belarus' blue gaze.

OoOoOo

America had been concerned that Russia would be upset at the mock proclamation. She had not anticipated... Canada.

"Ow. Ow. Fuck! Ow." America wailed.

Canada did not let her ear go.

"What the hell was that?" Her northern sister demanded angrily. Violet eyes appeared slightly murderous. She continued to pull at America's ear, as she pulled her down the hall. They passed France, who opened and then closed her mouth, before shaking her head and leaving. She was not getting involved.

Last time, Canada had nearly gone she-hulk on everyone. America tugged at Canada's freakishly strong hands.

"Come on," she grumped. "I was just helping."

"Helping?!" Canada demanded as she opened a door, and shoved America inside. Though, there was no really harm intended. Canada was just in mother hen mode. A very dangerous mode that upon more than one occasion left America with the taste of soap in her mouth.

The normally gentle nation slammed the door behind her.

"How was that helping? Tell me, right now. How the hell does that help!?"

America rubbed at her sore ear. Muttering how Canada was a steroid pusher, under her breath.

"Belarus wants to make Russia jealous. How better to do that, than with me helping?" America responded caustically.

Violet eyes stared at her blankly.

"You and... Belarus... were joking?"

America shrugged, and made a face.

"Not exactly joking, more like...um...making a rouse."

"I don't think that is how the saying goes."

The smaller nation huffed a breath.

"Did you at least calm down?" America asked lightly. "'Cause Belarus is totally in on it."

Canada did not appear convinced, nor had she calmed down.

"Really? Belarus is in on this?" She crossed her arms over her midsection.

"Oh totally," America reassured. "He even continued the joke about me having his babies."

That didn't exactly sound like Belarus to Canada, but whenever America was involved, sometimes things turned out strangely. Scratch that, most of the time. There was a time or two where it was decidedly dull.

"Well, genius, what happens when Russia finds out?"

It was a valid question. America pursed her lips.

"Well?"

"I'm thinking!" She replied heatedly. "Look, it will be fine. Russia wouldn't hurt Belarus. He'd never let her. Unless he was into that sort of thing." Bright blue eyes glanced away and then toward Canada.

"Is he into that sort of thing?"

The Northern nation paused. "Why would I know if he was?"

America blinked and appeared nonplused.

"Don't play innocent. I know what you and the Netherlands were up to last month."

Canada flushed a bright red.

"Y-you...!"

"I wasn't spying," America replied with a growing grin. "I just asked the Netherlands what she did that weekend. Surprise. Surprise. Your name came up."

The larger nation began covering her face with her hands.

"We are talking about Belarus!"

"Belarus is my concern, not yours," America reminded her candidly. "And, I would much rather talk about anything that embarrasses you."

Violet eyes peaked at her from behind fingers, and a pair of glasses.

"I hate you." Canada muttered.

America beamed.

"Aw. I love you too!"

OoOoOo

"Russia," Belarus said calmly. "Do we need so many guests?"

His sister, who had already been in possession of several wedding magazines -which caused a twitch of discomfort in Belarus' chest-, was hiding her sorrow very well. She appeared nearly ecstatic at his news. As any good sister would do. Her hands were full of color swatches, and Russia was already on hold with a famous bakery for a wedding cake.

"Only the best for you, brother dear!" Russia insisted, as she continued to compile a list of guests.

His cold blue eyes watched the scene with some misgivings. How long had poor Russia been planning a wedding? It had obviously been to him, but she was continuing on so bravely. He was very proud of her. She was not displaying an ounce of weakness.

"Shouldn't America be the one to-"

Violet eyes narrowed briefly.

"Nonsense!" Russia said good-naturedly. "We want you wed as soon as possible. America's people take so long on such things."

He blinked. He had not known that.

"They do?"

"Oh yes," Russia gushed with some dismay, "I have heard tell that they can be engaged for decades. Her people."

Belarus frowned at the thought. Decades? If humans could be engaged for so long, then how long would the nation take to marry him? Could it also take hundreds of years? No. It couldn't.

Love me. Love me.

She was his betrothed. He needed America. She needed him. And, they could not have illigeitimate children. America had said she would not allow it. And he would not let the other nations mock his children. Never.

"Perhaps," he said, reaching a conclusion, "you are doing the right thing. You should plan the wedding."

Russia clapped her hands in glee.

"Thank you! The sooner you two are wed, the better."

How hard she was trying to hide her sadness. It was commendable.