A/N: Hey guys, look, I wrote a thing. It was written in the space of a forty minute bus journey, so might be quite bad.

This is the kind of thing I come up in Chemistry especially when adding soap to water to see if it is hard or soft.

I do not own Hetalia OH GOD WHY RUB IT IN WHY DON'T YOU.

Anyway, onwards with the story!

He walked through the crowd, which parted before him. He blew the ladies kisses and sent them winks, which made them fawn over him. Some screamed and a few even fainted. Flicking his long blond hair over his shoulder, the boy cast his blue eyes about the corridor. Everyone was looking. Just what he wanted.

He strode into the classroom, proclaiming his presence by a loud 'bonjour!' All eyes were again on him. People looked up from what they were doing to stare at his face in all its perfection.

Just as he was about to sit down, he noticed something's strange. Someone wasn't looking. The boy had messy blond hair and he was scribbling furiously in a notebook. His face was hidden by his fringe, which flopped over his eyes.

He was furious. He wasn't the centre of attention. All eyes weren't on him. This mistake must be rectified.

"Excusez-moi!" He said. Everyone turned to listen. But still the boy did not look up.

"You, with the blond hair that could clearly do with some conditioner and a good cut! Writing away in your notebook!"

His classmates, seeing he wasn't talking to them, returned to their previous activities. But he wasn't concentrating on them. His eyes were on the boy, who had still not responded. That was it. He would have to resort to physical contact.

He strode over to the boy and tapped on his shoulder. The boy almost jumped out of his skin. His green eyes looked around for a second before settling on him. Yes, this was more like it.

"Can I help you?" The boy asked. His accent was unmistakably British, yet it sounded different to all the British accents he had heard before. His voice sounded strained, almost robotic.

"Yes, you can. I was trying to get your attention for a while now." The Brit was staring at him, watching his mouth move. It was a bit unnerving.

"Oh really?" The boy seemed genuinely shocked and sorry; he could easily read it on his face. "I am ever so sorry. What's was it that you wanted to talk to me about?"

"I did not want to talk to you about anything. I just wanted you to look at my beauty." The boy's large eyebrows were furrowed in concentration, like it was hard for him to hear. When he seemed to process what he had said, his face contorted in anger and he began to shout.

"If that was all you wanted then you could have left me alone! I genuinely thought I had done something wrong, and you had wanted to say something important! Just leave me be!" The boy's voice grew louder and louder, until all conversation had stopped. No one shouted at him.

"But Mon Cher, all eyes must be on me when I enter a room. It is the law."

"I have not heard of this law you speak of! Let me go back to my writing now! It is absolutely ridiculous that all eyes must be on you! Why can't you just be happy with the majority of eyes on you, or even one or two?" The boy was still shouting, and he could now be heard in the corridor. People were popping their heads round the door to see what was going on. The Brit's voice was becoming more and more distorted, and he was beginning to lose his British accent.

He was starting to get worried. People were staring. Normally, this would have been a good thing, but this boy was getting angrier and he was afraid he would hit him soon. After all, he seemed to have no regard for the other laws, so why should he know of the 'no hitting' one?

"Maybe you should stop shouting."

There was a pause before the boy's reply, as with every time before.

"I am not shouting! I am speaking normally!"

Before he could go on, a man burst through the door. He had blond, wavy hair that fell to just above his chin and a curl that curved and fell in front of his purple tinted eyes. He was clutching what appeared to be a toy bear.

He quietly stepped in front of him and into the boy's line of sight. The man put the bear on the floor before pushing both of his hands down. The boy seemed to respond to this as he immediately stopped talking.

The new man made hand motions and the boy nodded before looking downcast at his feet and shuffling out the classroom. The man picked up the bear and spoke to the class in a voice so quiet you had to strain your ears to be heard.

"I'm sorry about Arthur. He sometimes forgets to keep the volume down. If he ever does it again, come find me. I'll be around somewhere, probably in the school office. Go there and ask for Matthew and I'll come running." Matthew smiled sweetly before leaving.

He smiled to himself, taking his usual seat at the back of the class. This 'Arthur' was interesting. Not looking up, shouting at him even? Did Arthur not even know who he was? No, that was impossible. Everyone knew who he was. His friends and he were the kings of the school, with him being the leader of course. But this boy, who didn't even have the excuse of being new, did not bow to him.

He smirked. Arthur would rue the day he ever forgot to look at Francis Bonnefoy.

A/N: So… what did you think? Good or utter rubbish? As I said, this was written quickly. It is short and a prologue thing I think.

Can anyone guess what is up with Arthur? I think it's pretty obvious but anyway.

Please tell me if you think I should continue this or not! (AKA R&R)