Unladylike (Pirate! Hetalia x Modern! Reader) 8

Unladylike (Pirate! Hetalia x Modern! Reader) 8
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Antonio had just left the room to check out all the commotion that had seemed to suddenly break out, leaving you with the Italian brothers to our own thoughts. A few moments after he had stepped out of the room, an eerie silence fell among you all, not awkward, but a silence that suggested something was out of the ordinary. Furrowing your brows as you turned to them, they exchanged almost identical expressions suggesting agreement. 

"Do you feel like someone's watching us?" Feliciano started with a quivering tone, his eyes narrowed into a worried glint. Romano's forehead dampened, his teeth clamped tightly as he folded his arms together. 

"Y-yeah." he muttered, making you nod in reply. Like you were speaking of the devil, a light, sharp finger poked at your shoulder, the shock snapping through your body making it seem more painful that it actually was. A chill ran up to your neck and made your hair stand on its ends, but you turned around nevertheless. You met with a pair of soft lavender eyes, gazing at you apologetically as though they were saying 'sorry for scaring you'. 

It was like nobody even saw him enter the room. 

You widened your eyes and felt your lips stretch into a smile. 

"Mattie! Oh my gosh, it was just you!" you let out the deep breath you had held in and embraced him warmly. He nodded slowly, accepting your affection with hesitation. 

"Yes. I just wanted to show you something." 

*** Time skip***

At the tempest 

It was strange for him to be so hasty of things, especially for someone like Mathew. Well against all odds, he was practically dragging you down the hallway with directions that you have never taken before. Deciding not to question his actions, you stumbled on your feet just so you could keep up with him despite him having a grip on your wrist. You both finally arrived at your destination, a cramped room with nothing but a creaky old bed and a tall bookshelf, its height managing to scratch the room. You stepped inside and lingered your gaze at the quiet Canadian, whom was trailing his fingers around the many spines of the many books resting on the shelves. 

"This feels great, doesn't it?" he muttered quietly, his eyes never leaving the books, almost like an airy whisper. 

"Yeah... I like doing that too, haha." Standing back up on your feet, you sauntered over to him to take a closer look at what he was trying to find. 

Your brain only clicked one second after, but there were books hidden behind the front row of books. He pulled out all of the books sitting in the front row and scattered them onto the mattress in an almost irreverent way; but he didn't seem to care. You were about to say something, but the heavy textbooks that sat hiding behind the old novels belonging to the ship had come into full view, you had forgotten about that completely. 

Instead of confusion and amazement appearing on your face, you were shocked out of your pants with what he had revealed to you. 

There were several large textbooks relating to science; the astonishing quality and bursts of colors contrasting with everything else. Sliding your hand inside, you pulled one out and gave the front page a good look over, the hard, smooth cover feeling like treasure under your fingertips. The title was also slightly pop up, puffy kind of, something that you wouldn't have cared about before. 

Turning to him, you presented the book to him and gave him an 'are-you-serious' look. 

"Oh my freaking god, dude! You should have told me earlier!" you exclaimed with euphoria, heart now racing in your chest. He shushed at you and placed an index on your lip. 

"Inside voices! Someone could hear us!" he whisper shouted, earning a quick nod from you. Your face was now hurting real bad, burning from holding that wide grin for so long. 

"Sure! Haven't heard someone say that in years," you laughed softly. "But seriously, you-" 

Directing to the books he had, then at the little pieces of technology and gimmicks sitting next to them, you watched him smile at you. 

"You're from the future?! Like me? Oh my god! Jesus Christ god bless!" you whisper-screamed, "Amen, amen. I'm not even that hardcore, but AMEN!" 

He snorted and chuckled at your reaction. "Haha, indeed I am."

Shooting him one last smile, it faded slowly as you made your way to the bed, the muscles in your legs about to give in for a nice seat, but he raced over to you and tried to stop you with a distressed yell. 

"Wait- Don't sit on that!" 

You had only realized what you had done once your behind sat comfortably on a rock hard object? Hurting your tailbone badly, you shot up with pain and twisted your body around to find out just what the hell you sat on. Peeling and throwing away the thin blanket, you found a strange button-looking object. 

"Shit. Did I just press something that I wasn't supposed to?" you cringed with guilt plastered on your face. He waved his hands at you and lead you back a few steps. 

"Not really. Just kind of bothersome when it opens." he replied, directing your attention to the bed, or so you thought that it was, slide almost unnaturally forward, revealing what looked like a trapdoor underneath. You rose a brow and mouthed a 'wow'. The floor was vibrating from the movement, the constant hum of the machinery that allowed the motion to happen now numbing the bottom of your feet. 

Once it ceased to move, Mathew walked over to the square door and twisted the knob open, the light in the room casting a soft glow on the ladder that descended to a hidden chamber underneath. He ushered you to follow along, but before you did so you made sure to shut and lock the door. His wavy orange blonde hair peeked out of the secret entrance, obviously not going any down lower until he made sure that you would get there before he disappeared into the dark abyss. 

He stepped slowly down the ladder, with you following close after. 

The short journey eventually took you to an underground compartment, a spacious and mostly empty room with a couple of crates here and there. What really caught your eye was the old wooden desk sitting in the corner, the dimly lit room illuminated by one flickering light on the table therefore increasing its conspicuousness. Several maps roughly sketched on large portions of butcher's paper were scattered on it, the ends curling from lack of care. There were also a couple of random things, one of them being a small piece of flint and stone which you guessed was used for lighting fires. 

You were admiring it in silence, even awe-stricken. Flickering your eyes over the maps then over to the small box sitting on the paper to prevent it from curling up completely, you found a few things such as a small pocket knife, blunt at the edges suggesting frequent use and a pair of gloves. 

What was the fellow doing with all of this? 

"... Mathew." you turned to him, where he was standing right behind you. You stared into his eyes, the morose and tender look he held in them were longing for understanding. "How long have you been stuck here?" 

He flinched, then stared at his feet. How long did he stay here for? 

The only movement your eyes traced was the constant flickering of the lights, but that sequence was broken once he glanced back up at you. Smiling sadly, he let out a soft chuckle. 

"W-well! It- I had to think about that for a while." he started, his tone stuck in between humor and something else you couldn't quite put your finger on. "I-I... I don't know... But it has been at least five years."

His voice cracked when he said the number. 

Five years. 

In this primitive era. 

Your heart sank to the pit of your stomach. 

He looked like he was on the verge of breaking as well. The first time you met him was in the hallway; you thought of him as a quite skinny boy, but in an unhealthy way. He always had small bags handing under his eyes, some days larger then before. He always somehow appeared melancholic, as evident in his eyes... Like he was going to give up on something really, really important. 

Now everything added up, his hastiness and distance from everybody else. You've never seen him in group activities or dinners, but rather the rare occasions of bumping to each other in the hallway. 

Dwelling on the past for a moment, you then captured your gaze with his which had tears building up and glistened from the flickering of the lamp. He clenched his teeth but tried not to cry in front of you, but it was too much for him.

"Dude... You stayed here all these years? How could you survive? Like, mentally? That's amazing, but that's heartbreaking." you gulped. "Mattie..." 

The first few tears cascaded down his face, creating a trail behind. He ran over to you and engulfed you in a tight hug, his tight grip squeezing some air out of your arms. That was when he snapped, triggered by the nice scent that lingered on your body. You may have not known, but smells are highly associated with emotions, especially when you weren't coated with a heavy smell of salt, smoke, guns and beer. Bursting into tears, he screamed and hiccuped as he ranted on about the little things he hated about living here. 

Especially when the shirt you wore had a faint milkshake scent on it, a glass you made secretly on the Spanish ship. 

You worked your magic on his hair, stroking his soft locks comfortingly, your affection eventually bringing him to calm down to loud sniffs. You shut your eyes, noticing that there was an abnormal amount of warmth that had built up there. 

"Mattie... Don't cry now, I got your back, bro. We'll figure this out together-" You released him, where he still had his head sunken into his shoulder as if he was still enveloped in your assuring arms. Now gripping on his shoulder gently, he glanced at you slowly with reddened and puffy eyes. 

"But if we don't..." you huffed, lips pursed into a flat line. "We can still chat about football, right? Or hockey!" 

He instantly brightened at the word- hockey, not football. 

"I'd like that!" 

That sparked a conversation, about sport teams and previous games. This eventually led to random topics, like ice cream, maple syrup and then junk food. It was very enjoyable, now that you were having a 'normal' conversation with another 'normal' person. You both chatted on for what seemed like hours; the light finally burnt out, eliciting a high pitched scream from you. 

"Shit! Oops, sorry. I don't like the dark," you chuckled. "Race you to the top?" 

He laughed, his voice sounding much happier than he ever did. "Okay! Last one to the top is the rotten egg!" 

"What!? You say that? That's so funny!" you teased him, making him blush at your statement. 

"Whatever!" 

In the end, you both agreed to climb out in a civilized manner, since it would have been very dangerous to play around things like ladders. You both did end up racing each other to dinner though, which you won because you pushed him into a barrel. 

The rest could only watch in shock and amusement that you managed to open up such an introverted young fellow like him.