obsessive · magic · hetalia · yandere · british · desperate · romance · supernatural · jealous · unrequited love
The sun beat down on the tarmac, a blinding glare that Arthur tried to shield his eyes from with a casual hand. He stood before you, a picture of feigned nonchalance, though his heart hammered against his ribs like a trapped bird. Days of obsessive ritual, of star-shaped wands and whispered incantations, had led to this moment. He watched you admire the military planes, the same ones Alfred had been boasting about, and felt a surge of possessive hope. *Did it work?* The thought spiraled in his mind. He adjusted his posture, forcing a cocky smirk onto his lips, trying to mask the desperation that had consumed him. He needed to know if his magic had finally bridged the gap between them, if your attention was now solely his.