Title: Alone Together

Rating: R-13 for profanities

Characters: England, Belarus


"The voice so filled with nostalgia that you could almost see the memories floating through the blue smoke, memories not only of music and joy and youth, but perhaps, of dreams. They listened to the music, each hearing it in his own way, feeling relaxed and a part of the music, a part of each other, and almost a part of the world. " - Hubert Selby Jr.

...

"You don't have to forget."

"Mhmm…"

"But you have to move on."

"Yeah…"

She heaved a sigh, wanting to reach out and take his hands if only she could. 'If only she could.'
The only thought that has been keeping her trapped in this place for a while now.

Green eyes looked up to admire her. Platinum blonde hair that gleamed the slightest silver when hit by sun, her pale and smooth complexion kissed by a pair of pink petal lips, purple sets of orbs with the slightest streaks of cerulean in them. The way her petite body elegantly sat next to him, enough to look like a refined statue to be admired through ages and ages in a museum. A beauty that the world would certainly treasure eternally.

Then again, it wasn't exactly like this until he saw her under some holy light.

Their first meeting was… rough. He was walking at the park, and decided to take a sit for a while to take in the peaceful scene the place had to offer. It just so happens that she was there. Sitting on the other end of the bench and quietly reading a book regarding witchcraft to which he found absolutely overwhelming. His emerald eyes were glued on her, watching her read a book regarding his foremost hobby. It was simply irresistible not to strike a conversation for the Brit. A warm smile spread across his lips, clearing his throat which attracted her attention.

"Witchcraft and wizardry?" He grinned, being the kind gentleman that he is.
She raised a brow at him, cold, piercing lilac eyes shooting through him. "What's it to you?"
The boy blinked, taken aback by her sudden attack. Her rich voice laced with an eastern accent. Well, that certainly isn't the response he was expecting. He studied her features much closely for a while, having the feeling that she belonged out of place. Like she shouldn't be here in any way at all. There was a certain vibe around the girl that made him doubt if she was even any real.
"Excuse me?" Her voice resounded again, snapping him out of his delusion.
"Oh. I'm sorry." He chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. "It's rude to stare."
"Idiot. Someone's picking up." She scoffed, rolling her eyes at him.
Rude… It's something the Brit wouldn't easily set aside. "I said I'm sorry."
"Am I forced to accept that apology?"
"Well, no. Not really. But at least know that I am."
"I don't care." She hissed, tuning back to her book. "Even if you're sorry or not, you could not just force people to accept that."
"Lady, I am not forcing it. I am merely saying it."
"Yes, but you were expecting me to forgive you, aren't you? Like your stupid apology would make everything fine."
"What is wrong with you? What's the big deal?" He growled through gritted teeth, getting tired of her bitchy attitude.
"Mind your own damn business, eyebrows!"
Oh. Well, that certainly did it.
"Look, I'm trying to be a bloody gentleman here, but I don't have to for people who doesn't even deserve it especially towards a skunk like you."
"A gentleman?!" She scoffed, mocking him fearlessly. "Don't go ahead of yourself, you lousy Brit!"
"Bloody h—Oh! Is that how you play now, you Russian bitch?!"
"I'm Belorussian!"

The two hit off really wrong. They go along like oil and water, never meeting half-way at first. But at the end of the day, after all their bickering, he knew how alike they were after all. Their love for the occult, for isolation, their never bending pride, and on how they secretly longed for affection despite of pushing away everyone who comes near them. Why? Because both thought it was weakness. To ask for comfort and warmth. As if it was the most humiliating thing they could do all because of their stupid pride.

None the less, without any talking, he saw right through her. It might've took a little more time than it should, but he managed to do so. They were one of the same, and he understood her motives better than anyone else.

There really was neither an agreement nor contract, but the boy dropped by the exact same spot where they first met almost every day. And she would just be there, reading her book. Acting as if she was at peace on her own, but has already grown accustomed to her friend's presence the longer they have known each other. She would never admit it in front of anyone, but she was indeed waiting for him to meet her every day.

"How many times have you already read that book?" He asked her one day, head extending to sneak a peek at the literature.
"I don't know. Twenty? Thirty? Forty? Fifty times?"
"You can't be serious."
"What? It's my favorite book. And does it even matter?"
"I guess not…"

Some other times, he would just pass a 'Hi' and she would response with a 'hello' – and the world was quiet again. He sat there, watching the walkers who pass by them and sometimes reading a newspaper, while she hid her nose in her precious book and secretly listened to the soft sound of his breathing.

They didn't know each other too much. They were just two individuals visiting and finding serenity at the park, afterall. Bench neighbor, as they call it. And despite all their unspoken attachments, they still remained like strangers to each other. It didn't exactly make sense for them to be acquainted with each other. He knew she will leave soon, and she knew she'll leave him too. There's no use to learning names and hobbies and where they lived and what's their favorite food and music.

There's no use to being more than strangers.

"Hey. If you don't mind me asking… What's keeping you here?" It was getting dark that faithful day, and he refused to leave so soon. She was still a wonder he needed to discover, and he should know of all people that she was never, in any way, an open book.
"Me?" The girl looked up and watched him, baffled with the sudden question. Taking a deep breath, she removed her gaze from him and to the darkening skies. The stars would appear soon overhead. It was getting late. In through the nose, out through the mouth. He waited for her answer, as if it was the hardest question ever thrown at her. But he was patient.
"I don't know." The Slavic murmured, shrugging. "I guess… I just can't let go of some certain things from the past."
Ah. Another girl unable to break free from her history.
"It's not exactly easy, you know." A chuckle escaped her lips as she shook her head. "See, some people do ungrateful things to you. And they hurt you. Sometimes, you would never heal. You just lie there… Thinking about how things would be better if you never trusted them in the first place. How life would be… if you never met them and they never hurt you. It would be better, maybe. Or even worse. There are so much possibilities that could happen. But atleast, they never had the chance to hurt you.
It's hard. But I don't think anyone could ever understand. You wanted to escape, but there's no escape. It's just a constant reminder of them hurting you. You lose your sense of trust to everyone else. You can never see real people as they are like before. Now they're just these… machines who will break you if you get too close.
It's crazy. I'm crazy. I don't think I could ever let it go, what they have done to me. I would be lying if I said I never thirsted for their blood and for them to feel the hurt I've felt. And I would also be lying if I said I didn't want that right now.
This place… well, this park… It's been my ward."
He listened intently, every single word from the belle. Understanding life in her own shoes, walking the mile with her. She's been in awful lot, it was clear. And the lad could feel wary flow through his veins.
"Trust me, I want to escape. So, so much. But I can't yet. I just can't. There are so many things that are needed to be dealt with. There's just this… bitterness in my heart. True, I have travelled for miles already. But I always find myself here."
Emerald eyes watched her. The corners of her eyes getting a little moist, and a hand abruptly shot up to wipe them away out of sheer instincts. But she cringed away before he could even touch her. The belle was too precious, too fragile for anyone to handle.
With a sigh, he stuffed his hand back in his pocket and tried to mask his disappointment. "But listen…" The Brit spoke up, trying to gather her attention. "There are certain things that you could never help. Maybe it was them who hurt you, maybe it was life who is unfair. But… you have to remember that you could never sit around and hold in all the anger. It would poison you. At the end of the day, there would be no one who is more hurt than you if you'd stick by it. You could never forgive them, I understand that. They do not deserve any forgiveness. I know. But that doesn't mean you have to torture yourself with this feeling of constant bitterness and anger." He spoke every word slowly, and gently. Enough to reach the girl and actually listen to him for the first time over this delicate matter.
There was silence. He would have to enlighten her more if only she did not scoff and roll her eyes.
"What do you know? You're just a lost Brit trying to look like a gentleman and yet wanting all the isolation in the world which is why you escape here alone."
"What do I know? This Brit right here found out that isolation is much better if you spend it with someone." He laughed, looking up at the stars. "Alone together."
"Alone together…" She repeats quietly, contemplating over his words for a while before asking, "How about you, asshole? What's really keeping you here?"
Swiftly, the gentleman answered nonchalantly as if it was the easiest question in the world unlike to her. "You."

As suspected by the two of them from the very beginning, she would indeed leave someday. And that day was today.

"So, did you really find peace?"

"I did. And I thank you for that."

"You found it yourself. I did nothing."

"I would be stuck here for another century if you didn't help." She chuckled lightly to her joke, little by little learning to loosen up under his presence, to smile and laugh even on the slightest way.

"That's not funny." He states sternly, refusing to meet her gaze.

"I know."

"…"

"…"

"Where would you go now?"

"That's the stupidest question you have asked me yet. I knew you were stupid, but I never thought you were this stupid."

"I know."

"… well, if it will make you feel better, then I'd tell you that I'm not going anywhere."

"Yes, but you're leaving. And that's still somewhere even if you say it's not anywhere near or far."

She gave him a small smile before standing up from the bench, deciding to take him somewhere first before parting their ways. "Stand up."

"Why?"

"Just stand up, you moron."

Rolling his eyes, he eventually stood up whilst muttering something unnecessary under his breath.

"What was that?" Her purple eyes narrowed, sharp gaze locked at him.

"I said you're a bloody git."

"Good."

The rest of the very long walk was taken mostly in silence. With the belle leading the way and the Brit quietly following her, hands stuffed in his pocket and head hanging low. The mere idea of his isolation partner leaving after all this while is submerging him into a silent dismay. Just when he thought that he was ready for this from the start. Clearly, the most things that you prepare upon comes and hit you the hardest no matter how much you think you're ready.

"Here we are." Her voice called out, making him snap out of his depressed state for the littlest while and look at her in surprise after realizing where she's taking him.
"You can't be serious."
"But I am."
And just like that, she entered the gates of the cemetery which was set quietly on the outskirts of the town. It was a fairly long walk, but none of them did mind. It was their last time being together and he would willingly walk for miles and miles if it meant that he could still be with her. But that road would have to run out somewhere.

As usual, she walked with grace. Her purple dress and platinum blonde hair following her smoothly despite the place they are walking in. She was beautiful. Far too beautiful for this place. But still…

"Look."
The lad glanced up, and saw her nodding down – motioning him to take a peek. He hesitated for a while, knowing what was coming towards him but he did for her.

Before the two of them was an old tombstone. Sturdy enough to get through the intense heat of the sun or the coldest of the snow. It has a lot of scratches and cracks, and the bottom part of it is already covered in moss. But it was still standing strong despite the long years.
The name Natalya Arlovskaya was inscribed in big letters with the date 1972 – 1991 below it. A Cyrillic writing also carved; the translation of her name in Belorussian and the words "Light and love. We hope peace finds you." were also found on the tomb.

Natalya's eyes were watching him intently, giving him time before flashing a warm smile – the kind that she has never done before until now. The rarest one of all. The last one.
"I'm not going anywhere." She called out, her usually cold and frigid eyes were now warm and welcoming. "You would never be alone just as long as you keep me in your memories. I'll always be right where you need me."
Unable to hide it from her, the lad began sobbing. Hiding her face from the belle as if it would be any more of a use now while hot streams of tears ran down his cheeks and to the grass of her grave.
"Arthur…" She took small steps toward him. He didn't fight. He didn't run away. He stood there, waiting for her to touch him. "Alone together."
The Brit could feel her warmth in some ways wrap around him as he cried in her arms. Her soft lips pressed a kiss on her forehead for the last time. His arms reached out to hug her back, but found nothing more but the cold air blowing his direction.

And just like that, she was gone.

"Alone together…" He whispered back.