Title – Love the way you lie.
Summary – An AU UsxUk fic, based off the song 'I love the way you lie' by Eminem. It is NOT a song fic.
Warnings ( rated M for… ) – Yaoi, BL-ish, no smut (sadly), implied sex, violence, searing and adult themes.
Disclaimer - I do not own Hetalia, or the song 'I love the way you lie.' They both belong to their respective owners that are NOT me.
AN - Every time I heard this song this idea would come in my head and it got to the point where I just had to write it. It's a bit corny,I think, but I'm pretty happy with the end result! : D! This is a dark kinda fic though so yeah, be warned... I need to think of some happy fic for USxUK cause so far all my ideas for them have been like this fic! So sad and dramatic! lol!
ps. I used google translator for the french so if there are any mistakes there, let me know! ^^
Anyway, enjoy~
The house creaked as the wind blew fiercely outside. The light's were all turned off, letting the coolness of the nights air roam freely within the bland, almost boring, room… and yet the street light from outside seemed to stream through enough light for Arthur to see around the small bedroom.
"The inside of this house is so different from the outside…" the young blonde sighed as he tried to heave himself up, off the queen sized bed, and wincing every time the dried blood from a wound would ripped from his skin as it stuck tightly to the linen beneath him. He had managed to get in a few good swipes this time… he had actually won this round of their petty game, this time around, but that was only by luck, he knew that, so by the time the next round started, whenever that would be, his luck would probably have dried up and left him, and he's winning streak would end as he lost, yet again.
Frowning slightly at that thought, he sighed as he slowly got up and made his way to the connecting bathroom. Biting his lip, and furrowing his brows, as he passed by the other, still sleeping, occupant of his bed, he took a brief moment to glare, all of his hatred, towards the sleeping silhouette, before moving on, into the bathroom.
Alfred stirred as he awoke to the sound of running water. Turning over in the mess of tangled messy sheets he frowned as he let his hand reach up to cover his eyes, still not ready to face the dim light streaming through the window and onto the bed.
"Fuck!" he cursed as his free hand balled into a fist and smashed down on to the mattress below him creating a loud 'thump' like noise.
It had happened again. How had it happened again?
He had tried so hard this time to be nice, to be loving...
He had prepared the perfect night, he had cooked dinner and set the table with candles and roses …. In the background he had that classical music, that Arthur liked so much, playing… everything was perfect… and then… and then Arthur had come home. As he walked in through the front door and then, followed through, into the kitchen he, upon seeing the meal and the setting, merely scoffed before taking a seat at the table.
"My cooking is not good enough for you then?" Arthur had stated with a frown and Alfred couldn't help but reply with a snide: "What cooking? You can't call what you make food…" and that's when Arthur lost it… he began screaming at Alfred, yelling at him about all the little things he did wrong, all the things Arthur hated about him and then he had returned the gesture by yelling back and before they knew it Arthur's fist had made contact with his cheek…. And then another fight broke out between them. Alfred had pushed Arthur straight into a nearby wall as Arthur pulled at Alfred's hair before proceeding to bite, kick and scratch him. Alfred had pulled away from Arthur at that point and tried to shield himself but eventually he got sick of being attacked and decided to attack back by punching, his 'lover', in the stomach causing Arthur to cough and splutter as he slowly slide down the side of the wall…. And, instead of helping Arthur, Alfred had shamelessly gloated and smirked, throwing in a few kicks until Arthur swung his legs around, behind Alfred's, with a kick, and thrown the American off balance falling causing him to fall to the ground as he hit his head on the corner of the kitchen table. Arthur didn't bother to check if Alfred was okay as he got up off the floor and ran down the hall, slamming the door to their bedroom shut before frantically trying to lock it.
Alfred hadn't taken too kindly to that as he got up off the floor and pressed his fingers to the back of his head. He was bleeding and most likely had a concussion. However, over his years with Arthur, he had dealt with much worse, so instead of ending it there and going to get the first aid kit, Alfred, instead, stomped down the hallway and bashed on the door. He didn't care how much noise he made… the neighbours had long since given up on calling the police.
After ten minutes of bashing on the door with his fists and screaming at Arthur to; 'open the fucking door'… to which the other would only scream back obscenities that involved some very questionable physics and anatomy, Alfred took a few steps back before kicking in the door, the lock snapping off from the force as the wood splintered and the wooden door fell to the ground.
Arthur didn't seem too surprised, or worried, as the door practically caved in on its self, as he backed up against the wall, tightly grasping at one of Alfred's sporting trophies from high school, causing Alfred to smirk as he walked over towards Arthur.
"Come on Arthur, do you really think that's going to do anything, other than just put a few bruises on me?"
"God! You're so arrogant all the bloody time! It's fucking annoying!" Arthur hissed as he swiped the trophy at Alfred for good measure.
Alfred frowned as he snatched hold of Arthur's hand that was grasping the trophy, and without a second thought twisted it sharply, forcing Arthur to drop it almost instantly with a pained scream.
"And you act like a stuck up bitch. But you never hear me complain about you and your flaws! Do you? Fuck! Why can't you just say something fucking nice for once?" Alfred yelled loudly before throwing Arthur over the bed and into the metal headboard, which scratched heavily against the others back.
Screaming in pain as the metal cut long gashes into his skin, Arthur tried breathing slowly trying his best to distract himself from the pain. He winced as he felt the mattress below him dip down under Alfred's weight as the American climbed up on the bed. Closing his eyes and waiting for the worst to come, Arthur bit his lip as Alfred's hands grabbed hold of him and pulled him into a tight hug before he began to leave a trail of kisses over the others wounded back, as though trying to make up for what he had done in which made Arthur breath out a sigh of relief as he leaned into the others touch.
"There's something wrong with us, Alfred…" Arthur whispered out softly in the now all too quiet room.
"I know… I love you… you know that, right?" Alfred said a little too quickly as he looked Arthur in the eyes, worry etched all over his face.
"Yes, I know… I love you too, Alfred… I just get annoyed at you sometimes… I don't know why but I get so angry I just… I can't help it!"
"Same… you just… push all the right buttons to get me upset and then when I'm upset I just… I can't stop! Why is it like that! We love each other so why do we fight? Why do I feel like I hate you sometimes?" Alfred whined before nuzzling his face into the crook of Arthur's neck.
"I don't know Alfred! I don't know the answers to everything! God! I hate you too, sometimes." Arthur replied hotly, turning his face away from Alfred's.
"I want you…" Alfred said quietly which made Arthur sigh rather loudly.
"I want you too, idiot." Arthur stated with a pout, looking back into Alfred's light blue eyes and smiling.
Leaning forward, he placed an innocent kiss on the others lips…. Before deepening it, letting his tongue slide gracefully into Alfred's mouth, the two battling for dominance as their hands began to run over each other's bodies, clothes were removed and passions ran high as their bodies moved roughly against one another, causing them to moan and call out each other's names as they came….
And that was all Alfred could remember after that… his head was still sore, so he gathered that he had probably passed out straight afterwards. Sighing, rather loudly, he rolled over on his side and stared at the empty spot in the bed that Arthur had left. He looked at the little spots and patches of dark red blood and couldn't help but roll over onto his other side.
He didn't like what Arthur and himself did to one another… he couldn't even understand why he got so violently angry at the person he loved…. And he did love Arthur. There were days where he felt like a hero, like superman, and Arthur was his 'damsel in distresses, his Lois Lane, counting on him to rescue him. It was times like that that left him feeling happier than ever, his heart soaring, sky high, as his whole body relaxed as though life itself were nothing more than a dream.
These were times he felt so happy and loved, being with Arthur, and those times were the times he cherished… and yet… was so afraid of losing. Arthur was his everything… his love, his hate, his bully, his mentor, his family and his friend… and he wanted nothing more than to make Arthur happy…. But making Arthur happy was a very BIG task. The young man expected a lot from everyone and expected most from Alfred, and when Alfred failed to live up to those expectations Arthur got temperamental… and then that would make Alfred angry and frustrated… which led to Arthur being angry and frustrated… And then one of them would cool down first, after a violent fight, and then the other would closely follow, to also cool down, and by the end of it they couldn't even remember what they were fighting about.
Hearing the water, in the shower, come to an abrupt stop, Alfred sighed, yet again, as he slowly got up, out of bed and roamed around the bedroom, trying to find his boxers. Eventually, he found his patriotic boxers lying on top of the chest of drawers. Muttering something along the lines of 'what a good shot' he hoped on one foot as he put on his favourite red, white and blue boxers before walking over and standing beside the door to the bathroom which Arthur emerged from several minutes later, clean and dressed.
Alfred smiled happily as he let his arms slowly drape over the older man's shoulders.
"Morning…" he said quietly with a bit of uncertainty.
Arthur merely shrugged Alfred's arms off of him before walking into the middle of the bedroom.
"We need a new door." Was all he said before gracefully climbing over the wooden mess of a door now sprawled across the floor.
"I'll work on it…" Alfred began before adding "…honey…" sarcastically at the end, as soon as Arthur was out of ear shot.
"Francis… what are you doing here? If Alfred see's you here he'll go bloody bonkers!... Not to mention I'm not too fond of seeing you either!" Arthur hissed quietly, frowning as the Frenchman merely laughed casually as he invited himself into the house.
Growling at the other's random trespassing, Arthur had no choice but to close the door behind them and follow the other man into the lounge room.
"Oh! How quaint! What a lovely little village home you have… it's like a cabin or a cottage or something equally as small and working class~… why if only you had chosen to stay with me, mon chère." Francis laughed airily before whipping around and seating himself on the couch.
"Please Francis… I haven't got time for your idiotic chatter… it's the weekend and I was hoping to have a nice quiet one!" Arthur almost whined as he flopped down onto the couch, next to Francis.
"Mon dieu! Arthur! Your face! Why it's all black and blue… what happened?" the Frenchman fussed as he gently brought Arthurs face up close to his own so he could inspect the damage.
"It's fine! Alfred and I got into a bit of a tiff last night and I fell against the wall at one point… I must have hit my cheek… it's nothing..." Arthur stated firmly as Francis's eyes filled with even more worry than before.
"The Barbarian!" Francis shouted as he brought his arms around his English friend, hugging him tightly.
"Let go! Get off me! Bloody frog! ... I really need you to leave Francis! Alfred will be home any minute and he isn't exactly fond of you!"
"He isn't fond of me? How could he not be fond of moi~ I have been nothing but exceptionally kind to that young man!" Francis scoffed, letting go of Arthur only to cross his arms with a huff.
"Well you are fucking his brother."
"Absolutely beside the point!"
"And you and I used to fuck."
"Maybe a point, but still unfair! I have no feelings of lust towards you now… those feelings died after I fell in love with mon précieux, Matthew! You are nothing but an annoying, yet lovable friend, who I can count on for drinks… you are like family, mon ami." Francis sighed, his hands grasping at his chest, over his heart, as though he had just finished telling the most romantic poem of all time.
"That's all well and good for you, Francis, but it doesn't change the fact that you were my former lover before Alfred or the fact that you're screwing his brother…. Believe it or not, but I think he just doesn't trust you full stop and I can hardly argue with him there!" Arthur frowned as he got up off the couch. "Now, please leave!" Arthur instructed the other as he crossed his arms, scrunched his eyes closed and turned his head to the side, as though showing Francis that he was no longer going to talk to him.
"You can always leave, mon cher... run away from this… from him. There's nothing stopping you from leaving." Francis whispered, just loud enough for Arthur to hear him…
Arthur's eyes snapped open as he slowly turned his head to face him, his arms dropping to his side, as he simply stared at the other man.
Matthew gulped as he waited in Francis's car alone, hugging his white teddy bear close to his chest. He had seen the bruises and cuts on Arthur before… but Alfred always had them too. Francis was absolutely certain that Matthews beloved older brother was abusing Arthur… and that the marks on Alfred were just Arthur trying to defend himself. However, Matthew couldn't see it so simply. His brother has always gotten frustrated easily and yes, he had quite a temper on him, but he didn't bash people up… especially not the people he loved! When he was a kid he sometimes got a bit violent with the other kids, but that was in sports, it wasn't over an argument or name calling. Matthew was sure there was more to what was going on, inside of that terrible house, than what he or Francis were ever going to be aware of.
"Matthew! Oiiii! Matthew!" a voice called out, making the young blonde jump in surprise. Looking around for a bit, it took him a minute or so to spot the source of the noise. It was his brother Alfred, carrying what seemed to be a door, down the street and towards the driveway. Unbuckling his seatbelt, he slowly got out of the car and waved shyly back to his loud and obnoxious brother.
"A-A-Alfred… I didn't realise you were going to be back so early… when you said you were going to the hardware store I thought you would stay there for hours like you usually do… ahahaha…. What a lovely surprise that y-you're back early." Matthew stuttered softly as he moved anxiously from one foot to the next.
"Yeah, I thought it would be best to get home and fix the door before Mr Angry-Pants blows a head gasket. So, what are you doing here?" Alfred smiled warmly, making Matthew's stomach churn with guilt.
"Ummm, I just came over… alone… to… um… see how you were doing… so… ah… hi!" Matthew staggered before putting on his best fake smile.
"You came here alone, huh…. Why did you just hop out of the passenger's seat then?"
"W-W-What? Ahhhh, I just…. Um… er…" Matthew stumbled for the right words.
"Where is he?" Alfred asked with a deadly still tone.
"Inside, he wanted to talk to Arthur…. I just… it… is your lip split? It's cut and you've got a bruise… Alfred what happened?" The younger of the two fretted as he leaned up to get a better look.
"Nice try, I never thought you'd be so deceptive…. A trait you learnt from him no doubt." Alfred said dryly.
"Alfred, please… Francis isn't like that!"
"How can you even trust him? He's probably got his grimy little hands all over Arthur right now!" Alfred yelled as his anger rose.
"What? N-No he wouldn't! I told you! Francis isn't like that!" Matthew shouted, although it only came across at normal speaking volume.
"Matthew! Don't get involved in this! This isn't any of your business! Now stay here!" Alfred ordered before stomping his way down the driveway, the new bedroom door still under his arm, leaving Matthew to sob silently by the car.
"What are you saying frog? You think that I'm some little girl who's getting fucking abused by her partner? I'm a guy! He's a guy! We get into fights sometimes, it's normal!" Arthur screeched as he pulled Francis up off the couch by the front of his shirt.
"I am sorry, mon ami, but that is NOT normal. It is never normal to hurt the one you love no matter if you're a boy, girl or something in-between! I would never raise my hand to Matthew let alone hit him… did I ever raise my hand to you when we were together?" Francis asked with piercing eyes, making Arthur bite at his bottom lip anxiously.
"N-No…" Arthur whimpered as his grip loosened on Francis's shirt as his hands came up to his eyes, rubbing fiercely at them to try and stop the tears from falling.
Francis sighed as he brought his arms around Arthur and held him close.
"…but I love him…" Arthur cried into his old friends shirt.
"I know, mon cher, but this kind of relationship… the way things are now, between you,… it's not healthy…. Not for you…. Or him." Francis sighed as he ran his hands through Arthur's hair.
"Where will I go?" the, now seemingly smaller, Englishman mumbled with a sniffle before he began to cry again, once more.
"Come stay with Matthew and I. You can stay with us for as long as you need and-" Francis began but was cut short as Arthur butted in with a loud and resounding: "No. …He would find me instantly and I would just end up back in his arms again…"
Arthur couldn't believe he was even thinking about this… about leaving Alfred. The idea had never even crossed his mind before this, not once! And yet, the more he talked about it the more and more it began to sound like a good plan.
"How about your brothers then? I know you and them are not on the best of terms, but I'm sure they would take you in…. especially if you explained the situation to them." Francis tried and smiled as Arthur's eyes brightened somewhat.
"Maybe… even if they said no I could still barge in and make camp on their couch until I find a place of my own…" Arthur said thoughtfully with another sniffle as he rubbed some more tears from his eyes.
"Matthew! Oiiii! Matthew!"
"That was Alfred's voice… you have to go! Now!" Arthur instructed, yet Francis remained still.
"Please! I'm not joking! It will only be a matter of time before he figures out you're here!" Arthur implored as he began to nudge Francis in the direction of the door, only to have the Frenchman dig his heels into the ground.
"Tell me you'll leave him. Tell me you'll run away from this!" Francis pressed making Arthur run his hands over his face in frustration.
"I'll think about it! Now go!" Arthur frowned as Francis smiled at him before moving towards the door on his own accord… only to have it open in front of him.
"Francis." Alfred greeted with a strained smile.
"Alfred." Francis replied coolly as he stepped to the side to let Alfred into the house.
"Matthew didn't tell me you were coming over for a visit, what an unexpected surprise… what are you doing here, anyway?" Alfred asked as his eyebrow twitched slightly in annoyance and anger.
"Just visiting an old friend. No harm in that, oui monsieur?" Francis said lightly with a smirk.
"Of course not… however, it is a bit rude to visit someone else's lover while they're not home, isn't it?"
"No, I think that's quite fine, since you do that with my lover quite often."
"Hey! That's not fair! He's my brother, you bloody French frog!" Alfred yelled like a child having a temper tantrum causing Francis to smirk even more.
"By the way, Alfred, however did you get that cut on your lip?"
"Arthur is a bit rough in bed… but of course you'd already know that, wouldn't you?" Alfred said with malice making Francis frown, quite considerably.
"Enough with the pissing contest! Fuck! Francis. Leave! Alfred come inside and put that bloody door down! I'm sick of the both of you!" Arthur cried out in frustration, glaring at the both of them before turning around and marching down the hallway and into the bedroom. The fact that he had no door to slam seemed to annoy him further as he flopped down onto the bed, put his face in his pillow and screamed as loud as he could.
"I think that's your cue to leave, Francis." Alfred hissed causing Frances to stick his nose in the air, 'hmph' and then walk out of the house and down the driveway.
"Good. Fucking. Riddens!" Alfred yelled as he slammed the front door shut.
"Francis… are you okay?" Matthew asked worriedly as he ran up to the older man, embracing him with a tight hug.
"But of course, mon amour." The Frenchman answered with a soft smile as he lightly kissed the others forehead.
Matthew grinned happily at the other before he heard yelling coming from inside the house.
"Maybe we should get going…" the younger blonde said as he nibbled anxiously on his bottom lip.
"Just, wait a moment, mon amour…" Francis instructed as he listened closely to the yelling coming from inside the house.
"WHY DIDN'T YOU FUCKING CALL ME AS SOON AS HE GOT HERE?"
"WHAT? HE ONLY GOT HERE FIVE MINUTES BEFORE YOU DID! I DIDN'T HAVE THE CHANCE TO CALL! AND EVEN IF I DID HOW COULD I EVEN CALL YOU WHEN YOU'RE PHONES RIGHT THERE!"
"WELL I DON'T KNOW! YOU SHOULD HAVE CALLED THE HARDWARE STORE!"
"ARE YOU A LUNATIC? IF I CALLED TH-"
"OH GREATN NOW I'M A LUNATIC!"
"I DIDN'T SAY YOU WERE ONE I JUST ASKED IF YOU WERE ONE…. AND SINCE YOU DIDN'T ANSWER I'M GOING TO TAKE THAT AS A YES!"
"OH! WELL! AREN'T YOU CLEVER! YOU SHOULD BE THANKFUL THAT I WENT AND GOT US A NEW FUCKING DOOR! CAUSE GOD KNOWS YOU'RE NOT GONNA FIX IT!"
"WELL IF SOMEONE DIDN'T BRAKE THE DOOR THEN MAYBE WE WOULDN'T NEED A NEW ONE! IT'S NOT LIKE WE HAVE THE MONEY TO JUST GO KICKING DOWN DOORS WHENEVER WE FEEL LIKE IT!"
"DON'T YOU DARE TALK TO ME ABOUT MONEY, ARTHUR!"
"WHY THE BLOODY HELL CAN'T I?"
"I DON'T KNOW… MAYBE BECAUSE IF SOMEONE DECIDED TO BE A REAL CRITIQUE AND NOT WRITE REVIEW'S ON FUCKIN' CHILDRENS BOOKS AND FAIRY TALES ALL FRIGGIN' DAY THEN MAYBE WE WOULD HAVE SOME EXTRA CASH!"
"HA! AND WHAT ABOUT YOU MISTER 'I'M A BLOODY FACTORY WORKER'!"
"WELL IT'S A HELL OF A LOT BETTER THAN HARDLY GETTING ANY WORK EACH WEEK!"
"WELL AT LEAST I DO SOMETHING WITH MORE BRAINS THAN A SIMPLE BUTTON PUSHER!"
BANG!
"OH THAT'S JUST GREAT ALFRED! BRAKE THE NEW DOOR! NOW WE'RE OUT ANOTHER HUNDRED DOLLARS!"
Francis sighed as the fight seemed to quieten after that.
"Please, can we just go home?" Matthew asked, his eyes tearing up for, not only his brother, but one of his long time friends too.
"Désolé, Je suis désolé, Matthew." Francis sighed as he took hold of Matthews hand and led him around to the passenger's side of the car, opening the door for the younger man.
"Merci." Matthew whispered as he hopped into the car, his mind still focusing on just what was going on in that house.
It was a few days later when Arthur woke up in his bed, next to a sleeping soundly Alfred, in the early hours of the morning, covered in bruises and cuts, as his eyes teared up.
Looking over at the wall next to the bed, he stared at Alfred's blood smeared over the wall and, on the ground, was a broken mirror with some blood still shimmering on top of the broken glass.
This wasn't working.
It wasn't working for him or for Alfred. He wasn't the only one getting hurt and it was time for him to take responsibility for that… he had to leave. Last night had proved that to him, more than any time before...
Arthur hadn't had any work for the last two day's so he had decided to clean the house in order to make Alfred happy and show him that he actually did something around the house when he didn't have work. Yet… when Alfred came home he had said work had been tough and he was tired and he just wanted to rest, thus, he took his shoes off, sat down on the couch ,rested his feet on the coffee table in front of him…. The coffee table that Arthur had spent half an hour washing and varnishing and dusting. To say Arthur was not impressed would be an understatement. Turning on the tv, Alfred frowned as he realised that something was missing.
"Oi, Arthur, get me a beer, would you? Oh! And call that pizza place I like and order something, I'm starving."
Arthur gritted his teeth before walking around the couch and sitting down with a huff.
"I'm not your servant, get it yourself!" Arthur stated angrily before crossing his arms and legs.
"What the hell? I've been at work all day! Is it so much to ask someone for a fucking beer and a phone call for food… that we will both eat…. Off my pay-check, I might add!" The American fired back.
"Fuck your pay-check! I spent the whole day cleaning the house so you could come back to something that didn't resemble a PIGSTYE!" Arthur finished off with a yell, his hands balling up into tight little fists as his knuckles began to turn white.
"Oh! I'm sorry, was it really that hard to pick up some dirty clothes? Well, excuuuuuuse me PRINCESS!"
"Fuck you! I hate it here! I should have just gone back with Francis when I had the chance!" Arthur screamed.
The room went silent and Arthur automatically knew he had said the wrong thing.
Alfred stood up and walked over to him until he was standing straight in front of his so called lover. And then it all went to quickly… Arthur felt a harsh tug on his shirt and the next thing he knew he was flying across the room and into the heater. Hissing in pain as the hot grill of the heater burned into the palm of his hand. He could feel his skin bubbling as he was forced to press against the grill in order to push himself off the heater itself, had he just taken away his hand his face would have fallen onto the hot grill and been burned as well.
"Fuck, Alfred! You fucking nearly burnt my hand off!" Arthur screeched loudly only to be met with a kick to his ribs.
"Where is Francis now? Huh? He's not here to save you! He's not here to try and fucking help you is he?" Alfred sneered before picking Arthur up off the ground only to slam him back down on the hard wooden floor once more.
Arthur screamed out in pain as his ribs, that had just been kicked, hit the hard wood floor.
"You still wanna be with Francis?"
"Y-yes! Better than being with you, you childish brat!" Arthur spat out only to gasp in pain as Alfred's hands clasped around his neck and began to tighten.
"A-Alfred… I can't…. I can't breathe!" Arthur gasped out only to have Alfred's grip tighten further.
And for the first time in his life with Alfred, Arthur was actually scared for his life, scared that he would die with Alfred's hands clasped around his neck. So, with the last bit of strength he had he whispered out his final words to Alfred.
"I… - you…" and in that moment… neither him, nor Alfred, were sure if he said 'hate' or 'love'.
Slowly, Alfred's hands came loose and fell to the sides of Arthur's neck as Arthur began to gasp for breath before coughing roughly.
For a minute or so there was silence except for the small choked coughs coming out of Arthurs mouth… however the cough's began to die and were replaced, instead, by a heavy silence.
"Arthur, I-" Alfred began but stopped as Arthur got up from underneath Alfred and walked away.
"Arthur! Stop! I'm sorry, alright! I didn't mean to… I just lost it when you started talking about Francis and I… I didn't mean it…." Alfred cried out as he got up off the ground and followed Arthur into their bedroom.
"Arthur! Will you just listen to me for a sec! God, I should have held on longer." The younger blonde muttered only to receive a sharp slap in the face, making him fall back into the wall nearest to the bed, his hand bashing against a mirror that shattered around his flesh.
"Shit!" Alfred cursed as he applied pressure to the cut on his hand.
Arthur bit his lip, his eyes close to tears as he looked away from Alfred and crawled into bed.
It wasn't even half an hour later when Alfred came back, hand bandaged and smelling of antiseptic. He climbed into bed beside him, without a word, and shuffled closely into Arthur, hugging him tightly as he rested his head against the others neck, giving it a small kiss before he slowly dozed off.
He had almost died that night… and the pained look on Alfred's face after he slapped him… was a sign that Alfred was hurting too. Arthur needed to leave … tonight… now… before Alfred woke up.
Slowly, Arthur got out of the bed and tiptoed as quietly as he could over to the wardrobe. Pulling out an old, relatively small, suitcase, and began to pack random clothes and memorabilia into it, quietly, before zipping it up as soundlessly as possible. Staying still for a moment or so, Arthur watched as Alfred continued to sleep with a soft snore, his arms and legs shuffling as he tried to get comfortable again. Smiling at the sleeping blonde, Arthur had to force himself to look away as he walked over to his bed side table, which held a small draw in it. Opening the draw slowly he peered inside and instantly found what he was looking for, his phone, his wallet and his passport. Pulling the said items out of the draw Arthur let them slide into his pocket before standing up and taking hold of his luggage.
Now all he had to do was make a decision…. The door… or the window? It was a hard decision to make since the new door, Alfred had put in, had a very loud squeak to it, which Alfred had promised to fix. The window however was silent yet more awkward to get jump out of… however he would be outside and there for able to run for it afterwards. Thinking this, he decided to escape through the window, it was soundless and it was on his side of the bed so it wouldn't be too close for him to accidentally brush up against Alfred and wake him… And with that the decision was made. Opening up the window, he put his foot up against the window pane and then proceeded to lift himself up. Balancing for a moment on the ledge, he reached over for his luggage but was surprised to find a hand clasping around his wrist.
"Where are you going?" Alfred frowned as he looked back and forth between Arthur and his luggage.
"I'm leaving you." Arthur answered simply causing Alfred's eyes to narrow, his mouth quickly turning downwards into a an unimpressed frown.
"No you ain't!" Alfred yelled and yanked back on Arthur's wrist causing him to fall to the ground. Frowning, even further, Alfred turned on the bedside lamp and looked down at Arthur and the passport that had just dropped out of his pocket.
"Alfred, I'm leaving, I'm sorry but I can't handle this anymore." Arthur said roughly, as he stood up from the ground, gently brushing himself off as his eyes focused souly on the floor, not daring to look Alfred in the eye.
"Look, I know we said things and did things we didn't mean… but we can change that Arthur! If we really put some effort into it I believe things will change! I love you and I promise not to hit you anymore… I won't even fight with you… so please, don't do this!" Alfred pleaded his eyes beginning to tear.
Arthur's eyes moved upwards, finally, as he glared into Alfred's light blue eyes.
"You haven't changed. I haven't changed. NOTHING has changed. In the beginning of this relationship we broke up constantly and every time you claimed the same thing, that we'd change that we'd try harder and that everything would be okay… but we've been together for 5 years now and nothing has changed!" Arthur screamed out in frustration ripping his eyes away from Alfred's.
"But you're the same too, Arthur! You haven't changed either! You're just the same as me! You're just as in love with me as I am with you! And you're just as hateful, Arthur!" Alfred cried as he grabbed hold of Arthur's sleeve. Arthur looked up at Alfred and bit his lip as he tried his best not to give into those puppy dog eyes.
"Please don't leave, it was me! It was all my fault! And… maybe our relationship isn't as crazy as it seems…. … maybe that's what love is, Arthur…. Being together through the good and the bad…I mean… All I know is that I love you too much to walk away now! To walk away from this! From you!" Alfred cried as he pulled and tugged at Arthurs sleeve with every word he spoke. After a moment or two of crying Alfred looked back down to Arthur and smiled as Arthur's eyes welled up with tears.
"Come here, put your bags away and come back to bed…" Alfred said softly as his hand's slowly let go of Arthur's shirt and took hold of his hand instead before he sat down on the side of the bed.
Arthur simply looked helplessly between his luggage, the window, and Alfred.
Alfred waited for a few minutes more, but Arthur didn't move or say anything.
"I said I was sorry, come to back to bed, Arthur." Alfred said with a smile, however this time it sounded a bit more forced and Arthur noticed Alfred's grip on his hand was getting even tighter…. Just like it did when his hands were around his neck.
Arthur continued to stay still and silent.
"Didn't you hear me before? I was being sincere, dammit! Listen to me Arthur, next time I'm upset I'll hit the fucking wall, okay? Next time… there won't be a next time, I promise! Please, I'm sorry!" Alfred pleaded, yet finishing the sentence off in his head; 'Even though it's not my fault… I'll take responsibility because that's what a hero does. Fuck, I just want him back! Please, Arthur, please come back! '
Arthur's shoulders dropped as he sighed and took a step forward towards Alfred and the bed, followed by another step, and another slightly smaller step before he reached the edge of the bed. Looking down at Alfred he smiled as his tears now flowed freely down his cheeks.
"Okay… but this time it's going to be different! This time we won't hurt each other anymore, okay?" Arthur demanded with a sniffled into the crook of Alfred's neck.
"Yes, of course, Artie… Just stay!"
"Ha, you haven't called me that in years…" Arthur chuckled before leaning in for a kiss.
"I'll stay with you." He whispered before placing his lips against Alfred's own.
"Good!" Alfred mumbled into the kiss before continuing the sentence in his head...
'And if you ever try to fucking leave again, I'm going to tie you to the bed and set this house on fire.'
Arthur cried out in pain and fear as he struggled against the rope Alfred had tied his wrists to the bed's metal headboard with. The rope burned against his skin with every pull and twist, and yet, none of that mattered to Arthur, he was much more worried about the fire that had been lit in the other rooms to worry about rope burn.
It had been barely a month since their resolution to stop physically fighting… and yet one and a half weeks later Alfred had managed to hit him several times… after a couple of day's they were back in the same violent routine as before… and that's when Arthur snapped and decided to try and run away again… and he was caught, again… and that was when Alfred had lost it.
"HELP! SOMEBODY HELP!" Arthur screamed again as he tried to kick and wriggle his way out of the tight knotted ropes around his ankles and wrists.
"I'm sorry Arthur…. I just can't have you leaving me." Alfred whimpered as he put the fuel can down on the floor before kicking it over, letting the fuel run down into the bedroom, slowly making its way around the bed…. around Arthur.
And in that moment Arthur decided that knew he was going to die…. That it was all over, there was no chance of running and no chance of living… he was going to die… and there was Alfred, standing in the door way looking like an innocent, yet lost child, looking like he was the victim in all this.
Sighing at his younger lover, Arthur cocked his head up slightly.
"Are you just going to stand there and watch me burn? It's okay… I kind of like it… if it's like this. Now, come here, you idiot!" Arthur ordered, but with a small quirk of his lips.
Alfred smiled back at him in return and made his way over to the bed and sat down on it, next to Arthur's side.
"It won't be long until it makes its way in here Alfie… untie me?"
Alfred pouted as he brought his knees up to his chest and pulled his arms over his legs.
"No… you'll just try to run away again."
"Alfred… the house is on fire and you're here to stop me if I try to run, but I assure you I will not leave… so trust me, okay?"
"…Okay." Alfred mumbled, as though sure that the other would run almost instantly.
Sighing a sigh of relief as his legs were untied, followed by his wrists, Arthur sat up and stretched before making his way over to Alfred on the bed. Coming up behind the young American, Arthur smiled lovingly as he let his arms slide around Alfred's well built body before hugging him tightly from behind.
"I love you… you know that right?"
"Why? After all I've done… after all that's happened… I lied to you… I wasn't going to change! I couldn't! I knew that and yet I still promised!" Alfred yelled in anger, more at himself than Arthur.
"I know Alfred, I know you lied… but it's okay… because I love everything about you… even the lies, even the hurt, even the pain… I can live with it all, but I can't live without you… I was a fool to think that I could… and so…. that's why I'm staying here now, Alfred… I'm not going to leave you again." Arthur laughed as he grabbed hold of Alfred's chin and turned his face back slightly so that Arthur could kiss him innocently on the lips.
They stayed there for a minute or two before Arthur could see the fire in the corner of his eye.
Breaking the kiss apart, Alfred turned around, completely, and threw himself into Arthur's arms.
And as the fire quickly engulfed the room, and the flames licked at bed beneath them,, Alfred couldn't help but cry as he brought his face back up to Arthur's… staring the other in the eyes.
"I'm sorry, Arthur! I'm so, so sorry!" Alfred cried as the flames began to make their way up on to their skin, slowly eating away at their flesh, yet Arthur couldn't help but smile.
"I love the way you lie Alfred… I love the way you lie."
End.