Why?
Alfred smiled faintly to himself as he walked up the ice covered sidewalk, a wind whipped through his steadily growing dirty blond hair, seeming to chill his very bones. He shivered and walked at a faster pace in order to get to the warmth and Arthur faster, he closed his eyes briefly with the blissful memory of nearly a moth ago. He shakily took out his key to open the door as he nearly laughed at the memory, his heart giving a leap as he closed the door to the cold and snow behind him. Alfred hung his jacket on the rack next to the door, and peered around the corner looking into the main room of his house expecting to see Arthur curled up in some obscure place reading, or asleep with the book in his lap. He frowned slightly with dismay as the room was empty, "Arthur...?" He called into the slowly warming house, he bit his lip slightly wondering silently to himself if his love could possibly be sick, or out looking for Christmas gifts. He walked the length of the house, seeing snip-its of the growing blizzard outside. He gave a faint knock on his bedroom door wishing for the older Country to be sleeping inside, "Arthur...?" He asked quietly and opened the door, his heart dropping into the pit of his stomach.
Arthur was sitting against the wall on the bed, hugging his knees to his chest with his back to the door. As Alfred fell silent he could hear Arthur mumbling to himself, not seeming to notice that the American had entered the darkened room. "A-Arthur...?" He stammered slightly, carefully walking to the side of the bed that he was facing. Once he was closer, he could see the glint of and object being dragged across his lover's wrist. Alfred nearly stepped backwards in disbelief, "N-no..." he was suddenly at Arthur's side, pulling the knife from his weak grip. Alfred shakily wrapped his hand around Arthur's wrist, keeping the pressure must of hurt like Hell but Arthur did not show it. The American forcefully swallowed his emotions, and got strait to the point, "Arthur Kirkland..." he asked, his voice clearly shaking from the strain of holding back tears, he wished to get his attention, which looked to be far away, "What..." He trailed off, 'What what!' he though harshly to himself, causing him to shake even more. "Why...?" he restated his question, "Why...hurt yourself...hurt me..." He closed his eyes and pulled Arthur close to him, "A-answer me y-you idiot."
The Brit fell into Alfred's lap with a burst of sobs and violent shaking, "I-I'm s-so-sor-ry..." He stammered weakly. Clearly beaten down by something. Alfred felt like throwing up at the sight of the string country once again on his knees, reduced to nothing more than a mere shadow of what he was at the height of his time. Arthur pushed the younger Country back onto the bed, still sobbing into his stomach, one side of his head pressed into him, "S-sorry...sorry..." was all he said to Alfred's pleas for explanation.
They both fell silent after a while, Arthur's sobs still seeming to echo throughout the house, "Arthur...?" Alfred asked quietly, "Can I si-"
"No!" he replied harshly, curling slightly more into Alfred his eyes closed as he forced himself to hold back tears. Alfred gently rubbed Arthur's back, shushing him just before Arthur spoke, "I-I l-love th-the sound of y-your h-heartb-beat..." He stammered, his voice cracking slightly as he buried his face into him and eventually fell asleep.
"Alfred...why did you bring me here...?" Arthur asked, seemingly annoyed with the sudden 'Dude! Come to my place, I have something to show you!' He blinked a few times as his old friend pushed him onto a couch and sat next to him, he was holding a dusty photo album to his chest and held it our for Arthur to take. He gave the younger a strange look and opened the leather bound book to the first page. In the center of the page was a black and white photograph of the two of them. Arthur himself looked like he was in Hell with Alfred's arm around his shoulder, his hand behind the older country's head, making what looked to be the British way of flipping the bird, but he knew better to be an American custom in which he was suppose to look like a 'rabbit.' The Englishman sighed slightly and smiled at the memory just before the war, they were happy. He remembered that with a sad smile. This single picture brought back such memories in which they were not fighting, no bickering, just a friendship that they hoped to last forever. Arthur had thought that the war with the American on his side would bring them closer, but when he was nearly killed Alfred had done everything to be 'The Hero' for his Nation to survive. His friendship with Alfred vanished as the scars and wound on the American's back filled his place. They didn't speak much afterword, and Alfred suddenly became involved in things such as movies or new wars.
Arthur stared at the page, and closed it, for he knew the next page would be filled with war pictures. He suddenly closed the book, making Alfred jump, Arthur immediately regret declining his gift for the look on his old friend's face. "Sorry..." He mumbled, looking away as Alfred took the book and laid it on the coffee table, looking back to the Englishman sadly. "I just..." Arthur trailed off, closng his eyes at the memories.
"Didn't want to watch our friendship fade again...?" Alfred finished for him, a hopeful tone in his shaky voice. He inched closer to Arthur, starting to reach out for his hand but pulled away, as if having second thoughts.
Arthur nodded, "I...can...can we go back to the way things...were...before...?" He asked, smiling weakly, "Can...can we be friends...?" He asked hopefully, his only friend being Kiku, Arthur wanting more allies he could rely on.
Alfred nodded, "Of course...Arthur..." He told him, leaning in closer to which the Brit froze and watched Alfred carefully. "but..." Alfred continued and leaned in closer, pressing his lips to the Englishman's. Arthur tensed in complete shock, but leaned into Alfred and chased him slightly when he pulled away, whispering, "How about...more than...friends...?"
Arthur's heart raced as his face turned bright red, his breathing quickened at the sudden arousal and he nodded unable to say a word. "I-I..." was all he managed to stammer just before being chocked to death by a sudden hug from Alfred.
"You...were always...adorable...when you...were confused..." he laughed weakly as Arthur let him press his back to the couch, cuddling in his chest. "Haven't...changed..." he whispered into his ear, leaning forward and pressing his lips to his cheek briefly before cuddling into his shoulder.
"I...I was...a-am...?" He stammered pathetically, pressing into him as well just before a horrific thought struck him, "Oh dammit...What if Francis finds out...?" He shivered at the thought, his older brother would be relentless, he knew.
Alfred laughed weakly, and hugged him tighter pressing his lips to his neck, and Arthur relaxed into him with a smile. "Things...are going a bit fast..." He mumbled, his eyes closed.
Alfred pulled Arthur closer, "So what...?" He asked, "I...I've really missed you..."
~A~
Quick side note:
If you liked how I started this, please favorite and watch for updates, I really like where I am going with this story so far, so if you like angsty romances with lemons later on...well, let's just say this is more than a oneshot.
I want to apologize for posting the wrong document under this name, the other fanfic you may of read will be posted later once revised.
~Rena~