A/N: I do not, nor will I ever own Hetalia.
In the darkness, somebody coughed distressingly loudly, stirring me from my fitful sleep. I sat up, my body aching and weak, struggling to recall the events of last night. What had I done? Why was I naked, covered in bite marks and laying on the cold, hard floor, barely covered by a thin sheet?
I looked around me wildly, confused and apparently expecting to see something in the pitch black. Who else is in the room with me? Why am I here?! The darkness offered no answers, and so I stood up, holding the sheet around my waist to try and preserve some dignity. I had a pounding headache, and the room spun dangerously.
I stumbled over to a window that was letting through a thin sliver of a light, and I drew the curtains in an attempt to establish when it was. The what and the why would have to wait for later. The cold, piercing light of the morning came streaming in through the small window, forcing me to shield my eyes. Briskly I started to close the curtains. That was when I happened glanced down at my left arm and saw them.
Needle marks. At least six of them.
It was with a dreadful sense of horror the realisation hit me. Closing my eyes, and taking a deep breath, I slowly closed the curtains and turned away from the window. How could I do this to myself again? I thought I was recovering. My situation told me otherwise.
I sunk down to the floor, sitting against the wall with my head in my hands with an ever growing sense of despair. The last time...fuck, the sadness in his eyes and the relief and happiness in them when I swore I wouldn't do it again. My dazed and fragile mind asked an important question: who was I with last night? I lifted my head, and saw a curled up lump on the floor who I supposed was another person.
Suddenly, the lump coughed again. It was a violent cough...a horrible, sickening noise that makes one look away and grimace. Then I remembered who I was with, what we had taken and what we had done.
The lump slowly and shakily sat up, revealing himself to be Yao. He was hunched over, coughing.
I remembered that he had taken opium, while I had heroin...which throughly and accusingly explained the needle marks. I failed him. I failed Alfred.
Standing up, fighting the unsteadiness of my legs and ignoring the sinking feeling in my stomach, I felt the need to check on my Chinese friend and make certain that he was okay.
"Yao, are you alright?" I asked as I walked over to him, still clutching the soiled-from what, I don't know and nor do I want to- sheet around my waist.
"S-ShÃ..." came the quiet, raspy and slightly accented reply. "And you okay, Ivan?" Yao questioned, looking at me with large amber eyes that held no happiness, no joy and no hope whatsoever for the future. I knelt down beside my broken companion and I nodded, not bring entirely truthful. He had enough to worry about as it was.
"Da, I'm fine...I've been worse." I draped an arm over his shoulders in an attempt to comfort him, careful not to put too much weight on Yao's frail body.
"Yao-Yao...I'm sorry," I said, looking down in shame for what I'd done to Alfred, what I had become.
Yao rested his head on my broad shoulders and said, "No, Ivan. It's not your fault, aru. I shouldn't have invited you over...we both know how much damage we can cause each other, aru."
He was right, as much as I hated to admit it. Yao and I were each other's worst enemy, and we each brought the other's weaknesses out.
"Even so, I should've had the self discipline to refrain from taking it again," I said, sighing and looking down at the ground. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see an empty hypo lying on the ground a few feet to my right.
Swallowing, I immediately averted my gaze. I'd gotten myself addicted again and betrayed the love of my life, the one person who had seen me at my worst and bully trusted me when I said that I would never let myself become addicted again. I don't deserve him. I never did.
I needed to get home. "Yao, what day is it?" I asked, praying it was the weekend. That way Alfred wouldn't be at work, and I hadn't missed a day of mine.
"Saturday, I think, aru," The Chinese man replied. He sighed. "You should probably get home to Alfred..."
I nodded, standing up and looking breifly around the room for my clothes. Finding them lying in a heap in the corner of the room, I quickly dressed myself, wrapping my treasured scarf around my scarred and bite-marked neck and putting on my heavy coat. I waked back over to Yao, and I gave him a quick kiss on the cheek.
"Bye, Yao-Yao. I'll see you..next time."
"Goodbye, Ivan..." he muttered, pulling the sheets closer around his weak body and looking up at me. "I hope for your sake there isn't a next time, aru."
And with that, I left.
As soon as I stepped out of the apartment, I realised just how early in the morning it was. There were barely any cars on the road, it was freezing cold and foggy, and my breath was visible. I was thankful for the time of day though, because my headache would've been a hell of a lot worse if it were hot and there was bustling traffic.
Looking around briefly, I tried to remember the direction of the apartment I shared with Alfred. It took me a while, to say the least, but I figured it out eventually.
I started walking. I felt horrendously nervous. My sunflower would be so disappointed in me. He would probably hate me, which is fully understandable. I hate me too. I shook the terrifying thoughts from my head for the time being and walked a little faster.
After roughly five minutes, I reached the building. I fished about in my pocket for my keys, and they were there, thank god. I opened the door and I walked inside and up to our apartment. It wasn't terribly big, but it was better than certain places I had lived in before and, well, it was home.
Although it wouldn't be for much longer.
I unlocked the door and stepped in. Alfred was an insomniac, so there was a good chance that he would be awake.
"A-Alfred?" I called, sounding pathetically timid As I closed the door behind me and took a tentative step into the hallway.
"Ivan!" a relieved voice replied. Alfred ran into the hallway and next thing I knew, he had his arms wrapped around me in a tight embrace. "Babe, I tried calling but you wouldn't answer and oh god I thought you were dead and got eaten by ghosts or something-" he babbled.
"Wait, no, I'm supposed to be mad at you," he said, pulling out of the hug. The frantic, worried tone his voice had a moment ago was gone completely, replaced by a darker and accusing one. He glared at me, and that look alone almost reduced me to tears. "Where the FUCK have you been?! Do you know how worried I was?"
"Alfred...please, sunflower, I'm sorry..I'm so, so sorry..." I said, trembling and looking down, unable to look my boyfriend in the eye.
The frown was evident in his voice, and he put a hand on my arm, rubbing it soothingly. I could feel the glare soften slightly, although I knew this was far from over.
"Vanya, whatdya mean? What happened, babe?" He asked. He sounded worried, and I could hear the apprehension dripping from his voice.
Taking a deep breath, I rolled up my sleeve and unwrapped my scarf, revealing the vital clues as to what happened last night. Alfred knew about Yao and I and our past of binge drinking and getting high together.
He also knew that more often than not, we ended up fucking. It was a wonder that he still loved me.
Alfred gasped audibly and took my arm in his hands, studying run and running his thumb lightly over the needle marks. He choked out,
"Oh god...Ivan, no...oh god, no. Fuck...babe, you were with Yao, weren't you?" he looked up at me and saw the bite marks, tearing up with his lower lip trembling.
I looked down at him, ashamed and loathing myself. Nodding and unable to speak, I started to tear up too.
Letting go of my arm, Alfred turned away from me and covered his face with his hands. I'd really fucked up this time.
"V-Vanya, I trusted you..." he said, voice muffled by his hands.
"I know, sunflower. I-" I began.
And then my love, my angel, my sunflower turned around, glaring at me with a look that seemed to scream, "I hate you," at the top of its metaphorical lungs.
"No. You know what, Ivan? Spare me. Just spare me, and get out. I-I can't do this anymore!" he said on the verge of yelling, looking away. "You know I love you, but...this...enough is enough. Get your stuff, and get out." and with that, the love of my life walked out the door and slammed it behind him.
For a while, I stood there. It was impossible to do anything else. I didn't want to believe what had just happened, but I had no other choice. So, shakily I started to pack a bag, silent tear streaming down my cheeks. I felt lost, empty and incomplete without Alfred. I was terrified. I had no idea what I was going to do without him.
When I had finished, I wrote a quick note to him and left it on his pillow, on it were the only five words that he needed to hear from me. They were also last five words he would ever hear from me.
"I'm sorry. I love you."
I slung my bag over my shoulder, and I left for good. My feet felt far too heavy, and the whole situation didn't seem real. I walked downstairs, and I stepped outside.
It was brighter out, but the air was still cold. I fleetingly considered where I was going to live, but the decision had already been made by my subconscious.
Staring down at the ground, I slowly walked to Yao's. Where else would I go? Yao was the only person besides him who had loved me. And anything was better than being alone.
After a short while, I had reached my Chinese friend's apartment building. The door was unlocked, so I went in and walked upstairs to his apartment and knocked on the door.
"Hello-" Yao began, then stopped and stared when he realised who was standing before him. "Ivan...What's wrong, aru? You look terrible," he said, a small frown settling on his features.
With an unsteady, shallow breath I said the words I had hoped never to hear.
"I-It's Alfred. He...he left me."
And it was those, dear reader that were the events that lead up to this moment.
I'm laying on the floor once again, with needle marks on my arm and reminders of the night before on my neck. My violet eyes have dulled, my once strong and healthy muscles weakened by the substance that pulses through my veins. My life has gone down the drain, aside from Yao I'm alone. I've lost the one I love and I will never get him back. All that's left is the high the drug brings and the cold, piercing light of the morning.
Thanks for reading! Any reviews would be appreciated and please, PLEASE point out any spelling or grammar mistakes.