Just a cute USUK one-shot:
Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia or the characters (even though I would love to! :3)
Please Don't Leave Me
"You are coming right Iggy?" An obnoxious voice said much too loudly on the other end of the telephone. I withdrew the device away from my ear slightly, feeling the destruction that the other nation's volume was having on my eardrums.
"Uh… Yeah, sure. Whatever." I replied. The answer was lacking my usual sarcastic tone, as I began to sense the familiar longing that erupted in my chest every year. I lay on my bed, looking towards the ceiling, my mind wandering in directions I wished it wouldn't.
"Okay!" Alfred exclaimed, oblivious to the fact that I said the same thing every year, and still have never gone to a fourth of July party. I could hear the enthusiasm in the younger nation's tone, and almost, almost, felt guilty for not going, but I knew I would be forgotten as soon as the party started.
"It's going to be AWESOME! I found this place that sells fireworks real cheap, and so I bought a TON!" He continued loudly, causing the distance between my head and the phone lengthen dramatically.
"Truly awesome." I said, distracted by the swirling designs on my ceiling. "But if you will excuse me, I had best be going." I prepared to hang up the phone, and begin my frantic search for the stash of whiskey I kept for occasions such as these, but was stopped by an excited-sounding American.
"Best be going... To get ready for the party right?" Alfred said, and I could picture his eyebrows lifting hopefully. I almost smiled softly at the picture, before shaking my head to clear it of the images, which I knew, would lead to a long, painful, mental rampage.
"Of course Alfred. Goodbye then." I sighed, and finally hung up the phone, collapsing backwards onto the bed as I did so. I could feel my mind racing, trying to force me to relive memories I had been trying to forget for years. Sadly, a nation's memory is annoyingly good, and I had not been successful.
I grabbed the nearest pillow and, placing it firmly over my face, proceeded to try and suffocate the thoughts and voices from my head. As you can imagine, the weak efforts were useless. In less then thirty seconds, I gave up my mind to the memories like I had every year before. Might as well keep a tradition right? Alfred's voice from that day repeated over, and over in my mind, every time with a harsher tone. "…Nor your little brother…"
I have always known it was foolish to dwell on the past, but I guess that the memory of fighting and loosing the only person that you have ever allowed yourself to love changes the rules. I could feel the salty tears stinging my eyes and closed them tightly, wishing that I would finally get over my foolishness after all these years. Even so, a part of me didn't want to forget; I didn't want to forget the times when Alfred would come racing into my arms and deliver his bone-crushing hug whenever I would come to visit, which was much too seldom; I realized this much too late.
My depressing thoughts were unexpectedly interrupted by a loud knock on the door; I froze.
"G-go away." I whimpered pathetically, not caring that the pillow, still fixed around my face, muffled my voice. The knocking continued without hesitation, so with a huff, I slid from the bed, trying my best to make it seem like I hadn't been crying. The aforementioned action was much harder then it would seem, and just made my eyes red and puffy. Descending the stairs, getting rather annoyed by the incessant knocking, I tried to think of who would possibly be calling on me at such a time. Anyone who valued their life -except me of course- would naturally be at America's party, so that cancelled out pretty much everyone besides maybe Russia. I shuddered at the thought of having the Russian waiting at my door, but dismissed the idea with the fact that the Russian would have probably attended the party if only to make others uncomfortable with his presence.
No, I decided that the knocker was simply someone trying to sell something or other. In which case, I had decided that I could use the poor fellow to release my rage.
Approaching the door, I made one last movement to squeeze the wetness out of my eyes before throwing open the door.
Seeing the person who was standing there, my heart jumped into my throat and I could feel my eyes widen significantly.
"A-Alfred?" I asked, and simply continued to stare at the other nation, not believing my eyes. He was smiling, but I could see the worry and hurt that lined his features. "W-what are you doing here!"
He smoothly made his way past me and through the door, planting himself onto the nearest sofa as though he owned the place. I was still in my shocked state as I stared at him suspiciously, and sat down on the opposite chair. Alfred sprawled out over the sofa, taking up every inch of the thing, making himself comfortable I guessed, before he finally answered the question that had been hanging in the air.
"Well, you didn't show up at the party, so I thought that something may have, yanno, happened to you!" The American said, the worry I had spotted earlier shinning through his voice. I simply sat, disbelieving that the other nation was indeed here with me, in my house. I instantly felt self-conscious, hoping that Alfred hadn't noticed the redness around my eyes.
"Why would you think something had happened?" I asked, and then mumbled. "It's not like you've ever noticed before." The younger nation's face sunk, his grin faltering.
"What do you mean by 'before' Iggy?" He asked, his thumbs as if he knew and feared the answer.
"I mean the fact that I have never been at any of your parties before, and this is the first year you decide to notice!" I said, ignoring the nickname. My voice had begun to rise, but Alfred took no notice.
"You haven't been at any of my Fourth of July parties?" He said, his grin completely disappearing for the first time since I could remember, the hurt clear in his voice. Oh God. Oh God. Oh God. I thought. Why, oh why did I have to bring it up? I felt like introducing my head to the wall, not matter the pain it would cause.
"Because I can't." I mumbled somewhat to myself, staring at the floor, incapable of looking the other nation in the eyes. For once in his life, silence filled the same room as Alfred. F Jones. His unusual quietness confusing me, I glanced up quickly to find the other still staring at me, his eyebrows knitted together in confusion. I turn back to face the stairs, and was about to climb them again when I felt powerful arms wrap around my waist from behind. I let out a squawk of surprise, instincts screaming at me to fight back. I wheeled around, the former embarrassment forgotten, to glare at the man, meaning to cross my arms. Sadly, these arms were restricted to my sides, and any movement was impossible. Seeing my glare, Alfred released me grudgingly, backing up half a step, his cocky grin featured on his face once again.
"You, uh, seemed like you needed a hug." He explained innocently, shrugging "So I gave you one, because I'm the hero!" I was surprised by the sudden chance in his attitude, and could only stand there and continue to glower, finally able to cross my arms.
"Alfred, I'm not stupid," I started, my tone sharp and to the point. "And you're not either, no matter what some others believe. I know you have a reason for coming here, now what is it?" I tried to keep my voice steady, but it felt as though I was disciplining a child. The way I used to talk to Alfred, before. Thanks to that thought, I could feel my breath hitch in my throat, my body and mind working and using all their forces to get me to breakdown. I mentally cursed myself for being so weak as a single, unnoticeable- I hoped- tear slid down the length of my nose. Great, I had survived years of war, torture, bad economy, and even having France as a neighbor without shedding a single tear, but yet here I was, about to start sobbing just because some obnoxious, self righteous 'hero' showed up at a bad time.
Instead of answering, Alfred closed the small distance between us in a small stride, and smiled down at me. As he watched my face, his grin faltered, and almost subconsciously, he raised his hand to my face. I tensed in confusion until I felt his thumb wipe softly over where I had felt the traitorous tear earlier. I cursed myself mentally, and clasped my eyes shut, recoiling slightly.
"Arthur," I was baffled at Alfred's rare use of my human name, but said nothing. "What's wrong?" His voice was soft and unfamiliar; it almost sounded tender. I felt a longing to let myself melt into his touch, and simply give in to the wetness stinging my eyes as I would have long ago had he not shown up. However, I remained resilient, and backed away, eyes open but had once again retreated to the floor.
The other nation matched my steps, not allowing me to get outside his arm's reach. After realizing he wouldn't give in, I gave up with a sigh, my eyes finally leaving the plywood surface to look Alfred in the eye. His blue eyes were sparkling as usual, despite his somewhat worried expression.
"Well?" He asked softly- for him- and I felt his reassuring, feather-light touch on my hand. I stayed silent for a couple of moments, debating with myself whether or not to tell him. I knew that any under any other circumstance, I would have scoffed and snapped some common insult, yet I felt that this Alfred that stood before me- gentle, supportive, kind- could never hurt me like he had before.
As I made my decision, the tears recently on standby decided to use this opportune moment of weakness to spring into my eyes. Embarrassed, I wiped furiously at them, but was stopped by a suffocating hug. Grateful for the opportunity to hide my face, I convinced myself to relax, and leaned my head against his chest. For at least two precious minutes we stayed silent and still, our breathing and Alfred's gentle caresses on my hair the only movement in the room. I simply stood, my arms hanging limply by my sides, as the taller nation's fingers crept under my chin and proceeded to lift it upwards to meet his eyes. I averted them at first, but gave in and noticed the gleeful grin on the other's face. I emphasized the roll of my eyes, but couldn't control the corners of my mouth as they twitched into something of a smile. Alfred's eyes brightened as he traced a thumb along my lips.
"I never see you smile." He said cheerfully, making me blush even more then before. "You should let yourself be happy once in a while, it's good for you."
I tried to give him a dirty look, but that foolish grin and happy-go-lucky nature of his seemed to be contagious. That or my subconscious had finally decided that Alfred coming here was the best thing that could have happened; I would like to think that it was more the former then the latter.
"I smile lots around people, you git." I retorted quietly, knowing full well it wasn't the truth. "Just not usually when I'm with you."
"You used to smile whenever you came to visit-." Alfred stopped as he noticed my rigid figure, and the frown that had returned to my face. This time, my eyes didn't look away from his deep blue ones. Instead, before the other nation could speak or I could control my actions, I threw my arms around Alfred's neck and crushed my lips to his. I could feel him flinch in surprise, but returned the kiss nonetheless. I sighed, my eyes closing in pure bliss as his lips moved with mine, reality fading from my mind. As his arms wrapped around me again, I moved my fingers through the short hairs at the base of his neck, feeling him shudder slightly at the feather-like touches. I slipped my tongue between his lips easily and began to explore his welcoming mouth. He moaned against my lips, massaging my back as he drew us closer.
Only when I feared I would pass out form lack of oxygen did I finally pull away, leaning my head on Alfred's chest once again, my arms still wrapped around his neck. I could hear his racing heart beneath my ear, and couldn't help but smile happily with my eyes still closed. I stole a quick glance towards the taller nation holding me. His eyes were soft, his face once again featuring his signature grin.
Alfred caught my eye and leaned down to plant a kiss in my hair.
"I love you Artie." He breathed, "I always have; I always will."