Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia or any of its lovely characters; Though... God only knows I wish they were. If you dont like because of the ships I used; that is just really sad since I specified who I was using. Feel free to review. And I hope you enjoy! ;v; (btw the ship is PRUSSIA AND AUSTRIA) ~NoraNeko-Chan

It occured directly after a random spat of his between another particular country. GOTT, WHY DID HE HAVE TO BE A PART OF THIS? But he knew why.

He all but well knew why.

He allowed this to happen to himself; and what he felt was hatred and spite. He wanted to die. There was no honor in what fate had in store for him. He would much rather have rather died a terrible bloody death rather than loosing a bet to Gilbert, and facing the concequences which he knew would be very impactful and terrifying. And that fate, was to belong to Prussia completely.

'WHY DO THESE THINGS HAPPEN TO ME?!?!'

"Hey Roddy," A deep voice filled his ears as a slight pressure built on shoulder, and he looked up to see that it was Gilbert who leaned on it, his crimson gaze unreadable and a white-grey brow quirked up in slight interest.

It made him sick.

"What are you thinking about?"

He wanted to snap at him with a snide comment, say something cocky to get Gilbert's blood boiling. Make their argument continue with senseless bickering. He wanted to. But he remembered the position he was in; and merely stared into the depths of those crimson red eyes with sad emptiness enveloping in his chest, drowning everything else out.

He felt violated, like he was no longer important to the world. It really is hard to be a power when you can't act as a country yourself. Everything he did was a like a shadow, unnoticed a majority of the time, and unimportant. Fading constantly away like waves along the white sands of the beach.

The emotions that were trapped inside of him were very overwhelming. It was too much... And he felt the ridges of his vision blurr with tears. Gilbert tilted his head a little looking at Roderich with a small sadistic smirk, almost enjoying the humiliation radiating from the male.

Humiliation.

He felt the slick wetness slide down his cheeks, one running over his dark mole and causing it to tingle slightly. Then small whimpers escaped his lips when it became to much, and he immediately looked toward the floor, his cheeks heating with hate for himself and helplessness. Gibert continued to stare, making the situation ten times worse for him.

But suddenly, he felt two soft hands cup the sides of his face, tilting it upward slowly. He wanted to look away. He didnt want Gilbert to see his red, tear streaked face.

His eyes fluttered closed, feeling as if the end was nearing. He wanted to fall into a slow, painless sleep.

His eyes snapped open again when he felt softness touch his lips very slowly, carefully as if dealing with a frightened child. Then he heard the voice.

"I'm sorry... Im so sorry..."

What was going on?

The lips moved away from his own to graze the right corner of his mouth and the edge of his mole, and then moved again to move peck the tip of his nose. The warmth of the other began to fade as they moved back, and Roderich couldnt help but look up.

Blood. Death. Diasese. CRIMSON.

He remembered his history, the years and years of fighting for purpose, and fighting for nothing at all. It was the end of him. He felt it come closer as the seconds passed, and he was afraid.

"Im sorry you had to end like this... But I would rather it be with someone who cares about you than by the hand of meaningless war." He stroked Roderich's dark hair from his eyes, smiling gently, and surprised by the softness of the Austrian's dark brown hair.

Roderich stared into those crimson depths, and for once, he longed to drown in them.

Gilbert leaned closer, his voice quiet and husky as he mumbled, "If you are going to fade, then at least we can fade together..."

Roderich blinked his violet eyes, his heart thumping and a new feeling entering his body. It definately wasnt pain, or defeat, or sadness or hate.

For once it was hope.

And he moved his hands from his lap slowly, bringing them upward and covering Gilberts hands with the coldness of his black leather gloves.

If he were to fade, then at least he wasnt alone.

And for once,

He was fine with being unimportant.

TO BE CONTINUED.

This is my first published fic and I hope it's okay... ;-;