CHAPTER ONE
Be Careful of What You Wish For, You Just Might Get It
Again. It was the twelfth time that month that Arthur and Alfred had a fight. It was tiring for Arthur, but he had always endured. He had always thought of Alfred first. He had always thought that he loved the American too much to actually leave. But this time was different.
"I hate you Arthur! Why don't you leave me alone for once? Go somewhere away from me, like Russia. And I wish you get stranded there so you can't get back!"
Arthur winced. It was the first time Alfred had told him to get lost. And it hurt. His chest tightened and he couldn't breathe.
Alfred. He was leaving again, wasn't he? The last words the American had said swirled around the Brit's mind. He had said that he hated Arthur. He had told Arthur to go and get himself stranded in Russia. He had implied that he didn't want to see the Brit again.
Arthur felt tears slide down his cheek. At any other circumstance, he wouldn't have let them fall. He would have wiped them away. But right then, Arthur was too tired to care. Too confused.
Too hurt.
He thought about Alfred. Was he already asleep? Was he thinking about Arthur?
Arthur chuckled, his voice hollow. Of course not. He had told Arthur to leave him alone, after all. It would be hypocritical of him if he thought of the crying Brit in the living room after what he had said.
Arthur wanted nothing more but to ask Alfred for forgiveness. He didn't know what had spurred the argument, but that didn't matter to him. All he wanted was to be back in his lover's warm embrace.
But Alfred wanted him stranded in Russia.
Arthur stood up slowly, his knees shaking. If that's what Alfred wanted then he'd oblige. With trembling hands, he drew a circle on the hardwood floor, chanting as he went. His fingers drew runes around it and after the last rune had been written, the circle glowed bright blue and Arthur disappeared.
~.;*;.~
"Artie?" Alfred whispered as he went down the stairs and into the living room. The house was eerily quiet, and the American didn't like it one bit. He frowned when he couldn't see Arthur anywhere: not in the guest room, not in the kitchen, not even in the garden. It wasn't like Arthur to leave without prior notice; he was too gentlemanly for that. That's why when Alfred plopped down on the couch an hour later, he had a frown etched on his face.
He sighed. He had wanted to apologize to Arthur. He knew it was another petty argument that they had gotten themselves into, and he knew that he took it too far with what he had said.
"I hate you Arthur! Why don't you leave me alone for once? Go somewhere away from me, like Russia. And I wish you get stranded there so you can't get back!"
Alfred grimaced at the memory. He hadn't meant to say such harsh words to the Brit. He was just consumed by his rage. Again.
He wanted to punch himself. He wanted to rip his vocal chords out so he can't say another hurting word to Arthur. He was stupid. He shouldn't have let the night pass without saying anything to the Brit. He shouldn't have said those words in the first place. So many things he knew he shouldn't have done. But it was too late. Arthur was gone.
Another half an hour passed. Alfred had thought of calling Francis, but the Frenchman didn't know where the Brit was either. He had called Kiku too, but he was met once again with a negative answer.
He grunted in frustration. Where could Arthur be? He couldn't have taken Alfred seriously and got himself stranded in Russia... Could he?
It was then that he noticed the weird drawing in one corner of the room. It was a circle with a lot of squiggly line surrounding it. But Alfred thought they looked familiar. Could it be..?
His eyes widened as the truth dawned on him suddenly. Arthur did go and got himself stranded in Russia.
...
...
He was screwed.
/ My first Hetalia chapter fic.! Bear with me if I don't manage to update immediately (meaning at most one week from the most recent update). I'm a little busy at the moment with my CS midterm project, but I really wanted to post this. Please review.! /