Current obsession(s): Porridge, and singing my new periodic table song! (oh god how sad am I?!)
So this is different from my usually stuff for two reasons. One; It's hetalia. Two: It. Is. Pure. Fluff.
But let's be honest, it's hard not to write fluff when it comes to UK x US.
Inspired by the video; [APH] USxUK - A Thousand Years by KagamaniaLen. Check it out if you have time!
Enjoy ^_^
Sometimes things can't be fixed.
Sometimes things are just too broken.
Sometimes when you spend your entire life waiting that's all you can do. Wait. Too afraid to take that definitive step, too stuck in your ways to give up, too stubborn to go back.
And so you keep on waiting.
Always waiting despite the hurt, despite the pain you wait and time comes to a stand still.
Time… what is it to us really?
Nothing.
I've loved you for over a thousand years and will love you for a thousand more, but it doesn't change anything. I cannot reach you.
Cannot…
I've died everyday waiting for you, do you know that? Every single day my heart has withered and I've given up, only to be pulled back into this world by your smile, your laugh… by you.
You. Wonderful, hateful, stupid you who can see everything, has always seen everything, yet are blind to this.
You have no idea what you do to me.
But it doesn't matter, I don't matter. All that matters is our bond, our tentative, fragile yet binding bond.
It's so delicate, like a bubble on the verge of popping. But at the same time it is so strong, so deep that it frightens me.
When did it become like this? I want to change it, I want to break it, to destroy it, anything to get rid of this dull, empty hole at the centre of my chest, I want…
But I can't… can't.
Sometimes… it's just too late.
Rain pelted endlessly. The park lay painted in dreary shades of black and grey, pleasant afternoons in warm sunlight now a distant memory under the angry glare of thunderous, black clouds bearing down on the land. Trees trembled in the bitter wind, bare and miserable in the bleak autumn weather, devoid of colour save the last, clinging leaves of autumn fire that clung desperately on to the topmost branches.
Silence reigned. Not a soul dared brave the cold, not even the most dedicated of runners, the hardiest of dog walkers or the drunkest of tramps tried their luck against this sudden, harsh hand of nature. No one… but one.
He sat upright on a damp bench, dressed in a long, dark green overcoat. He held a red umbrella in one gloved hand, had his chin tucked into his coat, and stared sullenly at the ground with narrowed, mossy eyes. He checked his watch every two minutes or so.
Eventually another man joined him. Strolling casually along he sat without ceremony on the same bench at a careful distance. Arthur gave a small sigh of relief but otherwise did not react. They sat in silence for a time.
"You're twelve minutes late you know," Arthur said suddenly. "The least you could do is turn up on time, inconsiderate git."
Alfred said nothing. He was soaked to the bone having worn no coat other then his usual bomber jacket, his glasses raced with raindrops and his pale hair was plastered to his face.
Arthur shifted.
"You're wet through," he announced somewhat pompously. "Didn't you think to bring an umbrella? Idiot. It's pouring down, what did you expect? To fight off the rain with your 'awesome hero-ness' I bet, or some other idiotic notion like-"
"Shut up."
Arthur's mouth closed with an audible snap. His fist clenched.
Why, why did Alfred do this?
For the past who knows how long, he'd done this, always on this day. It'd become a sort of tradition, to turn up and sit together on this bench, at this time… silent. God how many had they done this now? And still Arthur couldn't get used to this Alfred. To the Alfred with no stupid grin on his face, no obnoxious laugh, no pointless chatter, no fire in his eyes. That was what Arthur really missed, that burning ambition, those blazing blue eyes that sparkled with life yet were as soft in colour as newly lain robin eggs.
No, this was not his Alfred.
This Alfred was too serious, too grim, too… sad. Too much… too much like that Alfred, on that faithful day when their worlds took separate paths.
It made Arthur's heart constrict painfully. Bastard, he thought bitterly. Getting me all worked up, sod him. Let him sulk.
Silence settled over them once more.
Arthur surveyed his surroundings, intent on ignoring Alfred to the best of his ability, and lost himself in the rain. His thoughts drifted to the past as they often did, a country's history is the most important thing to them after all.
Well… more often than not.
He recalled, with a small smile, a time when he'd been home with Alfred after a long period of time away on business. It'd been raining then too, probably even worse than this. Alfred had been restless, chewing at the bit to go outside and play. He could never stay still for long, he always had to get out and go on an adventure. He couldn't stand being surrounded by four walls.
So Arthur (after a good deal of chasing and cursing, for Alfred was scarily quick, even as a child) sat him down at a table, gave him a few sticks, some paper and a pair of scissors.
The look on Alfred's face was priceless.
"What am I supposed to do with this?"
"Not you, we. We're going to put on a puppet show, would you like that?"
"Yeah! Do I getta be the hero?!"
"Get to, not getta… and yes, yes you're always the hero Alfred, isn't that so?"
"Yeah! And you too big brother, we're a team!"
"… Yes."
Arthur relaxed back against the bench, a wide, warm smile on his lips. He'd forgotten about that. They'd spent the entire night behind a homemade screen of bed sheets, shinning torches on their puppets as they went through adventure after adventure. Alfred fell asleep halfway to India if Arthur remembered correctly, muttering incoherently about wrestling tigers with his super human powers.
Arthur chuckled softly.
His thoughts drifted forward slightly, to more recent events in the rain. It was raining when Arthur first discovered Alfred doing this too.
They'd been at a meeting in London all day, arguing and getting no where as usual, and had gone their separate ways at the end of the day. Arthur had felt particularly irritated that day (he couldn't remember exactly why but he had a sneaking suspicion it had something to do with that damn frog) and had stormed out in a great huff despite the rain.
He pounded his way through busy streets, road the tube to Piccadilly, wondered some more, caught a taxi nowhere, and ended up in Hyde Park.
That's where he found him.
Alfred.
Sat on this very same bench, staring at the same tree with the same expression upon his face.
Arthur had of course, quite rightly asked just what the hell he was doing. But Alfred didn't answer, he just sat staring.
Arthur moved on, having decided to forget the idiot American and his strange behaviour.
Only he couldn't. It plagued him. And when Alfred came back next year on the same day, and the year after that and the year after that, well… it was very un-gentlemanlike to just leave the poor bugger alone in the rain. So Arthur took to joining him every year.
And still Alfred said nothing. He didn't offer an explanation for his strange behaviour and to this day Arthur couldn't work out the reason why today was so important.
Arthur chewed at his lip thoughtfully, thick eyebrows furrowed in a thunderous frown. He shook himself slightly, snapping back to the present and felt eyes on him. He turned to look at Alfred and found with a jolt he was staring at him. Arthur's cheeks flushed as he realised just what sort of faces he'd been making.
They stared, not moving, not speaking, and then Alfred turned away with a small sigh. For some reason this annoyed Arthur.
I think I prefer him as an imbecile, he thought dryly.
"Achoo!"
Arthur jumped, a little startled. He snuck a glance at Alfred to find the taller man wiping his red nose. He removed his glasses to wipe his face with a gloved hand and sniffed loudly. He was shivering violently.
That stupid- Arthur sighed. Oh bugger it.
He stood, stepped and sat.
He held the umbrella high over Alfred's head, eyes closed and chin high, trying desperately to remain aloof.
Alfred's lips twitched. "Phft,"
Arthur frowned. "Now see here, I just happened to notice you were cold, there's no need to ridicule my act-"
"Hahahahahahahahahahahahahaha !"
Arthur came up short. Alfred was laughing. He was laughing at him.
"Ah man..." Alfred breathed. "Your face."
Arthur felt his hackles rise. "What's wrong with my face?" he demanded.
Alfred shook his head, still laughing.
Arthur sniffed indignantly but secretly heaved a sigh of relief. Finally Alfred had said something well… Alfred like.
Eventually Alfred's laughter choked off into small chortles, and then ceased altogether. He leaned back and looked up at the underside of the umbrella, smiling.
"You don't change, you know that?" he said.
Arthur turned to him; a little shocked Alfred was actually talking yet glad all the same. He hid a smile and straightened.
"I suppose I don't," he agreed.
"Nope. You, British dude, are the same old boring stick."
Arthur spluttered, rounding on Alfred. "Excuse me?! Not everyone can run around doing whatever they like spouting nonsense like some people," he snapped.
Alfred laughed softly. "See what I mean?"
Arthur blinked. He glanced at Alfred, eyes softening as he watched the younger nation smile at a secret thought.
"You do," he said, quietly.
Alfred turned to him.
"Change I mean," he continued. "I can never tell what half-witted scheme you'll come up with next, you always look to the future… it's… admirable sometimes."
Alfred's face was picture of shock. Arthur grinned. "You're still a twit though, so don't go buffing up that ego, goodness knows what would happen if it got any bigger." Arthur shuddered at the thought.
"You- I," Alfred stopped, frowning.
Arthur shifted his arm slightly, it was beginning to ache. "What?" he asked.
Alfred clenched his fists. That expression was back again, that serious, stoic, almost… painful expression. Alfred put his head in his hands with an exasperated sigh.
"That's the problem… isn't it?" he whispered, voice muffled.
"What problem?" Arthur demanded, leaning down to hear him.
Suddenly Alfred jerked up, bumping Arthur on the forehead. He winced, cursing under his breath and when he next opened his eyes, he was staring into two endless voids of blue, nose to nose with Alfred. His breath caught.
"Us." Alfred breathed. "Our problem,"
They stayed, immobile for a time, not daring to breathe, locked in each others gazes.
Finally, Alfred broke away.
Arthur blinked, slowly following his lead in a daze. He hadn't been so close to Alfred in a very long time.
"I still don't have a clue what you're going on about," he announced, thoroughly puzzled. What was with Alfred today?
"Naw, I bet cha don't." Alfred chuckled.
"Well tell me then if I'm so bloody dense!" Arthur raged, jerking the umbrella sharply so that a shower of raindrops fell from the red material.
Alfred stared at him steadily, not in the least bit put off by his temper. He leaned down so that his chin was on his hand and stared into the distance, a ghost of a smile trailing his lips.
"I change, I go with the tide. The future is what I'm all about dude," he laughed but it was short lived and bitter. "Then there's you… you're stuck in the past man."
Arthur's neck flushed red. "I'm as flexible as you I'll have you know," he snapped. "Don't think you're better just because I have a sense of history, a country should-"
"That's not what this is about!"
Arthur felt the breath leave his lungs as he was dragged to his feet. Alfred had a hand screwed up in his coat, yanking him none too gently from the bench. The umbrella fell to the ground.
"I'm talking about that stupid smile you had on your face before, I'm talking about the fact that you can't let go, won't let me go! How am I supposed to move on if you won't let me? I'm sick of this, I want you to look at me Arthur!"
Arthur felt a jolt run through him at the sound of his name, "What on earth are you talking about?" he asked. "I am looking at you."
Alfred released him with a hallow laugh. He shook his head and kicked the bench. It cracked clean in two.
"There you go again!" Alfred shouted. "Arthur, I'm talking about the me now. I'm sick of seeing another me in your eyes whenever you look at me. I'm not your kid brother anymore, get it? It's the past and you need to live with it!" Alfred stopped, panting hard, shuddering with anger.
Arthur swallowed dryly. So this, he thought. Is what has been building up all this time. Fine. If he wants to have it out, I'll give it to him.
"What wrong with it?" he asked. "What's wrong with remembering the past? If I don't have that then what do I have?"
Alfred blinked. "Are you-"
"What do I have Alfred?!" Arthur hissed. "You were the first person to ever care about me, to choose me. Hell my own brothers hated me, still hate me. No one wanted me, I was so small. So tell me, is it wrong to miss the little brother that chose me, that wanted me?"
Alfred gulped.
"Is it?!"
"Arthur… are you crying?"
Arthur sucked in a breath, a hand reaching up to touch his now moist cheeks. It made him angrier.
"Arthur I didn't mean to-"
"Shut up! How dare you, how bloody dare you! You say you want me to let you go? Arsehole! I let you go during that bloody revolutionary war, I've made my peace with that. You wanted freedom and I gave it to you! Did I shoot you? No. I could have but I didn't. I let you go, and now you want my memories too? They're all I have Alfred!"
He stopped, sobs wracking his body, tearing his heart apart.
"I'd been through hell and war before you even existed. I've ruled the seas and sailed the world, I've conquered land and countries alike without a second thought, and yet- and yet despite all of that the one thing I couldn't have, the one thing I wanted above all else, I… I gave up. I gave up my brother. I gave up you. So don't tell me to live with it, because I do, every single day."
Arthur covered his tear ridden eyes, blocking Alfred out, hiding his vulnerability.
"So don't take my memories too. You may be strong enough Alfred, to just forget everything and look a head, but I'm not. You're so fresh and optimistic, you can change the world and forget all about me and I won't stop you. Just let me have this, just this… please."
There was a beat of silence. Arthur didn't dare look up. After all this time everything he'd bottled up had just come spilling out, rather like Alfred's outburst before.
Finally… they were sharing the thoughts that had plagued them for so long.
"Alfred?" Arthur ventured, when he got no reply, still too embarrassed to look up. "Al- mumph!"
Alfred's arms encased Arthur, holding him tightly, desperately against his chest. Arthur stilled in surprise, inhaling sharply. He smells of corn, the sea… and hamburgers.
"I can't do that," Alfred said.
Arthur felt anger boil in his gut. He pushed at Alfred furiously, trying to rip himself from his grasp but Alfred was too strong. He just tightened his grip.
"Get off me you selfish clout!" he shouted.
Arthur felt a low chuckle in his ear.
"Yeah, I'm selfish. But so are you. Do you know what's it like being with you? Disappointing you all the time because I'm not that kid you remember?" Alfred pulled back a fraction to stare intensely at Arthur. "I want you to see me, get it? I want you too Arthur, I've always wanted you, but the want changed over time. I felt it, I knew it, but you couldn't see it. You still can't."
Arthur felt a blush rise in his cheeks. "What are you saying? Stop talking nonsense and let me go!"
He squirmed in Alfred's arms, looking anywhere but Alfred. Alfred's hand found his chin, fixing him in place. Arthur stubbornly looked at his chest.
"Look at me,"
Arthur bit his lip.
"Please, just this once, at me."
Heart a flutter, ears pounding Arthur lifted his chin… and was caught.
"Do you understand now?" Alfred said softly, swaying forward until their foreheads were touching. "I wanted to be equal to you Arthur, I want this," he drew Arthur's hand up and entwined his fingers with his own. "Will you give it to me?"
Arthur couldn't speak, couldn't think. All he could see was a screen and puppets and a little Alfred smiling up at him.
"A team?" he asked, aloud.
Alfred blinked and then chuckled, brushing Arthur's wet hair from his face. It made him shiver. "A team," he agreed.
"Then," Arthur curled his own fingers around Alfred's, blushing furiously as he did so, and titled his head upward. "Let's look to the future,"
Alfred's answering smile was dazzling.
Their breath mingled in the air, misting in the cold. Alfred's body was warm and solid around him; his scent was overpowering, homely and his arms held him with a gentleness that made his heart weep with happiness.
Alfred's nose nudged his own. Arthur's eyelids became heavy. He gazed up at the younger nation through his eyelashes, basking in the love that enveloped him. He stood up on his tiptoes and paused, gazing at the lips just inches from his own.
Together, they closed the gap.
It was chaste and sweet and spoke more words, more emotion then any conversation they'd ever had. In it was all of the longing, all of the sadness and happiness and love and pain they'd shared over the years.
They broke apart with glassy eyes.
Alfred giggled.
"What?" Arthur queried.
"Now you're wet too,"
Arthur smirked slyly, nipping Alfred's lips with quick, teasing teeth. "You'll have to warm me up then, before I catch a cold." he said breathily.
Alfred blushed beetroot.
Arthur bent to pick up his umbrella and together they stood, hand in hand, grinning like idiots and not caring in the least. They set off, Alfred enthusiastically tugging Arthur along, more excited to visit Arthur's home then he'd ever been. Arthur followed with a laugh when suddenly, a thought hit him. He stopped abruptly. Alfred looked back at him.
"What's up?"
Arthur's expression was thoughtful. "Why today?"
"Huh?"
"Today, why did you keep coming back on this day?" The unanswered question still nibbled at his unconsciousness.
Alfred looked thoroughly shocked. "You mean you don't know?"
Arthur made a face. "Well excuse me for not being psychic," he grumbled.
Alfred ruffled his hair. "Ah man, and you call me an idiot."
Arthur swiped at his hand and opened his mouth to counter- but Alfred sealed them with a kiss. It was the first effective method he'd ever used to quieten Arthur.
"Think about it, and you'll remember. I mean dude, you're always the one who's talking about it."
"Me? But today isn't anything special-" he stopped, eyes widening in realisation. He looked at Alfred with a new clarity. He gasped. "Today is-"
"Yeah," Alfred murmured. "I may look to the future, but I don't forget the past Arthur. Today's the day we first met, happy anniversary I guess."
Arthur felt his heart swell.
He kissed him with a muffled 'idiot', a lingering, passionate kiss. They broke away with their hearts finally full.
"Let's go home Alfred,"
"Yeah,"
They set off into the rain, clasping hands, hip to hip, together. They didn't look back once, and to anyone who bothered to listen to their distant conversation, it went a little like this.
"Got any coffee?"
"I might have a drop of the awful stuff,"
"Awesome, and you know you like it really. What about hamburgers?"
"… Do you want to end up fat? Greedy git."
"Hahaha, but you love me anyway."
"… Yes… I suppose I do."
"Course you do, I'm a hero!"
"Yes, yes, and I'm a penguin named Jillian."
"…Arthur?"
"Hmmm?"
"I love you too."
One step closer.
Just one step.
Everyday I believed I'd find you.
Everyday I believed I would make you see me.
You've always been so close to me, just in front of me, but I couldn't get at you. You wouldn't let me. You refused to see me.
But every breath, every hour has come to this. To this. To us.
One step closer and we're there.
A thousand years I've loved you.
And finally, finally you see me. Finally you stand next to me willingly. Finally you've let it go.
Thank you.
"Alfred, what are you writing?"
Alfred tucked the paper into his jacket pocket, which lay forgotten on the floor along with the rest of his wet clothes. He beamed at Arthur.
"Ah nothing, just some notes about today. So, you've got my hamburger right?"
Arthur sighed. "Yes, you greedy sod I have your damn hamburger, here."
"Thanks, oh and Arthur?"
"Yes?- and don't tell me you want pop to go with it."
"No, just… thank you."
Arthur frowned. "You're welcome, it's just a hamburger after all."
"Yeah but… thanks all the same."
"…idiot."
Bet you didn't expect Alfred to be the one who wrote the embarrassing, mushy stuff. Neither did I, until I wrote it! Hehe
Love, hate? Drop a review. Thanks for reading! :)