"I hate you… I hate you so much!" Matthew shouted, his long, elegant index finger was jabbed violently into Alfred's chest. "You're a controlling son of a bitch… I do so much shit for you! You don't even realize I'm here!" Alfred simply stared up at Matthew, knowing from years experience that it was better not to bother, this would all pass soon.

Receiving nothing more than a calm stare, Matthew seemed to become even further infuriated. "Fuck you." Giving a rough shove to Alfred, Matthew stomped his way to the kitchen, presumably to down another beer. It never failed to surprise Alfred how the lean man packed it all away with hardly a sway in his step or a stutter in his speech.

Alfred's head was hung low as he tried to avoid the stinging thoughts pecking insistently at the back of his mind. Jutting his jaw to the left and biting down, the tip of his tongue received sharp pressure between his canines. He breathed deeply through his nose. He was stuck in a circle constantly reminding himself that the mood would pass quickly and Matthew would walk back in any second apologizing with wide, guilty eyes.

It was twenty minutes later when Matthew's soft steps hit the old, creaky maple floor boards of the living room. "A-Al?" his gentle murmur called through the room. Alfred snapped his head up from its hung place in his hands and an honest smile, not his practiced one, appeared across his lips.

Alfred's real smile was crooked and gummy, and showed too many teeth. It was like an innocent child's yet at the same time, had the pains of an old man who'd seen far too much pain and had far too much guilt sunk low to the bottom of his gut. Matthew was one of the few who ever saw this smile. And as for the others who did, the majority of the time it was simply a drunken slip of Alfred's.

Alfred was all too practiced in plastering a fake smile on.

"I'm sorry Al." Matthew sighed, looking anywhere but at Alfred. "I just-"

"It's not you... it's... them." Alfred chuckled almost sadly, standing from his seated position on the couch and thudding his way to Matthew's side. He tilted his head to the side and opened his arms, waiting for Matthew to chance him a glance. Soon after Matthew unknowingly obliged and shot a quick glance up through his mess of hair, meeting Alfred's stare. Alfred's childish smile shone brighter than before and he quickly enveloped the slightly taller brother in his arms.

"I'm the little brother, shouldn't you be comforting me." Alfred smirked a bit. He tensed for a second after the words hit the air, he could never tell what his brothers reply would be. Many of Matthew's people were quite decisive over their thoughts of Alfred. Half hated his guts, and the other sucked up to him, and still there was that population, that just didn't care. Alfred liked those who didn't care the most, it gave him the opportunity to just maybe spend time with his real brother.

At the times those who hated Alfred seemed to just seep in, or something new had garnered their rage, Alfred was assaulted with a string of insults, a rope of rejections, and a chain of hate. He received the abuses from his brother silently, so long as his own people weren't getting worked up from something against Matthew's as well, at which point, he couldn't help it. Alfred's heavy loaded shoulders would slump from a mere scorch of Matthew's eyes at those times.

At the times that the ones who endlessly sucked up to Alfred took over, Alfred couldn't even bare to look at his brother. It pained him to see his big brother, to see Matthew, his best friend, turn into some sniveling weakling, not even at his own control. It was disgusting to him that someone who had so much potential to be so strong, and wise, independent, would suddenly lose himself to these people who made Matthew throw all pride to the wind and throw himself at Alfred. He hated seeing his brother bow down to him, especially when pained of doing so.

Alfred liked those who just didn't care the most out of the three. He preferred an apathetic brother over the other two, and one that hated him over one that was clearly pained when throwing himself at Alfred. At least during the apathetic times, Alfred got to at least see glimpses of the kid he'd grown up with, the one he carried and the one who carried him right back.

"Ha, like you need comforting you retard." Matthew replied, but the tone was clearly joking, a click of his tongue at the end and a smirk on his lips. Alfred's true grin broke even wider than the first two times, bright enough to blind, as he quickly held his brother closer, chest filling with warmth.

"But I'm your retard! Your super-retard!" Alfred snickered. He was rocking the practically suffocating Matthew back and forth in his arms excitedly, even going so far as to swing him around in circles.

"Damn straight!" Matthew snickered right back, before beginning to squirm and try to shove his brother away from him, laughter filling the air from both sides of the party.

At the times like this, Alfred was the happiest, because all the torn voices in Matthew suddenly quieted, the identity crisis seemed to suddenly become null, and Alfred's real brother suddenly showed up, smiling bright and looking, for once, at peace with himself.

Sorry if it sucked :P
It's just a short inspired by my politics class, since my teacher sometimes refers to countries as people and well... I just sit there cracking up to myself xD

...Man Hetalia makes World History and Politics so much more fun for me XD