Nascent
6:01 pm
"Am I late?"
Alfred perked up from his drink. He blinked in the dim light, focusing on the large man before him. He smiled and leaned back. "No, not at all!" He exclaimed. "Sit down, Ivan." He held out his hand. Ivan enveloped it in his own large, soft one and shook it twice firmly.
Ivan pulled the stool out from under the bar, sitting down. He wore a neat beige coat and pants. He ran his fingers through his silvery hair, exposing a broad, pale forehead. Alfred watched him move with a widening grin and a faint blush. Alfred turned to the bartender and ordered a drink. The man nodded and turned to pick through the finely lit glass, like stars along a dark night sky. Other couples murmured softly amongst themselves, laughing and clinking glasses.
"I'm glad you came." Alfred said, taking his glass of nearly clear liquid and downing it. Ivan did the same with what he ordered, something with ice cubes roaming along the bottom.
"I'm glad you invited me." Ivan said mildly, raising his eyebrows. His eyes were the color of nebulas, and Alfred found them dreamy. "Usually people don't invite me places."
"Why not?"
"They think I'm scary or something."
"I don't think you are. Well, maybe a little bit, but not in a harmful way." Alfred explained, turning his eyes down to the acutely polished table. He ran his finger through a drop of water, spreading it out into a line.
"Thank you." Ivan said.
. . .
6:30 pm
The watch on Alfred's wrist glowed that exact time. Alfred stared at the neon green hands, slowly ticking away his time. He shook it and placed his hand palm-down on the table. He looked around the bar. Still no sign of him. He looked at the bartender who was pouring a drink for a young woman sitting alone as well.
Her doe-like eyes flicked up to meet Alfred. They turned cold and went back down to her cell phone glowing brightly into her face. Alfred sighed and placed his head in his palm. Where was he? He was an hour late. Alfred looked at the watch again. The minute hand seemed to have frozen.
He could wait a quarter of an hour more, no trouble. It wasn't like he was seriously in love with the guy. He just barely met him. Right? Right.
. . .
7:12 pm
They walked through the streets, bundled in their jackets. Golden orbs glittered along the trees, casting warm fluorescence along the red cobbled stones and the closed shops. Restaurants were still open, filled with the dull murmur of people rustling utensils and whispering secrets. Alfred glanced at his watch.
Ivan walked next to him, his hands deep in his pockets. White clouds seeped through his lips with every breath. His eyes moved slowly towards Alfred's sky blue gaze. He smiled faintly. "Are you cold?"
"Nah," Alfred shook his head, adjusting his glasses out of habit.
Ivan pulled his hand from his pocket, placing it on Alfred's cheek. Alfred's cheeks burned. "You are cold." He said, retracting his hand. He put it back in his pocket and raised his elbow from his side.
Alfred hesitantly slipped his hand through, feeling warmer already. "Thanks." He mumbled.
"No problem." Ivan said, smiling again.
Their heels clicked against the streets. A beaded car from the earlier rain swept by occasionally, otherwise leaving them and the other couples alone in the evening. Ivan looked up, searching for the stars. Instead he found wispy clouds.
"I know where you can see the clouds clearly." Alfred said, looking upwards too.
"I'd love to see it."
. . .
6:47 pm
Alfred left the bar with his hands in his pockets. He walked through the streets alongside bustling cars. The cold air trailed along his spine and hands. He curled his fingers into fists, holding them in his pockets.
He passed a wider street soaked in orange light. He cast it a single glance before looking back ahead, to where his apartment was.
. . .
7:32 pm
"You're right. The stars are clear here." Ivan said.
The stood at the top of a hill where the nearby park ended and rural life began. The grass swayed in the moonlight. They stared at the skies. The stars dotted across their horizon, at the ends still tinged red with a stubborn ray of sun. The hard stars, like gems, poked through the darkness and filled them with quiet humbleness.
Alfred moved his hand from Ivan's elbow, sliding it down the firm forearm, and meeting the hand in its pocket. Ivan laced his fingers with Alfred. Alfred felt he would burst from glee. Ivan looked over at him.
"Thank you for bringing me here."
"No problem. I love coming here."
The moon hung just behind the boughs of the trees, chrome.
"It must be lonely here alone."
"You only know how lonely once you've been here with someone."
. . .
7:20 pm
The heater rumbled, filling the entire apartment. Alfred lay on his back, staring at the ceiling from his bed. The ceiling was painted with stripes of yellow from the streetlamp outside. He heard someone yelling. Then a girl's laughter. And then there was only the silence that could come from noise within a crowded street: the buzz of nightlife. Maybe one or two things were bound to break.
Alfred shifted on his bed. He picked up his phone and clicked it on. It pooled on the bed.
7:21
No messages
No calls
No apologies
No warnings
No good-byes
No hellos
Alfred set his phone down, distressed. He took his glasses off, hoping to fall asleep. He couldn't. His head was still crowded with thoughts.
. . .
8:30 pm
Alfred looked at Ivan once they stopped in front of a family restaurant. "Are you hungry?" Ivan nodded. They turned into the place and were greeted by the chef's daughter, as her nametag dictated: Emily. She was small and thin with a rounded face and flaxen hair pulled back. Her clear eyes looked at them both.
"I have a table for you already, if that's what you're wondering." She said.
"How did you know?" Alfred asked. Ivan remained stoic.
Emily giggled into her fist. "I can tell. Lots of couples wander here after enjoying the streets at night, especially during this season. One choice, to visit each other, and you end up in love. How romantic." She sighed.
Alfred smiled. "I like that. Lead the way, miss."
Emily nodded and led them to a window seat on the upper floor, next to the window, so they could see the moon.
"What a hopeless romantic." Ivan stated, not without a bit of fondness.
Alfred agreed. "She's very adorable, you have to admit."
Though their minds were both elsewhere.
Choice?
Whose choice? Theirs? Fate's?
. . .
8:40 pm
Alfred wondered how many more episodes of Desperate Housewives he could watch. He needed to do something else. He looked out the window, at the empty sky.
. . .
9:00 pm
Ivan walked into Alfred's apartment. He gave it one sparing glance, humming his approval. He pulled his jacket off. He silently watched Alfred show him around.
He finished the tour in his bedroom. Alfred stood at the front, ashamed of his disarray. Clothing was clumped in one corner, ready for a wash, but otherwise it seemed relatively hygienic.
"Like you." Ivan said.
"Oh?" Alfred gave him a pained grin. He rocked on his heels.
Ivan approached him. They looked at each other for a long time. Ivan bent slightly, his eyelids lowering. Alfred felt as though a string attached to his neck was pulling him forwards. Their lips met.
. . .
9:50 pm
Alfred wandered the streets, trying not to glower at the other couples. Why did the universe choose to be so cruel to him? Did he commit some heinous evil? What could he have done? He kicked an empty bottle out from under him. It rattled off into the distance, hitting the heel of a smooching couple.
Why? Why? Why?
. . .
Midnight
Alfred held Ivan's hand against his bare chest. His heart raced in his chest like a wild bird trying to escape. He panted slightly, grinning with absolute bliss. He was afraid to open his eyes and find Ivan was either not there or bored out of his mind.
Finally, he did it.
He pried one eye open and stared at Ivan. Ivan was smiling wildly. He looked back at Alfred. He climbed over him and placed his lips again for another kiss and another and another. Alfred laughed and threw his arms around Ivan.
It was perfect. How could the universe be so kind? He kissed Ivan's cheek and held him close, never wanting to let go on the off chance that he would slip away.
. . .
Midnight
Alfred stood on top of the hill, staring at the crowded skies, feeling at home with the stars and yet completely, horribly lonely.
I do not own Hetalia.