Oneshot. Hetaverse. PruHun. Implied character death (under the assumption that Gilbert died after the German reunification due to the dissolution of East Germany).
A/N: It's been chaotic busy for me lately, so I haven't had the chance to write half as much as I would like. Now when I do, I'm beginning to think it's obvious that one can see I've been reading romantic works like Frankenstein.
It was early October, and Elizabeta was curled into her favorite armchair, knees bent and legs tucked under her until her feet tingled. Though her gaze was focused on the window, she saw nothing, staring blankly out at the unsuspecting fields once sown with steel and blood. She wondered how many years had passed, how long she had waited fruitlessly for the return of an old friend who had faded from her life only to retreat to yellowing pages of history.
A tear curled her eyelashes down toward her cheek, heavy with loss and salty regret. On nights like these, the beautiful Hungarian chose to simply sit and watch the sky grow black until the familiar nightlights of a shared childhood flickered to life, bringing with them bittersweet memories of close companionship. Tonight, however, the scene beyond the glass was tinted a dark purple-gray by the stormy underbellies of the rain clouds. It was hideous, but somehow she felt satisfaction swelling to fill her empty chest cavity – on this date, the world had no right to be beautiful. Not when her hollow heart was as mournful as the cold precipitation calling across her beloved territories. Even nestled before the crackling fire, she could not dispel the icy grief tearing into her. The planet did not deserve to see peaceful, star-filled nights when she was still in such agony.
Suddenly, Elizabeta blinked. A pair of ruby-bright eyes was peering in through the glass at her, set tauntingly above a perky nose and a confident grin. She felt her breath lodge itself in her throat as the child gestured to her to join him outside, laughter etched into his features. Feet prickling with the pins and needles of bloodlessness, she rushed across the room and threw open the window.
"Gilbert!"
"You comin' or what?" he was asking, stepping back from the house and out from under the overhang of the roof. The rain plastered his fair hair to his scalp, the white tunic slicked to his flesh and chainmail. "Not afraid of a little mud, are you?"
As though in a daze, she crawled through the window and into the grasp of nature where she was assaulted by the cool, moist air. Gilbert snatched up her hand almost immediately, small fingers gripping it so tightly that he might have never released it again.
"Why're you moping, huh?" The young knight fixed his eyes upon her, glittering with playful curiosity. "It's not 'cuz it's raining, is it? That's never stopped you before."
"You… know what today is?"
"German Unity?" He shrugged. "So?"
"East Germany stopped existing a long time ago."
"I'm notEast Germany."
"And Prussia…"
"I'm not Prussia right now, am I?" Smirking, he led Elizabeta out into the empty field and grasped her other hand. "Nah, actually I just thought this would be nostalgic."
They twirled silently, feet sinking into the wet earth as they were soaked by the generous raindrops being shed upon them by the nebulous heavens.
"It's too quiet here without you," the brunette whispered, watching Gilbert's child self smiling up at her. She wanted so badly to be that same age so that things could return to the way they had been so many centuries ago. Instead, time continued forward, separating the two by spans of first seconds, then minutes, then hours, days, weeks, months, and years.
Sensing her pause, he reached up on tiptoes to brush her hair back behind her ear. "I miss you, too, Liz."
Elizabeta held her breath at the gesture. He had taken to doing this while they had been trapped within a merciless Soviet Prison in a time that he had reeked of booze and defeat. Now the action was deliberate and focused, filled with tender affection.
"You ass, making me tear up like this." Her laughter was sad, accompanied by the glittering droplets that warmed her chilled flesh as they slid down her cheeks and off her chin. "You… Gilbert, you…"
"I know."
When she opened her eyes, he was standing before her as she had seen him last: an adult by human reckoning with a smug sneer at his lips. However, he also looked much improved from their last encounter when his face had been hollowed and bruised, and he had moved with the cautious gait of one who is constantly in pain.
"It seems that dissolution suits you." The words had not been intended to sound so harsh, in fact, they had not been intended to roll off her tongue at all. But they had, and she watched as the ex-kingdom's expression faltered and darkened.
"Not as well existing," he muttered tetchily, stuffing his hands into his trouser pockets as he often had to hide his emotional awkwardness.
"I'm sorry."
"You were only telling the truth."
"Gilbert…"
He sulked, self-esteem momentarily failing as he kicked at the water-logged dirt. In that moment, it was as though nothing had changed. Knowing how to restore his usual character, Elizabeta stepped forward and drew a hand from its cloth dwelling place and into her own. After his usual hesitation, he laced their fingers and leaned his head against the top of hers.
"You know I can't stand seeing you so damned upset, right?" His jaw grazed her brow as he spoke, murmuring closer to her ear. "Just let it go – I'm fine."
"I can't help it." She was getting worked up again, the boiling hot of the tears contrasting so sharply with the frigid chill of the night. "It's just that you…"
"I'm always watching you, ya nut. It's not like I'm burning in hell or some crazy shit like that."
"But-"
"You nations these days are pretty permanent, aren't you?" As usual, his careful observations had correctly identified the burden heaped upon her shoulders. Seeing her nod, he squeezed her palm closer to his and kissed her temple. "Enjoy your life, Liz. There's not reason to be rushing out to meet me – I'm not that important."
A chuckle that sounded strangely like a sob crept from her throat. "The mighty Prussia just called himself unimportant? If that's not a sign of the apocalypse…"
"I'm being serious and all you can do is laugh at me?" Adopting an expression of mock horror, Gilbert slowly released his hold on her hand and took a small step back. "And after I gave you such awesome advice."
She leapt forward, looping her arms around his neck and shoulders, knowing that their time together was rapidly ticking to an end. "You know I love you, right?"
"I know." With a pained grin and a tight embrace, he whispered, "And I love you, too."
Elizabeta awoke with swollen eyes and dampened cheeks, blinking slowly to realize that she was still seated in her armchair. The fire had long been reduced to embers, and the room was as warm as wool around her, but she still drew her blanket in closer. Stretching numbed legs, she wiped away the final evidences of her heartache and began her journey to her room.
Perhaps in the morning she would find the cross lying on the side table beside her choice perch, and start crying again, clutching it to her chest. It was cruel of him to do such things to her, he knew, but even still he recognized that it would be impossible for him to leave her alone. Even if her nation lasted forever, he would wait until they could stand before each other and exist in the same plane of reality once more.