It was two in the morning.
Two.
And there sat a semi-drunk young man by the name of Matthew, drowning in his own tears and choking on hiccups. "A-Arthur..." He sobbed, throwing his arms around my torso loosely, which I really did not mind. His pretty, glittering blue eyes stared back at me. He looked ridiculously sad, enough to shatter my heart to bits. My shirt was growing wet due to the fact that his face was nuzzled into my shoulder, and he refused to stop crying. "Babe...".
Oh dear. What did I just call him?
My fingers wandered to his soft blonde hair, trailing across silken strands."I g-gave m-my all t-to him..." He whispered against the fabric of said shirt. My heart melted. "I know, sweetheart."
...What is it with me and pet names?
"He...H-he was e-everything to m-me, Arthur..." I wrapped my arms around his shoulders. We were now in an embrace, and damn did it feel good. That didn't change the current situation; however, he had quieted down considerably. I stroked the side of his face, not sure exactly what I was doing. It was hard to keep the situation "PG-rated"; as heartbroken and semi-drunk as he was, he looked irresistible. I knew I loved him, but there was something nibbling at the back of my head telling me to wait.
Wait, wait, wait, wait.
Why? I want him now. I really love him. God, do I love him.
"It'll be okay. Matthew, It'll be okay." He nodded, very slowly, as if he doubted me. "Gilbert didn't deserve you. You're a wonderful, amazing nation, you know that? You're sweet, and you have a big heart. You make everyone smile, even countries that don't like anyone. Matthew..." His watery eyes filled with crystalline tears grew wide. "...the person you've been looking for is right here. I love you."
I am an idiot.
A huge, retarded, son of a-
-And he kissed me. He leaned up and kissed me. His lips softly pressed into mine; I tasted the salty tears on them, and I yearned for more. We stayed like this until his mouth parted, inviting me in. I carefully slipped my tongue into the crevice of his lips and we grew ever closer, my hand somehow finding its way to his bottom.
Now, when you kiss someone, it's like time around you freezes and the only thing that matters is him, and you, and how amazing the moment is. Some things don't make sense, but you think, "Hey, it doesn't matter, because only we do." This was a perfect example. My fingers were massaging his bottom, and I really didn't care. He, on the other hand,definitely cared; I could tell because he moaned softly against my mouth and slid his hips back a little, signaling that he wanted more.
And I was going to give that to him.
All of it.