Author's Note: Please don't shoot me, or I'll diiiiiiieeee~
Hello there, how are you today? Oh, looking for a new USUK fanfic to read. Well, you've come to the right place, now haven't you?
Title: With love, Arthur
Summary: Alfred had every right to be confused. It wasn't every day that you found a letter addressed to yourself from your best friend, confessing their love, right? It seemed Arthur had secrets, but is he really the only one?
Rating: Whatever dude. I seriously don't even care.
Pairings: I forgot. What is it again?
Warnings and Disclaimer: Weeeeeelll~ cursing, smut, confusion, yaoi and LIMESLIMESLIMES! I don't own Hetalia in any shape or form. Therefore, I make no profit.
Dear Alfred,
So, here it is, you git. You seemed so eager for me to write a letter to you, even though there is a perfectly good and working phone two metres from the kitchen, which is probably where you are, stuffing your face with food and wondering when you're going to receive my letter. I know I can be one to disappoint at times, but I suppose writing a single letter to you wouldn't hurt, right?
I'm not quite sure what you would like me to tell you. Life is still boring since Graduation. Work is going fine. Peter is being a pain in the arse as usual, but it's nothing I can't handle. Francis is being, well, Francis. Only, this time he won't shut up about his new girlfriend. Knowing him though, it won't last long. You'd agree.
Lilli came by today. She says we should definitely catch up, because she would hate to lose contact with me just because school's out. She misses you too. 'That annoying and loud brat' she said, but she'd never say it to your face. The good news is, she has finally decided to go back to her family in Liechtenstein and see a chancellor. All thanks to you, of course. If you hadn't told her that she had to stop blaming herself, then she would be nothing but a mess. She misses you. We all kind of do.
I miss you.
A lot.
I know it's only been a month, but I'm sick of all the quietness around here. I know I'm probably stroking your ego way to much right now, but, considering I'm never actually going to send this letter, then, I guess it doesn't really matter, right?
God, I miss you.
I'm so hopeless, right? I hate you for moving away. It was good, that you went back to be with your family. I'm happy for you. But, I feel so useless without you around. You know, I never really noticed it until you finally really left me, but I think I might love you. You know what I mean?
I think I'm in love with you.
Doesn't matter though, does it? You're not gay, and, even if you were, I wouldn't expect you to return my love. Who would? I just wanted you to know, ok? I feel silly, writing this letter like you're actually going to receive it. I had to tell you. It was driving me crazy.
Sorry, I'm no good at writing letters.
Remember that time when you were teaching us how to play 'proper' football, and we tripped over each other? You were so close, mere inches away, and all I wanted to do was kiss you, right there and then. I didn't care that Lilli or Kiku were right there, I just wanted to wrap you in my arms and kiss the heck out of you. God, I sound so goddamn girly, right? Doesn't matter anyway.
I don't know what else there is to say. I guess I'll see you in a year at Christmas? Maybe. I'll call you, ok? Even if you do complain that you want to write letters because it sounds cool, I'll always call you and remind you how lame and stupid and girly that is, because I know that you know that I don't really mean it.
Write back soon, ok love?
With love,
Arthur
And the world came crashing down.
The dust bunnies were gone. The blond stood there with a duster in one hand and the letter in the other. There was a rather large shoe box by his crossed legs full of envelopes that were never sent, never sealed. A green one lay on top, empty as the blond ran his eyes once again across the page.
The closet had obviously never been cleaned since the occupant had moved in. Various items had been shoved in there, but nothing of real value. Not really.
Excpet the letters.
Alfred didn't mind pawing through his best friends stuff. His best friend didn't even mind, didn't care. Sure, he just reminded Alfred what a pain he was and told hijm to clean up his mess. But he never got angry; he never had anything to hide.
Until now.
Feeling bad for being such a nuisances, Alfred had taken it upon himself to clear out and clean his best friends room while he was out grabbing a couple of snacks for the epic movie they were just about to have. He'd already made the bed, vacuumed the hallway and bedroom and organized the desk. He was unsure whether he should've just left the closet and gone back out into the small living room to wait for his mate. But, of course, feeling bad once again, he set to work with the duster.
Now, he wasn't sure whether he had just made the biggest mistake of his life.
Alfred bit his lip and re-read the letter for the third time, his sky blue eyes pausing where the words 'with love, Arthur' were scrawled neatly across the page in his best friend's handwriting. His heart beat erratically in his ears, blocking out all the sounds from the busy street below. His mouth was dry as he bit his lip and thought for a second.
Oh my god, he loves me? He's actually in love with me.
Alfred stared at the piece of paper like it was instructions on how to be a superhero. His mind raced, but he couldn't quite understand what he was thinking.
Hang on a sec, hang on a sec, this can't be right. This is a joke. Arthur doesn't-… He wouldn't. He isn't like that.
Is he? This could all be a big joke, couldn't it? He already knew the answer. Arthur wouldn't pull of a prank like this. Not where love was concerned. Arthur would be repulsed at the very idea of being in love with Alfred, every one knew that.
But he didn't understand. His mind was a mess.
'I think I'm in love with you'
No, that's a silly thign to think. Arthur? In love with Alfred? Pfft, as if! Right?
The sound of a door being opened and then closed was what snapped Alfred back to reality. He looked to the closed door, hearing a certain Englishman calling his name. Alfred quickly shoved the letter back in the envelope, his heart still beating like crazy, and put it back at the very back of the box, quickly shoving that as well right to the wall of the closet. He stood and dusted his pants off, feeling his face heat up. "I'm in here," he called out when his name was shouted once again. A second later the door opened and Arthur stepped in, frowning.
"What the heck are you doing?" He asked, his eyes gliding from Alfred, to the spotless room. His eyebrows shot up as he noticed the difference, and the duster in the blond's hand.
"Alfred…"
But he said nothing. The younger blond simply shrugged, trying to smile. There was only one thing on his mind.
Arthur Kirkland loves me.
~To Be Continued~
The actually setting when Alfred is reading the letter is a year or two after their graduation from high school, as you could probably tell. More will be explained in the next chapter, I swear.
I regret nothing…
A review would be lovely.