Unrequited Love

by Warblerpuff

"The feeling of loving someone and them not understanding how deep your feelings actually are is probably more heartbreaking then having someone who leaves you." -Slightly inspired by 'Unrequited Love' by Lykke Li.

Title: Unrequited Love

Pairing: USUK

Rating: T

Warnings: Accidental Francis hate. (I do like him! It just needed to be done here. Sorry, Francis. I made you out to be the bad guy.) Angst. Cheesy moments. My spell check is being mean, so there may be typos.

Summary: "The feeling of loving someone and them not understanding how deep your feelings actually are is probably more heartbreaking then having someone who leaves you." -Slightly inspired by 'Unrequited Love' by Lykke Li. I just had a tiny picture of this pop into my head and I had to put it on paper. Er, keyboard? Yeah...?

Also: Human names used only. So, you can take this as part of Hetalia or even an AU. It's up to the reader. And, though this is not the first USUK I've written, it is the first I've published. So, I'm a bit nervous about this.

Also again: This is meant to be repetitive. I did this on purpose.

Alright, enough stalling. Enjoy.

---

Alfred sighed and prepared himself silently as he stepped towards the door.
He didn't want to answer it.
He didn't want to deal with it.
He didn't want to see the look on Arthur's face that had permanently taken place.
He didn't want to feel heartbroken again.
He just wanted to ignore Arthur and never open his door again.

Lately, this had become a usual thing.

Alfred was sure Arthur had to have another friend. He had to. So, why did he keep coming to Alfred?
Couldn't he possibly talk to someone else?
Someone who didn't love him the way Alfred did.
Someone who could just listen without wanting to break down with him.
Anyone? Wasn't there anyone else?

Apparently not, Alfred figured.
Apparently he has to be the one to hear Arthur so heartbroken and lonely.
Apparently he had to be the one to tell him it was going to be alright.
And, yet, apparently, Francis was better than Alfred. Somehow.

Although, wasn't Francis the one who kept playing with Arthur's apparently fragile heart?
Wasn't he the one who reduced Arthur to tears again and again?
Why wasn't he the one to pick up the pieces?
Why the hell was it Alfred?

More importantly, why was Alfred opening the door again?
Why wouldn't he ignore it?
Why couldn't he ignore it?

And, just as he thought, on the other side was Arthur. Standing there, near tears again, looking even worse than usual. Alfred didn't think he possibly could. Though, he had looked worse and worse each time Alfred saw him.

Arthur stood there looking worn down and depressed. And Alfred knew why. It was always the same.

Alfred tried to suppress his own heartbreak as he let Arthur fall into his arms.

Arthur had kept it together as long as he could, and he knew, as soon as he saw Alfred, he knew he wouldn't be able to last any longer. So, once Alfred wrapped his arms tightly around him, he couldn't even try to stop the tears from pouring out.

Alfred sighed at the painfully familiar feeling of Arthur crying into his chest. He moved to kick the door close and make his way to the couch while trying to keep Arthur close to his body. Once they had sat down, Arthur tried all he could to stop crying. He really did. But, somehow it made him cry more.

No words had yet been spoken, because, lately, this had become a usual thing, and no words were needed. They both knew what was going on. Alfred figured Francis had done something dumb again, and Arthur knew the only thing on the earth that made him feel better was Alfred.

So, Alfred just stroked Arthur's hair, trying to calm him. He said meaningless phrases like "It's okay.", "I'm here.", and "It's all gonna be fine.". He even caught himself muttering things like "He's an idiot.", "Forget about him.", "You don't need to cry over him, Arthur."

Alfred kept sitting there with him, close to his own tears. He hated to see Arthur so upset. But, even more, he hated the feeling that gnawed at him, like it was eating his heart. He hated feeling like Arthur looked, how Arthur felt.

The feeling of loving someone and them not understanding how deep your feelings actually are is probably more heartbreaking then having someone who leaves you.

Alfred thought so at least. And Arthur had said it himself last time they were like this.

Alfred could nearly laugh at the irony of the situation.
He loved Arthur. He loved him with all of his heart. With everything. He loved Arthur.
But, Arthur loved Francis, didn't he? He didn't love Alfred. He had someone else to love.

He felt some form of shock when he heard Arthur's crying stop and then the sound of him speaking softly. "It's just not fair."

Alfred paused his actions for a moment and stared down at the man practically laying on his chest. He resumed the stroking of Arthur's hair and nodded. "Then just...forget about him." Alfred suggested. Wouldn't that be wonderful? If only Arthur would forget about Francis. If only he would stop loving him and love Alfred instead. Wouldn't that be wonderful?

Jealousy didn't work for Alfred. Sometimes he forgot about others happiness when he was dying for his own.

"I can't." Arthur said weakly. He buried his head in Alfred's T-shirt. "I...I love him."

Alfred felt actual pain flow in him. It was like a shot through his chest every time Arthur said he loved Francis. He had to turn his head and close his eyes to make sure the tears that started to sting his eyes were not seen. He tried to breathe and shake the anger, hurt and sad feelings away. It didn't work very well. But, after a silent minute, he just whispered a reply of "I know."

Arthur sat up attempted to calm himself down. He looked over at his friend and tried to read his facial expression. He didn't know how to take it. He'd never seen Alfred wear that expression. He looked almost like Arthur felt.
He sniffed quietly and sighed. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry I keep coming over here and end up losing my bloody control and cry on your shoulder. I'm..."

"Don't be." Alfred replied in a hushed tone. "You don't need to be. You're my friend, Arthur. And I..." love you? It wasn't the time for love confessions! Not now! He swallowed and shook his head. "I just don't like seeing you upset." He took a breath and didn't really realize that what he was about to say. He just let his thoughts slightly run through his mouth. "I don't get why you keep going back to him. He doesn't get how you feel. You said that yourself. He just keeps living his life and has no idea that you love him. Really love him...like nothing in the world. Why can't you find someone else? Someone who will make you happy, and not cause you so much pain?" Alfred realized he stopped talking to Arthur a while ago. He was now just talking to himself.

Arthur laughed humorlessly. "And where will I ever find someone to love-crazy old-me?" He looked down at his feet and silence fell again.

"Believe me," Alfred said, a minute later. "The love your looking for is closer than you think."

And then Arthur looked at him and Alfred felt a feeling of fear and hope bubble up in his chest as he looked into those green eyes. Did Arthur figure out what that meant? Had he realized that Alfred loved him? Had Alfred said too much? Just as Alfred started to feel hopeful for something he didn't think he was ready for, it all died. Arthur looked away and sighed again. "I doubt it. I just...what if Francis is it? What if...if he's the only one who will..."

And now, with the hope dying quickly and the hurt coming right back, Alfred looked away, feeling anger running through his veins. "You said yourself, he's only using you for sex. You also said he'd never get how deeply you love him, and that he's careless and how he toys with your emotions like you mean nothing. And-and, maybe to him, you don't." Alfred said, angrily. He wished he hadn't turned to look at Arthur when he finished. He knew he had caused the pained expression on his face. So, he continued, trying to sooth the hurtful comment away. "But, you know...you mean a lot to other people. You do. More than you know. You mean so much, Arthur." And now, Alfred knew he was saying too much for this situation. But, he didn't know what else to say. So, he took Arthur's hand and tried to think.
But he couldn't, could he? No.

Not with those green eyes staring at him.
Not with Arthur's hand in his.
Not with the two of them being so close.
No, Alfred simply couldn't think.

So, maybe that's why he leaned in closer to Arthur.
Maybe that's why he ran his free hand softly over Arthur's cheek.
Maybe that's why he let his hand grasp Arthur gently by the back of the neck.
Maybe that's why he didn't seem to listen when Arthur asked him what the hell he was doing.
No, Alfred didn't think.

And without thinking, with only feeling, -with only feeling the anger in his veins, and the hurt in his heart and the sadness that overtook him every time he looked at Arthur's brokenhearted expression,- he did all he could do.
He closed the distance between he and Arthur and pressed his lips gently to the other's. And suddenly, everything was different.

Everything was different because Arthur returned the kiss.

And then, Alfred lost himself.

Without thinking, only feeling, only feeling the tears in his eyes that were different than the ones from earlier, the slight healing in his heart, the happiness that overtook him when Arthur wrapped his arms around Alfred.

For a moment, everything was different.
For a moment, Alfred felt whole.
For a moment, he forgot everything bad and only knew everything that was Arthur.

And then the moment was over. And Alfred had pulled away. He looked at Arthur with a grin that he knew the other would usually call him an "arrogant wanker" for. He couldn't help the pace he was breathing at. He just kept grinning while he tried to catch his breath, while he stared into those green eyes, and made sure he kept as close as he could to Arthur, he made sure he kept track of every detail, as if this moment were going to disappear.

Arthur sighed, he hadn't known.
He never had the slightest clue.
He never picked up on the hints.
He never saw the way Alfred smiled at him.
He never knew how much he meant to Alfred.

But, now he had a slight idea.

The only problem being, he didn't know if he could reciprocate the feeling.

He cared about Alfred, yes.
Good God, he cared about Alfred.

He considered the annoying American to be his best friend, although he'd never admit it.

But, then there was Francis.
Francis, who he loved dearly.
Francis, who broke his heart again and again.
Francis, who would say he loved Arthur and never mean it.
Francis, who was not good for Arthur.
Yes, then there was Francis.

Arthur was lost inside, he didn't know what to do or what to say. Absolutely lost.
He just looked at Alfred, who was wearing a cocky grin, and looking at Arthur the way he almost always had: with pure adoration written on his face.
Why didn't Arthur see it untul now?

Arthur looked down, not able to handle the gaze anymore. "Alfred..." He breathed. "I'm sorry. I didn't know you felt...that way." He didn't seem to be able to look back up at Alfred. He was too lost still.

Alfred nodded and rubbed Arthur's hand with his thumb. "I know. I tried to not show it. I-I'm sorry. I am. I know you love Francis. I just...I lost it. I stopped seeing clear and let my emotions take over. But, Arthur, I..." He paused and wondered how far he could go. He had already kissed him. Could three words make anything worse? They couldn't! No way could they hurt worse. "I love you."

And then Arthur's head snapped up and his green eyes locked with Alfred's impossibly blue. "You...what? W-why?"

"I love you." Alfred repeated. Finally saying those words felt like he had been holding his breath forever and now he could finally breathe. "And...because, because you're you. Because you're cute and you like tea and you yell at me when I'm dumb, but you always hang out with me and put up with me and you help me get through everyday and because you're beautiful and smarter than anyone I've ever met. And because...because you're Arthur Kirkland, and nothing else matters." Alfred poured his heart out without meaning to.

"Alfred, I think you've gone crazy." Arthur shook his head, not knowing how to take this.

Alfred flashed him that cocky grin once more, "If I've gone crazy, it's only for you." Why wasn't he thinking tonight? Why wasn't he stopping himself?

Arthur looked at him, pleading him silently to stay serious. He knew that he meant well, but this was a lot to take in. One second, he was arguing with Francis and the next, Alfred had kissed him and told him he loved him. And there was a small part of him that thought that was too good to be true. Every time he heard "I love you" it was nothing. It was a way for Francis to get him into bed or get something else he wanted. He'd never heard it be said so genuinely.

Arthur just sat there for a moment.
Looking into those beautiful blue eyes of Alfred's.
They were honest, and courageous, and gorgeous.

How long have they been that blue?
How long have they been so full of love?
How long have they been staring into Arthur's?
It felt like hours now, though it had only been a minute.

But, he was captivated. He felt something he hadn't in a long time. And he didn't like it.

The feeling itself would normally be pleasant.
Who didn't enjoy the butterflies in their stomach?
Their heart beat quickening slightly.
That blasted "warm and fuzzy" feeling?
That stupid feeling.
Who didn't want that?

But, this was Alfred.
Arthur should not feel that for him. They had too much bad history. And, sometimes it felt like all they did was argue.
But through it all, they did come to each other when they needed someone.
They did usually enjoy each other's presence.
They did seem to be best friends, although both really would never say it to the other.

But, no, he didn't love Alfred.
He couldn't love Alfred.
He wouldn't love Alfred.

After all, he loved Francis.
He had said that so many times...how much did he mean it?

No, that was not the time to start second guessing love.

Suddenly, Arthur had to look away from those blue eyes staring at him admiringly.
He couldn't sit here any longer.
He knew he had to leave before he did something he regretted.

So, he looked back at Alfred, who seemed to be starting to lose confidence at a rapid pace. He practically deflated. Arthur wish he could return his feelings. To at least make the American smile again. But he couldn't...could he?
No. He wouldn't.

So, he stood up. And tried to think of something to say. But, the only things on his mind were leaving and making Alfred smile again. He knew there was no way to do both. So, in the back of his mind, he decided to just go with the selfish, safer option. He just said quietly what half of his brain was screaming. "I...I have to go."

"...shit." Alfred turned away from Arthur and sighed. "I'm sorry, Arthur. I really am. I shouldn't have...but, I mean. I stopped thinking." He tried not to, but ended up reaching out and taking Arthur's hand once more.

Arthur looked back at him, and noticed those cerulean eyes locked with his again. "Alfred, I'm sorry, I do have to-"

"I know. I know, you don't feel the same as I do." Then his hand slowly let Arthur's go, and his eyes searched for anything other than Atrhur's.

"I wish I did." If only he did. He could make Alfred smile again. He'd do nearly anything to get the hurt look off his face.

Although, he wondered if he could anyway. He wondered if he could let himself let go and just return the feeling.
He knew saying he didn't love Alfred would be untrue. Because, he wasn't sure.
He felt love.
But, he wouldn't allow himself to express it.

His brain seemed to be having an argument with itself.
And he was stuck in the middle.

"Me too." Alfred said and hoped Arthur didn't hear the tears that he was trying to hard to fight. "But, I get it, you don't. And you love Francis. I just can't understand why."

And Arthur couldn't understand either. What had Francis done to earn these feelings? What was so great about getting his heart broke all the time.
He started to wonder, why did he mean so much? When Alfred was here, and he wasn't fake.
He wasn't deceitful.
He wasn't heartbreaking.
He was only everything Francis wasn't.

Alfred sighed. " But, I know you do love him." he continued. "So, I'm sorry I feel this way, and I'm sorry I kissed you. And...I'll back off." He looked at Arthur with such a serious look Arthur barely recognized him. "If he ever hurts you again, if I ever see you cry because of him again, or feel the way you've felt lately because of him, I'm gonna have to kick his ass." He said angrily. "Weather or not I'm in love with you, I do care about you, and I don't want to see you hurt like this again. Alright? I know you don't do it a lot anyways, but...I just like it when you smile."

And now Arthur knew he was foolish.
Because no one has ever cared about him this much.
And he couldn't let himself return it. But why? What was he afraid of?
Maybe it was heartbreak he feared. He'd surely gone through enough of it in his life.
Maybe he'd grown used to the situation he found himself in with Francis.
Maybe he was just simply foolish.

But, he couldn't feel that way.
So, he didn't let himself think about it any longer.

"Alfred," he said, quietly. "I like it when you smile, too. But, I'm sorry..." he trailed off not knowing what came next. He figured an exit was in order now. He couldn't look at those blue eyes anymore without restarting his whole rethinking process. "I-I should go."

And with that, Alfred watched Arthur leave. He watched as his love walked out of his life.

Everything would be different now. Because Alfred stopped thinking. Arthur would never see him the same again.

He ruined the friendship he loved most. Nothing else was like it.

Nothing was like the time he spent with Arthur.
It didn't matter if they were arguing. Because eventually they made up.
It didn't matter if Alfred was begging Arthur to play a video game with him. He usually gave in.
It didn't matter if Arthur was yelling at him for something he did wrong. Or what Arthur deemed wrong, that is.
It didn't matter if the insults were flying or if they were laughing together in places no one would see.
Each minute they spent together was the best time of Alfred's life. And now, it all went away.

He was so dumb, he shouldn't of kissed Arthur.
He was so stupid, he shouldn't have told him how he felt.
He was so idiotic to think for a second that Arthur could return those feelings.
Why didn't he think?

And now he was lonely.

Maybe that's how it was meant to be.
Perhaps Arthur wasn't meant to love him back.
He would just carry on with Francis and Alfred would be alone.
And, he'd just have to get used to being alone.
He'd have to get used to being without Arthur.

Maybe that's how it was mean to be.