[NOTES AND SCHTUFF] Hey there, it's McBuscus here! Here's my first not only PruCan story, but submition here on ! HOORAY! I'M ONE YEARS OLD! :DDDD Any way, disclaimers here. I do not own the characters; I am merely borrowing them for a work of literature. Hetalia and all of its characters belong to its' respectable owner, Hidekaz Himaruya, and with that... I leave you with the warning.

[WARNINGS...?] Contains: Yaoi; angst, personified countries, and... uh... adult language. If you are not comfortable with such things, please don't waste your time reading this, and uh... Go away plez. I leave you with this dose of EPICOSITY.

Invisible Tears.

I sat in the bathroom, with the knife balanced on my leg as I sat on the wall of the tub. I was tired of being ignored. Unacknowledged. Alone. Treated like a doormat for fuck's sake, just there for everyone to walk over. I mean, Gilbert was always at Ludwig's house, so he never saw me as well. To make matters worse, my own BROTHER barely knows I even exist. And when he DOES have the balls to talk to me, my face usually ends up getting destroyed. But that's all about to change.

I left a note on the front door, just in case Gilbert decided to come home in the early morning hours. Probably drunk off his ass. I carefully picked the knife up, lightly grasping the handle. I started with one light slice on the left wrist.

"G-GAH!" I exclaimed, feeling the stinging from the wound pulsate and pound as blood trickled down from the slit.

Another slit on the wrist. I felt my tears fall from my eyes and hit the cuts, stinging them even worse and causing even more pain. But pain was what I was so used to after all, right?

I ended up cutting 19 times on my left wrist. One slit for each godforsaken year that I've been invisible. I held the blood-stained blade to my stomach, but as soon as I pressed the knife against the blood-red sweatshirt fabric, there was a horrifyingly loud crash that bursted into the bathroom.

"MATTHEW!" Gilbert screamed, gaping in horror at the seas of blood at my feet, the wounds that labeled my wrists, and the blood smeared on my face because of my crying.

"Gilbert! You're home!" I bursted into tears yet once again, because I was reminded of the loneliness that I had faced when he was absent. He ran down beside me, and roughly pulled the knife from my shaking hands.

"Mattie! Vat ze fuck are you doing?" Gilbert yelled, pulling my wrist forward. I screamed in pain as the cuts were stretched out, and the harsh pull only made the bleeding worse.

"G-Gil! Don't do that!" I yelped, my breathing ceased due to my intense crying. He looked down at me, and for the first time... Those devious, fiery red eyes of his were filled with tears.

"Mattie! I don't understand! Vy vould you do zis?" Gilbert whimpered shakily, grabbing a large bath towel to compress the wounds.

"I-I was sick of being invisible... Alone. Unacknowledged. Ignored... A fucking DOORMAT for everyone to just trample over." I looked up at him, my entire body shaking.

"Vy do you think zat you are alone and invisible?" He smiled very solemnly, laughing quietly in a tone that matched his expression.

"B-because every night, before I fall asleep, I pray to GOD that you come home. But you never do. My BROTHER doesn't even know I exist! And honestly, that's a hell of a lot better than what happens when he DOES acknowledge my existence." I whimpered, burying my face into his shoulder. Gilbert's entire body seemed to wilt and droop for a brief moment, before he whispered,

"I never knew you felt zat vay... I'm sorry I haven't been home... Ludwig has been extremely ill, and I would have liked to have been by his side ven he recovered..." Gilbert frowned.
I looked up, a somber yet terrified expression plastered on my still blood-streaked face. "I-I'm so sorry... I wish I would have known..." I gave him a soft hug.

"Ze feeling is mutual... I vish zat I knew zat you felt that vay. I vould have never left your side. Fuck, I could have even taken you with me to Germany!" Gilbert pulled away to wipe my face with the towel.

I looked up, blushing faintly, and I kissed him. I KISSED him. Out of condolence. Out of closure. Out of compassion, out of sympathy, out of grief. Out of love.

He and I must have kissed for about 6 minutes, with breaths in between... Although... Even though I loved him, I still would have wished that our first kiss wasn't after a suicide attempt.

"Gilbert... I love you... I love the way you treat me. You're so good to me... You wouldn't let anything happen to me. You actually care about me." I frowned, nuzzling into his shoulder.

"I love you so much, Matthew... I feel like the world is always at peace when I see you smile... I feel like you're the most precious treasure in the world, and I need to protect you with my life."

And I suppose we both thought that. One way or another.

Fin.