Author's Note:
Thanks for reading this story! Since his arrival, Netherlands/Belgium has been one of my favorite pairings (though I equally love Prussia/Belgium). This is slight AU, in that they're all just humans. Also, the only one with a name in this story is Clara, also known as Belgium. That's the only name you need to know. The "brother" that continually appears in the Netherlands. Also, this is no way supposed to be offensive to fans of other Belgium pairings. I like Belgium/everyone, so it's all cool with ne,
Pairings: Netherlands/Belgium (main). There are mentions of: Spain/Romano, Belgium/France, Seychelles/France/Monaco, Belgium/Prussia, Belgium/Germany, Belgium/Austria, Belgium/Hungary, Belgium/Canada, Belgium/Cuba, Canada/Cuba, Belgium/Australia, Belgium/England, Belgium/Estonia (it's historically accurate!), Austria/Hungary, Switzerland/Liechtenstein, and Belgium/Switzerland.
W A S H A W A Y
"Girl, you haven't got time. You gotta get out, go far away."
Witchcraft, Pendulum
Clara is his sister. Well, not by blood exactly, but their parents wanted them to act like it, so the two of them quickly fell into their careful positions. She, along with her younger brother, and himself are siblings.
And that's why all of this is just oh so wrong.
Clara's been in love before. Oh, god, Clara knows about love. All throughout her late high school and college years, she was with the same guy. The man, who the brother only remembered as the cheerful Spaniard, had his face always bright with optimism and whatnot (and was completely disgusting for the brother). Clara and the Spaniard were together for freakin' eight years (an eternity).
That was, before, the day when the Spaniard announced that he was gay to Clara, and ran off to the south of Europe with an Italian five years younger than himself.
Clara was completely B R O K E N by this. She went out to the local bar every single night, and only came home to the apartment that the siblings shared when she ran out of money for beer. That was, until she met her second true love- the Frenchman. He took her out to great and wonderful places, bought her the best wine, and treated her like a doll. And she ate it up like sweet, sweet candy.
That was before that day when Clara realized the difference between the Frenchman's and her ideas of a "relationship" varied greatly; when she found her so-called boyfriend in an all-too compromising position with two other females.
There was another check in the book of people who had broken the brother's sister's heart.
But, Clara, that poor, poor girl, just absolutely refused to give into that shattered soul of hers. She kept falling in and out of love. Clara's other loves included (but weren't necessarily limited to): the Austrian (who was so in love with his music he barely noticed her); the German (who was a harsh contrast to the sister's brightness, and she couldn't handle that well at all); the German's brother (who, while a good drinking buddy, at first, was much, much too insane, and very self-centered); the Canadian (who was too worried about his personal problems to ever even compliment Clara); the Cuban (who ran off with the Canadian within a week); the Australian (who she had a brief fling with before he left the continent of Europe for good); the Englishman (the Australian's older cousin she only dated to get over the Australian); and the Estonian (who lived in building with people that almost forced the girl to move in, and then never let her leave). Clara had even gone through a brief lesbian period after giving up all hope, where she had gone out with an older girl- the Hungarian (who discovered that she too was not a lesbian, and promptly put herself in a relationship with the Austrian).
Clara's latest break-up had occurred with the Swiss. He was a sharp-tonged man with an odd obsession with guns, but the two had shared a deep love for chocolate and beautiful scenery. Unfortunately for Clara, the Swiss, however unconsciously it was, was only using Clara to hide his love for his (albeit, adopted) little sister.
The brother had felt very odd, to say the least, over this break-up. While he despised the Swiss as much as he did all of Clara's other boyfriends (and the Hungarian), he felt weird when Clara was explaining to him the reasons behind her ended relationship.
This, naturally, led the brother to thinking. He had watched Clara fall into and out of love so many times, it was like a running gag. But, each time, he still felt as angry as the first time with the Spaniard every time his sister brought home a new boyfriend. He had then proceeded to sympathize with the Swiss' case. It didn't make any sense to the brother, until he realized something.
The brother liked Clara. As in, he liked, liked her.
Once he realized those feelings, the brother felt his stomach drop out from beneath him. He was her brother. And he liked her. He felt disgusting, and promised- no, swore- to himself that he would never (never) act on those spiraling feelings.
(But, it's a little too late for that, darling.)
She comes back late (oh so late) one night from the local bar. Her hair is a mess, and she can barely stand, and she's crying her strongest, and the brother knows that the Swiss and his sister must have shown up there too.
The brother performs his usual job. He convinces her to drink some water, and then to change into pajamas. He always, always, always stays up for her like this, smoking his pipe as he stares out that ohso cold window waiting for her. Likewise, he always helps her get back on her feet like this. (Though, he knows better than anyone that the only one that can save her from this depression is her future next boyfriend.)
As she crawls into bed, he turns to get some much-needed shut-eye himself. But, he feels her hand grabbing the end of his scarf, so he stops in his tracks, and turns to that (oh-too perfect) girl. She's smiling for the first time in the night, an apologetic face.
"Hey, bro," she starts, a little hesitantly.
"Yes?" he responds, in as much of an apathetic tone as possible.
"Why?" she asks, tilting that mess of (beautiful) gold curls to the side. "Why do you always do so much for me?"
He sighs, because she's asked the same thing so many times before. "Because you're my sister."
"Yeah, I know, I know." She pauses, as if she wants to say more. "H-Hey."
"Yeah?"
Her face is getting red, and he prays she's not getting a cold (because he needs to go into work sometime this week). Finally, after a pregnant silence, she continues.
"L-Lean in closer."
He raises an eyebrow curiously, but doesn't show any more emotions. He leans towards her face.
And this is where it all breaks down.
Because, all of a sudden, her lips are on his, and it feels so right and wonderful and perfect that he can almost forget that it's not.
Once he does remember that it's all just too perfectly wrong, he pushes her away with all of his restraint. Their equally green eyes meet, hers in confusion, his in an inability to look away. She begins to cry, loudly and ugly. The brother worries that the other sibling (oh, right, him) is going to wake, and tries to shush her.
He asks her, "Why would you do that?"
The crying pauses, as she turns to face him. "Huh?"
"Why would you…" he pauses, his once apathetic side completely melting, "Why would you kiss me? Y-You just can't go around kissing people, you know. What if... what if I had taken you seriously? I-I'm not just another boyfriend of yours. W-We're siblings, and you can't just ditch me, a-and…" He needs to leave soon, he decides, because everything he's been working on for all these years is coming crashing down, and he has no idea what he'll say at this point.
The tears stop flowing from his sister's face, and so does all of that despair. "I'm serious."
(And he wants to continue from only that, but there's still that barrier in between him and her.)
"W-We're siblings," he says with a sort of finality, and leaves that room for good. They're related, goddamnit, and he can't do this sort of thing. She will most likely forget about it, and she's drunk, and what will the others think, and what will she think, and he's decided for sure that he's won't give into this dark, dark thoughts. He won't be her next boyfriend, (because he couldn't deal with it if they broke up like all those times beforehand).
And the next morning, when he realizes what an idiot he's being, he goes to her room in that all-too small apartment to apologize, and sees that Clara's disappeared.
(Because, if he isn't going to save her, who else will?)
I sort of hate thing. Bleh. And why did it get so long and winded?
If it gets enough feedback, though, I may do a sequel, or a version in Clara's POV to clear up some things.
Anyways, thanks for reading! Please review!
