So yeah. Been forever since I posted anything, huh? Look, I'm going to be frank. Chances of me updating any of my In-Progress fics are slim to none. I'm sorry, but college and life is just too brutal. I'm lucky I'm going to be writing what I am this month for the Fantasia event on the RusAme comm on LiveJournal. XP
However, in the meantime, enjoy this bittersweet little oneshot. The idea just came to me after listening to "I Told You So" by Carrie Underwood. It's a good song, you should go listen to it. While reading this, better yet. :3
Really, this story could have been the other way around. With Alfred leaving Ivan or Arthur or Arthur leaving Alfred or anything, really. This is just the way events unfolded in my head, so this is the way I wrote it. Sorry if it's not your cup of tea.
Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia in any way, shape, or form, nor do I own the characters. I used human names for this because I felt like it fit the situation better.
Ivan fidgeted nervously as he stood on the doorstep of the old farmhouse, the wood worn and weathered beneath his boots. He could see his breath in the frigid air, but was quite used to the sight and so ignored it. His clothing would likely be considered "light" for the type of weather Ohio was experiencing, but the foot of snow on the ground and above zero temperatures were nothing for him. It was amazing, though, how different America as a whole could look. There had been no snow in the wide deserts of Nevada, nor on the beaches of California as he soared over them.
The sound of buoyant laughter from within the house brought him back to reality, and he drew in a sharp, icy inhale of recognition.
Alfred.
That was why he was there, after all; in America, in this frozen little farmland of a state. Alfred had one home in each of them, all fifty, and tended to move about at will when he wanted a change of scenery. Ivan knew this because he had helped the nation move many times, spent numerous nights in dozens of the homes with Alfred wrapped snugly in his arms. The thought brought back memories; pleasant, beautiful memories that made his heart ache and his throat close up. Because he, Ivan, not Alfred, had thrown all of that away.
The fire crackled gently in the hearth, providing light and warmth for the small log cabin Alfred had built with his own two hands decades and decades ago. He had built it right, and so it kept out the November chill of Montana rather easily. Heat only escaped from the chimney, making the large main room of the house quite toasty and cozy. The fact Ivan had an affectionate American wrapped around him and radiating heat made things near unbearable for the Russian. However, looking down at Alfred's peaceful face in slumber, he simply could not muster up the will to wake him.
He brushed his fingers through the soft, golden locks, the ones that reminded him of the petals of his favorite flower. Eyes bluer than any sky were closed, the frames normally concealing their true beauty resting safely on the wooden coffee table separating the two lovers from the fireplace. Reaching out, Ivan pulled the handmade quilt up a bit closer around Alfred's shoulders, chuckling softly when the nation snuggled into his shoulder more in response.
Ivan let his hand rest comfortably on Alfred's side as they settled down again, free hand coming around to lightly touch those soft lips. The ones he had been kissing only a short while earlier, before Alfred had accidentally dozed off against him after they had lapsed into one of their shared silences. One might joke Alfred was far more bearable during such a time, but Ivan enjoyed the American whether he was rambling or quietly contemplating. He found the fact the American could do both to be endearing, even if the talking could get a bit annoying sometimes.
Leaning down to softly nuzzle Alfred's hair, Ivan sighed and kissed his boyfriend's forehead. "Ya tebya lyublyu, moĭ podsolnechnika..." he murmured, not caring if Alfred heard but hoping he had.
Ivan shook off the memory like a fresh layer of snow, drawing in a tight breath and raising one gloved hand. He paused, however, about a centimeter away from the wood of the door. Was this really a good idea? Ivan was beginning to doubt himself, beginning to question why he was even bothering. He had heard the rumors, the gossip among the other nations.
Alfred had found someone else. Someone new who would not break his heart in two the way he had. The memory alone made him cringe, made him question his sanity the way so many had. Alfred, though... Alfred had given him a chance.
Their relationship had been disintegrating in Ivan's eyes. Alfred simply could not see it, he was too optimistic, too stubborn. Traits the Russian had once found endearing about the American but was now exasperated by. To him, it seemed they fought at least once a day, most of the time about meaningless things. Ivan felt the urge to spend more and more time away from Alfred, their love no longer as enchanted as it used to be.
And besides, nations got together and broke apart all the time, this would be nothing new. But no, to Alfred, it was. It always was.
After their latest fight, the cause of which Ivan could not even remember, he had had enough. "I think we should break up."
Alfred, blond hair mussed, blue eyes wide and wild, stopped to gape at the man in disbelief. He looked shocked, stunned, disbelieving... exactly the way Ivan knew he would. "Wh-what...?"
Ivan sighed. "I think we should break up. You know, separate. I believe people in your country often call it 'seeing other people'?"
Alfred shook his head, the previous emotions melting into even more disbelief and... hurt. Of course. Ivan had expected that, too. "N-no, I... why? How? Wh-what would make you say such a thing, a-after all this time-"
"Alfred, look at us. We are falling apart at the seams! Da, I will admit, at first it was amazing and wonderful and... pleasant. But now... now, we are constantly at each others' throats! When was the last time we made love to each other instead of vicious, violent fucking after an argument?" Ivan snapped, irritated and further exasperated. Alfred was making him sound like the bad guy. The bad guy everyone saw him as. But not Alfred, not since-
"So you're going to give up? Just like that? Give up what we have, what we built together, this?" Alfred countered right back, fists clenched tightly at his sides. His eyes were brighter now, two burning sapphires behind the glass frames of Texas.
Ivan sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose. "It is not 'giving up,' Alfred. This type of thing happens every day for us nations. Dating and being lovers is practically meaningless-"
"Meaningless? Is that what our love is to you, Ivan Braginsky? I don't care what's normal for countries, I care about us! As people!" Ah, Alfred was close to tears now, Ivan could tell. Seeing that hurt more than it should at this point...
"I am not arguing with you over this, Alfred. We are finished. I am sorry if that upsets you so, but nothing will change my mind." Ivan headed for the door, not wanting to see Alfred truly begin to sob. He knew it would break him, and he would take back his words, pulling the blond into his arms to comfort him.
He was not expecting the vase of sunflowers he had given Alfred a few days ago to come sailing past his head, smashing against the sky blue wall. His amethyst eyes widened and he froze for a moment, long enough to hear Alfred's parting words. "Fine! Leave! Someday you'll come crawling back and ask me to take you in, Ivan Braginsky! I know you will! You'll realize the mistake you made!"
Alfred's words were silenced by the sound of the front door clicking shut.
Ivan chewed on his lip nervously for a moment, before fist finally connected with wood in a few brief, loud knocks. The laughter and chatter from within quieted, followed by the sound of quick footsteps muffled by carpeting and socks. A few seconds later the door swung open, and there stood Alfred, even more radiant than Ivan remembered.
The American's hair was neat but appeared as fluffy as it always did to him, Nantucket standing proudly where its brothers had fallen. Texas was on his face, gleaming and giving Alfred's eyes a depth others missed. The blond looked absolutely adorable, dressed in tan slacks and one of his favorite, horrible Christmas sweaters with the red-and-green zig-zag pattern and the reindeer. In that moment, Ivan wanted to ravage Alfred more than anything, but he held back, the rumors still fresh in his mind.
"Privyet, Alfred..." he greeted more stiffly than he would have liked.
Alfred stared up at him in response, surprised, but that was about the only emotion on his face- something Ivan had been worried about. "Ivan... what are you doing here? How did you know I was in Ohio-?"
"Ah, your... brother... the invisible one, told me. I hope you do not mind, I wanted my visit to be a... surprise."
Alfred frowned, but he seemed to be in a good mood, which meant he would not tell him off for it. Though he most likely would not invite him in. Not if things went the way Ivan feared they would.
"Alfred? Who is it? Do not just stand there like a chav, let them in! It's bloody freezing out there!" called a familiar British voice.
Ivan tensed up a bit, the breath catching in his lungs as Alfred turned to respond. "Don't worry about it, Iggy! It's just a salesman, I'll talk to him and he'll be gone in a minute! Go check the gingerbread men for me, 'kay?"
"I told you not to call me that infernal nickname, you git!" The huff Arthur released could be heard from the doorway. "But fine. Make it fast or the hot chocolate is certain to get cold!"
Alfred waited a few seconds before turning back to Ivan, frown still on his face as he leaned against the frame of the door. "Make it quick. I don't want to keep my boyfriend waiting."
Ivan felt as if that word was a bullet, shooting through his heart like a jolt. He tensed even more, eyes wide as he stared at Alfred in shock. "Boyfriend...?" he asked in quiet astonishment.
Alfred sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "Yes, Ivan. Boyfriend. As in one who isn't you. I figured that was why you were here. I told you, didn't I? Back then?"
"Fine! Leave! Someday you'll come crawling back and ask me to take you in, Ivan Braginsky! I know you will! You'll realize the mistake you made!"
Ivan felt a chill sweep through him. "D-da, but... but I thought... you said..."
"I know what you're thinking. That I would wait for you, if I knew you would do that. I did. For a while, Ivan. But then... I just got tired of being alone. I found someone new, someone who actually cares about and loves me. Someone I'm sure won't break my heart the way you did." Alfred seemed sympathetic in a way, almost pitying Ivan. "So... I guess the tables have turned, huh?"
Ivan's head hung and he stared at the wood paneling beneath his boots. "...da. I... guess they have. I'm... sorry I bothered you, Alfred..." Seeing no reason to stay, the remains of his heart resting somewhere in his stomach, he turned to walk away.
"Look, Ivan..." The Russian paused, listening to Alfred's words just as he had last time. "I won't say 'I told you so.' I'm not that cruel. But... you hurt me. I'm sorry if you're feeling that now, but you had your chance and you threw it away. So... I hope you manage to find someone else, too..."
There was the soft click of the door closing, an echo of the past, and Ivan was alone once more.