Disclaimer: I do not own, claim to own, or pretend to own the characters involved in this work of fiction. But I DO want to just take them and hug them to pieces.

Note: As my second Hetalia fic ever, I find that jumping head first into a very seldom made pairing is kind of odd for me to do...but perfectly understandable after reading the comics I based this off of. If anyone is interested in them, just let me know and I'll link you guys. Now-ONWARD!

Enjoy, su!

Impatience

All he ever saw when he looked at him was the image of Russia holding his limp body by the arm, blood seeping into flawless silver hair and dribbling down that horrible metal pipe of his. The Slavic nation was always smiling (smirking?) when he thought back to that terrible and wonderful day when the wall fell...smiling because not only would Prussia never forget him, but because he would always be faced with the reminder that he was his. Would ALWAYS be his.

The scar just below his hairline always made Spain want to cringe.

He always made a point of not looking at it, refused to meet Prussia's demanding gaze when they were alone and treated him as if he were a flower that was easily bruised. Indeed, it seemed that the ex-nation was more fragile since is dissolvment; things that otherwise would not have bothered him him often left him bruised and winded. Play fighting with Germany had become a task and the younger often had to curb his returning strength when he realized his brother's attempts were becoming halfhearted...Prussia played it off as he was just going easy on his baby brother, but he knew. They ALL knew.

"Why are you avoiding touching me?"

There really was no why other than the fact that Spain was afraid that if he forgot himself and was too rough with his friend, Prussia would wilt and wither is his grasp. Forget that he ached with such conflagrancy to simply touch him (kiss him, hold him, love him) that if he reached out, he would never let go. If he let himself do any of the things he (secretly) wanted to do, he might never let go and they would have to beat him off of his friend with nail-embedded bats. The desire to assure himself was simply too strong, and so he alienated himself to keep Prussia safe.

"I don't want to be like Russia."

Because Prussia was still suffering the effects from living with the polar bear for long; when he thought no one was watching, his fingers would find the scar under his hairline. They would dance nimbly over it, running back and forth over the raised skin until it was irritated and red ("Gilbert, you're going to scratch yourself raw," France would inform him blankly once he noticed) and everyone in the room was looking at him. There was no telling how many more scars he had that they never saw, both physical and emotional. France had speculated to him once what could have possibly gone on during their friend's captivity...what horrors he had been forced to endure at the cruel hands of the childish Russia.

Alone and without anyone to help him. The thought of Prussia alone, preferred or forced, always broke Spain's heart and he would have to drink himself into a stupor in case he lost control and did something he regretted whenever he was around.

"You never look me in the eye when we're alone!"

It was so difficult to do it when he glared at him with that accusing, angry and defiant red gaze. He knew that if he did his will would break and all the things he kept hidden for his sake would come gushing out like a dam had broken, and then where would they be? Prussia would be hurt and Spain would be rejected and guilty and he would never see him again-and that was the LAST thing he wanted to happen.

"You have to tell him mon ami."

But he couldn't, not if it meant losing Prussia (who was beautiful and fragile like glass and flowers and-) and Spain just couldn't handle that!

"I don't need your fucking pity!"

But-he wasn't-that's not-

"Not what? You're freaking out like I'll fucking shatter if you touch me!"

No! No, that isn't it at all! Please, listen to me! I-I-

Prussia sneered at him one last time. "...Goodbye," he bit out and left.

-I love you.

End

Sadness, I know! But I just couldn't help myself after the last update for the comics! Anyways, to those who are familar with my past works, no I will not be abandoning them. I actually have an update up and ready to be posted for It Comes In Waves that I will post...when I find my usb drive and get my lappy up and running (I'm borrowing my dad's while I visit). I will also be picking Wish Shop back up as soon as I can, but in the meantime please enjoy my silly fangirlishness while I revel in this fandom. Lovely, isn't it? Maybe next time I'll do a pairing that's more widely known. *twinkles*

Reviews save lives. And make a balm to soothe the battered heart what created this epic sadness.