(EDITED)
So instead of writing my other story, I'm feeling grouchy and this came out… I blame America. XD. No, seriously, my last password is America something something and lo and behold, nadda. -_-/
It was actually inspired by a Hitsukarin fic that for the life of me I could not remember because I just found it under one of my old notes from last January where I started loving Hetalia with a scratch above a 'Hitsukarin inspired'. So if you know what's these Hitsukarin fic named, tell me! :D.
The passage are vaguely the same but the plot is not. So, ha!
Title:Punctuality
Pairings: Past USUK and CanUk (It was needed so don't kill me!)
Warning: Drama. Lots of it. And brokenhearted America. Lots of it. XD
~USUKCAN~
You never really treasure time. You were a nation, an eternal being so what for?
It was a simple fact you held.
A careless nature of yours you never really got rid of.
You were never one for punctuality. Even regarding situations whether a war or a date or a meeting, you never cared of being early or late.
You take your sweet time sweetly.
Always realizing things last, often too late. You never cared though, not even when you heard rumors how you were the only one who realized that you're in love forty years late after your independence – although Iggy didn't know how you were pining for him, he just knew that you were in love, hopelessly so.
Falling in love is such a waste of time, you claimed, that it makes you feel lame.
But you love dear Iggy still.
The only one you'll ever care about besides yourself or your precious hamburgers.
But you often hurt him with the wasted time he waits. He always endured though but endurance can only last for so long.
You noticed it quite late.
It started out with nothing but the unanswered calls. Before he stops calling you first. Long before he sighs tiredly when you're near.
Instead, it starts with the closed door and high walls around him that changes how he treats you with his tired faded smiles and worn laughter that he offers you. Dearest Iggy began stepping away from you, tired and exhausted from trying to keep you on the cloud nine you are stuck unto, tired of taking the blame for your reckless escapades. And you don't know when it had begun, however ignorant you are to the others, you have always been aware of Iggy's life.
The same sadness and melancholy he had always bore before you two got together washes his being once more. The light he had briefly glimpsed faded, engulfed in total darkness and solemn acceptance, he breathes somberness. The shadows of fear clang to him once again.
And before you know it, even you are thrown out of his world with no keys and ladder to help you climbed back in. Lately, he keeps himself to himself, close and distant from the world, too tired to find a luster of hope. Not even when you offer him your bright sunny smile, nothing brightens up his shadowed world.
No matter how sunny you try to be, no matter how bright you can be, his mellow melancholy remains, his distant frosty heart never melting once.
But you keep on smiling, laughing, trying to make him smile too, hoping that your warmth would warm his winter heart.
He's your dear Iggy, the one who had always helped you, who had done so much for you. And the least you can do is love him too, repay him for the unconditional things he gave you.
Honestly, you were just afraid of completely losing him. Iggy was such a great and large part of your life that if you lose him, nothing will ever be the same.
In vain hope of keeping him, you rarely let him alone by himself. You invaded his world but never gotten in.
Then suddenly on a calm summer day when you briefly looked away for a moment, something changes. With a soft compliment of his jaded beautiful eyes along with the gentle prodding of the cause of his sadness and the tender glimpsed of a scolding remark like baby steps of the soft glow of sunshine when spring, a moment of sweet change happens beyond those mellow violet eyes and the light smile of a face so similar to him. Canada enters Iggy's world.
Something that you've been trying to do since he chooses to let go, he had done it with just a simple question that you should have asked first.
Your punctuality is getting worse than usual.
In one relaxed moment, you saw him with the faintest of smile you have never succeeded to paint on his delicate face.
And you know by that slight smile, he was not yours anymore. Invisible little Canada stole him from you.
It's the first time you lose to Canada. And while you are far stronger than him, he was far more mature than you were. Simple as that.
You were the first to see him change for the better. You wonder why your punctuality is just kicking in when it's already too late.
You saw something great, a beautiful innocent moment of laughter that you didn't achieve when your Iggy was still yours.
Romances between nations often start by inviting them to their beds like how the two of you started. Theirs was different, innocent, a fresh breath of air. It started out with shy smiles and innocent blushes, pure laughter and loving gazes, clumsy fall to the arms of the other that would lead to embarrassed stuttering, meek invitations to dates, like an awkward confession to a boy you had loved ever since. It drove you mad on how pure it was, blooming like spring flowers under warm sun, and still you don't have a heart to rip it to shreds.
You want to countless of times.
But you didn't.
You loved them both too much for them to suffer.
And maybe that's what keeping you from destroying the unseen romance before the nations' eyes. At least, that's what you reason to yourself.
You scratch your head and sigh, defeated.
Canada makes England lively, livelier than you ever could.
And maybe that's what you hated the most –to be outdone at something, to be a loser. Part of you is happy for them. Part of you tries to look away as they tentatively hold each other's hand.
Part of you wanted it to be you again, not your brother who almost looked like you, the shy version of you that seems so much better than you in dear Iggy's eyes, that should hold England's heart, to be the one making him smile.
Part of you wondered why you can't let go of the past that Iggy had once been stuck unto with you.
You gaze upwards and smile weakly, it's time to move on, you say.
You tried. You tried letting go.
Even tried being reasonable for once for the sake of your own sanity. You even tried falling in love again.
And even tried hating Canada for being a thief, someone who stole what is yours. He was a thief, you claimed, a two-faced liar with the coldest of heart, you reasoned, a villain who caught the damsel's heart, you thought.
But you can't, you can't hate him for making Iggy happy, not with how alive Iggy seems to be, the somberness around him was gone, the darkness was merely a flicker of shadow on his back, easily hidden by how light his heart had become.
His strained cautious smile seems free -of worry, of exhaustion you caused him to have. Like he stopped blaming himself on why you had left on that fateful encounter under the raining battlefield, for being a failure. Like he stopped being in the past, stopped living for the past, stopped breathing the past-his laughter is much sweeter than it once been and it is all thanks to him, invisible little Canada that stole your Iggy.
So why would you hate him when he makes him happy? Iggy's melancholy is gone, his frosty demeanor, nowhere to be found, was replaced by a soft presence of something so free.
It's then you know that it was a lost war for you. Even with millions of soldiers, with Canada's simple smile, you wouldn't win.
Wishes were sometimes meant to be just wishes.
You wish it wasn't true.
As much as it hurts you to admit it, Iggy had changed for the better, far better than you ever could change him.
Canada brought the best out of him while you tried to give Iggy the best of you again. It didn't work when his gaze always, always strayed towards the one besides you, Canada.
And you only want the best for Iggy. You want him to be happy.
Even if you are not.
You were behind schedule for submission of paperwork when Canada enters the room with a pot of coffee with the sweetest intention.
You welcome him with your trademark bright grin that can light up a hundred of towns—bitterly you thought—but never Iggy's world.
You were not surprise that he comes to know how he is dating back then when they were just his colonies, how sweet he is back then, and how much he changes. He had been waiting for it after all. He was just a little surprised that Canada was being completely and utterly bold.
You smile. You stop chasing what can never be obtained again, you stop chasing Iggy's heart. You tried moving on. Tried to, at least.
But you know that he can never love him as much as you can. That's the only comforting thought that get you by at night when you missed the way you snuggle for warmth with Iggy. Now, you tried to be contented with a pillow and a blanket and a cold room that speaks your mistake.
Maybe by constantly being late, England got tired of waiting.
You patted the space on the sofa where you sat and shook your head.
You step away from England. It is not your place anymore, you tried being satisfied just seeing Iggy's back while being replaced.
You told Canada how much, much sweeter he had become. You told him that his smile is more beautiful than before, told him how he changed for the better.
Because your sweet childhood was the only memory you know that Iggy chose you over your brother. The gentle light of pitter patter of moments that are happy and carefree with Iggy holding you close to his heart was the only thing Canada would never know, would never experience.
But, bitterly you thought, you would never experience how Iggy holds a lover because you would always just be his precious little brother.
Iggy was only searching for his sweet little colony, not the grown man that you had come to become that loves him ever since as an equal, as a lover, not a brother.
He only ever saw him as his little brother, sweet little colonial America that you once were.
So what's the point of your revolution now? Useless.
No matter what flaws you told him, he overlooked and so you realized you never shared Iggy with anyone, he was not yours from the start.
Not as a lover anyway. It was always Canada he loves more.
Never you.
So you told him to confess, told him that he was wasting his time by holding back. Told him to love him truly, that was your advice, to never take him for granted.
It hurts you to see them kissed, how their lips molded together perfectly.
And it hurts you to admit it, Iggy needed Canada more than you. Needed the behaved soft spoken version of you.
You sighed and looked away. It's time for you to leave. Time to give up, you told yourself but seeing Iggy once more, it's harder than you thought.
When you walked away, you tried not looking back but when you did, it hurts more. Your gaze locked with emerald ones and you almost shouted that you loved him first, love him more, love him more than Canada ever could.
But you didn't. England thanked you. For letting go. For letting him fall in love again freely.
You faked a grin and nodded, defeated.
You walked away. This time you didn't look back. Not now anyway.
You never really treasure time. You were a nation, an eternal being so what for?
It was a simple fact you held.
A careless nature of yours you never really got rid of.
You were never one for punctuality. Even regarding situations whether a war or a date or a meeting, you never cared of being early or late.
You take your sweet time sweetly.
But somewhere among the denial and letting go where you loved England and England loved Canada –you stopped calling him Iggy, it was not your place anymore—you wonder if you were punctual and catch England's fall in time, would they be still so in love?
You sigh, hold England's hand while Canada holds his heart and let go. You cry inside.
But plasters a bright smile on your face as England kisses Canada while you cling to him by his hand.
Fireworks on New Year weren't as bright as they are this year. Or maybe it was just you as people cheered loudly.
You remain silent, brokenhearted.
End.
Don't kill me? And review! :D. That was interesting wasn't it? Oh, along the way of moving on, America tries calling Iggy England but often reverts back to Iggy because he just can't.
I love you guys. If this gets a high attention that would never really happen, I would write a sequel to it. A happy one. So hahaha because that would never happen even if I have the plot written down already.
