Disclaimer: Hetalia belongs to Himaruya. Only this story belongs to me.

Empty Promises: RussiaXMexicoXAmerica

Прощай means 'Farewell' (It is different than до свидания since this literally means "goodbye/see you later". Farewell, is only used when people will be parting ways and won't see each other again until a long time or they just won't see each other again.)


"Wait!" She cried, tugging on his scarf.

He turned slightly to face her. It broke his heart seeing her reduced to tears, all because of him.

"At-at least let me say goodbye." She said gently, tears threatening to spill.

He closed his eyes and sighed. He turned to face her completely. She threw her arms around him, burying her face into his chest. He wrapped around her, and placed his head over hers. He rubbed small circles onto her back, as she silently cried.

"But I will see you again, right?" She whispered and lifted her head to meet his eyes.

He felt his heart crack, every fiber in his body went numb. Looking into her eyes, he knew he couldn't lie to her.

He brushed away her tears with his thumb. He bent over and kissed her forehead.

"Прощай...my sunflower, прощай..." He whispered, before pulling her once more into a warm embrace.
Her brain was racing. "Прощай..." Although she knew a little Russian, this word was new. And the way he said it scared her. He sounded sorrowful and guilty, as if it pained him to say that word.

The train whistle blew, breaking their moment. The conductor yelled, "Five minutes!"

Her grip around him tightened. "We don't have to do this...we don't have to listen to them."

He released her and kept her at arm's length. His eyes soften, "Always so stubborn," he mused.

A sad smile formed on his face. "It is for the best. You'll see."
Her face crumpled, distorting her beautiful features.

"How can you say something like that?!" Her voice hitched. "How?"

"Didn't you tell me, you loved me? How I made you see things differently?"

He dropped his arms from her shoulders. Oh and how he did, but orders are orders. And if he was to not see her again, he would follow through, knowing that at least he would never hurt her. He kept the sad smile on his face. His bright violet eyes met her dull brown eyes. When they had first met, her eyes matched her spirit. Feisty, sharp, and yet tender and understanding.

He had hurt her, albeit just a little, but already felt guilty about it. He was sucking the life out of her and she was too important to just cave in like that. No, that is why he needed her gone, before she met the monster inside him, the darkness his heart held, the mind numbing pain brought up by the past.

He had to, no, he needed her to go. He was giving her up, she didn't deserve him. She was life and love wrapped up perfectly. While he was lower than dirt. He was the ash the lingered at the bottom of the fire place. It was only fitting, he thought, that as punishment for sinning, he should not be allowed to be graced by this angel.

Her eyes searched his, looking for a trace of answers as to why, why all of a sudden he was pushing her away?
He willed himself to become expressionless. Now all that was left was to break her heart in order for her to forget him.

"That's the thing, I said I 'loved' you." He voice was icy and smooth.

"That time is gone, it has passed. I did love you, once."

She shook her head, "No, no. "Don't say that..."

"Say what, that I did love you? I'm only being honest."

The train whistle blew again. He handed her suitcase.

"You better get on." He motioned towards the train.

"But I still love you." She said in a hushed whisper.

She took her suitcase. "I always have and I always will." She carefully climbed onto the stairs. Each step felt heavy, as if her legs were made of lead. She hurried to find a seat with a window.

She opened the window. She locked eyes with him. She forced herself to hold his gaze. Hoping to catch a glimpse of a clue in his eyes. But his eyes stayed the same: detached and emotionless.

"Прощайте!...My beautiful sunflower." He whispered the last part.

The train lurched forward. He was about to turn around,

"Wait!" She called out.

"Tell me what does, 'Прощай', she tried to say the word, "mean?"

He smiled at her attempt to pronounce it. He had to tell her,"It means farewell!"

"But why not say до свидания?" she shouted back.

"Because that would mean, until we meet again. And you and I both know that won't be so!"

Her eyes widened. "Ivan..."

The train wheels began to move.

"Miss, please sit down."

She turned her head and saw the one of the conductors. She only nodded, as the young man left. She turned quickly back to the window. But he was already gone. Fresh tears began to spill down her cheeks. The train began to pick speed, she looked out the window, frantically searching for the infamous pink scarf of his.

The train pulled out the station. She sat down on her seat, burying her face into her hands.
"Ivan..."

The train was gone, and it was only then did he leave the station He cleared his throat and shoved his hands into his pockets. He lowered his head as he trudged along the streets and finally reached his home.