100 THEME CHALLENGE

ALMOST

The cliff loomed above him… Or a third of it did anyway. His fingers ached from clinging onto the poor, dry ledge which sliced his strong fingers like a knife.

His name was Gilbert Beilschimdt. World renowned rock climber made celebrity by his dashing good looks and extraordinary white hair which made him somewhat of a rarity. You could say he easily stood out amongst a crowd and he knew how to roll with it. He was on frequently on the front of newspapers, he had been for various radio interviews and was often hassled by the paparazzi (when they could keep up with him), he bathed in money, he'd been to war and survived, attained his wildest dreams. He was best friends with the rich and famous who of course simply added to the attention which gleefully swerved his way. A popular French model and a famous Spanish singer were his biggest fans, and he theirs.

"You'll kill yourself one day if you carry on like this!" They joked and red eyes danced at the mere thought of it.

It was actually quite a nice day, not a cloud in the sky. It mocked him. There should be awesome tempests blowing, the rain should be smacking him in the face, each tiny droplet a cold splinter searing his skin; nature should be raging. It should have been trying to kill him, or pretending to at least. This was just pathetic. Not even a breeze to wrestle his hair. How insulting.

He was in his early twenties, he had a younger brother whom he openly adored and he had lived a good life, living on the edge whenever he could. He found it was the only way he could ever feel truly alive, to feel the Earth revolving beneath his feet, to taste a rush of sweet excited air sweeping through his lungs, to laugh, to cry, to feel. He felt like he owned the world and he always had his friends to fall back on when things went wrong. They were his harness to the world, kept him anchored to ground and stopped him from one day escaping off the face of the planet and into space due to his overwhelming life force.

Crimson eyes risked a glance below. Heights never bothered him when he knew there was a safety harness to catch him. Said harness was faulty.

Fans surrounded him; he had his own fan base going on you know. He inspired the young to get out there and get physical. He was the role model of today. He went to bed at night knowing he'd helped a few kids by inspiring them to "get out there and climb trees" because he is just that awesome. Climbing; everyone was doing it, it was the thing to do: climbing trees, scaling walls, traversing cliffs...

'That's right… why give up now? You've done so much, climbed so high…' feet scrabble at the cliff face, desperately searching for a purchase. His face unusually serious with heavy determination, he uses all of his strength to pull himself up by his pale fingers, muscles are stretched taught as he slowly gains height, and hooks an arm around the poor ledge… then another. He can do this… safe.

He had loved, once. He had loved passionately, but secretly and shyly. Which was probably just as well, she hadn't wanted him and never would. So she had told him. It hurt worse than any pain he had ever felt. It was worse than that one time a bullet had clipped his arm during his short time in the war. He had mourned his wasted emotion longer than when he had found his pet canary dead as a child. It pained him still. Every accidental thought directed her way was a knife tearing through the centre of his being, unstoppable. It wasn't something he knew how to fight either, seeing as it wasn't a physical problem; the Beilshmidt family had never been quite able to understand emotion. It was a strong family trait, most members of the Beilschimdt family appeared to completely lack emotion, or had too much to know quite what to do with.

An ominous cracking noise echoed through the canyon and his face fell. He pulled himself up onto the ledge as it began to crumble under his weight. He couldn't allow this to be the end, legs dragged themselves up, chest heaved under the intense strain, al…most…

Pathetically cheesy that she would be the last thought in his subconscious and yet in an odd way it made sense. He had tried to avoid her. And yet sometimes he thought he had seen her in the crowd, every so often she was one of the paparazzi, occasionally he would spy her along with the rest of his fans, hiding in the foliage of the trees above during his sessions with the general public. But then he would become distracted by someone or something and by the time he had refocused his gaze on the spot where she was, she would be gone.

He quickly shot his arm out to the next handhold as the ledge shifted beneath him… nearly…

He often wondered whether his disillusioned mind was playing tricks on him, or whether she regretted pushing him away, but that was a hurtful train of thought, torturous. He didn't think his heart could risk another let down like the first. So he ignored her, neither settling on dismissing her as a fragment of a heartbroken mind, nor a possible reality.

Fingers grazed cold stone and a sudden feeling of weightlessness. His famous crimson eyes widened and soared towards the sky. There she stood, on the precipice of the cliff. She was teasing him, he knew now that he had been seeing things, she didn't exist. And yet the way she screamed his name sounded so real, her arms helplessly reaching out as he continued to fall. He reached out a hand to her; he was going to die now anyway so why not indulge in a little insanity?

The year was 1947.

~'O'~PAGE BREAK~'O'~

This… was supposed to be a happy chapter due to a sad previous chapter. However I didn't like the original "happy" idea I had going on for this chapter and so, I went for the other more depressing idea.

So, Prussia was officially dissolved in 1947, which is about the only historical reference to be honest.

This chapter is AU I guess ;) where Prussia lives like a firework – bright but burns out rather quickly. Too large for life I guess, or at least that's how I'd see his life if he were mortal.

The girl is Hungary, I love PruHun, its one of my favourite shippings and it wasn't even supposed to show up in here but somehow wound its way in there. I guess I wanted Prussia to have experienced immense love and pain.

THAT'S ALL!~