Heh. I just fell in love with HetaOni and that moment when England goes blind and Im just bawling on my computer and oh Lord the feels... so I was like "Imma do a oneshot" *Nods furiously to self*
Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia, HetaOni, bla bla bla...
"How many fingers am I holding up?"
The question lingered in my mind and I mulled over it; rolled it around in the blackness that was my world. My new trial.
"Oh God No!"
Why the horror, Alfred? I can just picture you there, tears streaming down your face, mouth twisted in a hideous snarl of rage. Or fear. Maybe both.
"You're not… blind, are you?"
Hush, dear. No I am not blind. It is you who is blind. I can see perfectly. I can see the blackness eating me up from the inside. I can still see your face, screaming in terror. The moment I cast that spell is forever etched in my mind.
I will never see you smile again.
Stop, why are you hugging me? Why do you throw your arms around me in a salty wet teary embrace and hold on; hold on as if I could possible save you. But you should know better, you git. I have already saved you. I am done now, finished.
Now, now. Don't wipe the blood off my face. It's a waste of your shirt, don't you see? Because the blood will just keep pouring, down, down, down, from my eyes. My eyes that can only cry red.
I'd like to tell you something, love, so listen close. Dry your tears on my shirt if you must, wipe your nose on my collar. Fix your jacket; there. I may not be able to see, but I can still tell when you're being sloppy. It's a gift.
Stop sniveling now, stop talking. Open your eyes and open your ears and hear what I have to say. Because I'll only say it once. I only have one time to say it.
When my cold broken body is laying on the God- forsaken floor of this God- forsaken house in this God- forsaken world, I want you to remember-
What?
What is it?
No. Stop, don't cry again. Yes, love. I'm going to die; you must know that by now. Shh. Be strong. You're the hero, remember? You're my hero. So I want you to listen.
Stop interrupting me; I taught you better. Okay, there. That's better now. Stay quiet.
When I am dead and gone, dear child, I want you to remember. I want you to remember me.
Oh, you'll never forget about me?
Ha. What a silly lad. Of course you will.
I did tell you not to interrupt, no?
I want you to remember the good, not the bad. The sun filled days and the evenings of laughter in the great golden fields. The wars and the rain and the red and blue? You can forget that, love. Hush, It never happened.
I want you to remember frantic nights in sweaty hotel rooms on creaking beds, and the sound of the fan as we lay panting with the smiles and afterglow still fresh on our faces. The mornings after of red cheeks and heads turned, abashed, and the smell of fried eggs from the small kitchen in the corner.
The yelling and tears and slammed doors and sleepless nights in some bar far away with cheap whiskey and a corner chair? Let those thoughts fade away. Pretend those times never happened.
But what I want you to remember the most-
Hey, are you still listening? I can't tell if you're looking at me or not. I am blind after all.
Ah. So you are.
What I want you to remember the most is the thing we never did; the words we never said. I want you to remember this, a memory I should have given you long, long time ago-
"I love you."