Rain Waltz
His hand took mine, his fingers fitting perfectly into the spaces in between mine. His other hand glided over my shirt and skin, landing near my lower back, pulling me closer. The rain hadn't lessened, nor, did it seem, would it any time soon.
He tilted his head, smiling sheepishly at me. I smiled back, following his lead into the first step. Our feet splashed in the puddle, the two of us not quite used to dancing together yet. But as we danced, as we spun in a simple, loving waltz, we grew closer, more sure together than we ever had been before. I knew on-lookers were scrunching up their noses, watching us with disdain or maybe photographing us. I could not care less. I was with him, with Arthur.
The rain made his eyes stand out from the deep gray background, a bright, acid green I loved. I will always love. He began to sing softly, gently in my ear, "Come away with me, in the night. Come away with me and I will write you a song..." I don't know why people say he can't sing. It was beautiful- his voice had tones Celine Dion would die for. He kept the beat as we swayed to the sound of the rain. As the song we both knew became more passionate, so did we.
I spun away from him, keeping my grip on his hand. He brought me back, nose and mouth brushing my neck lightly, making it tingle. Again, we spun, this time I was pulled to his chest, his mouth inches from mine. My feet were inches behind my torso, balanced gracefully on one another. Closer, closer... "No," I breathed, "No- this is a dream, isn't it? It has to be. You'd never try to kiss me if it wasn't. It isn't real, this isn't real..."
"It is. It is as real as you wish for it to be. America..." His voice faded out, and so did the rain.
I sat up, tears pricking at my eyes. It was so wrong, so idiotic for me to want him. He'd never want me. As I left the hotel room, I grabbed my jacked, sliding it over my shoulders. I padded out of the room, down the hall to the elevator. Down one, two, three, four floors, then step out into the lobby. Not looking in either direction, I left the hotel, letting my feet take me faster, faster, faster- let the dream leave, please, please! I thudded along, my breath coming in short bursts. Eventually, I stopped, doubled over, in the middle of the street, hands on my knees.
"Alfred...?" No, not again...don't tell me I'm still dreaming. I gave a choked sob. Hands rested themselves on my back and shoulder as Arthur bent down next to me. "Alfred, what's wrong?"
"Dude," I gave a fake laugh and smile, "Nothing's wrong! I'm just weeping over how epic I am!"
"No you aren't. Don't you lie to me, America! Was Russia bothering you again? Are you alright?"
"I'M FINE! I-" He took my face in his hands, his thumbs brushing my cheeks.
"I know," his voice had changed. Sadder, more resigned, older. For a while, we sat together in the middle of an Italian street, his arms around me. I was trying to regain control over my emotions and failing. Soon, he stood, offering me his hand. I took it, let him help me up. He didn't let go. "Alfred, would you do me the honor of letting me walk you back to your room?"
I simply nodded. He adjusted our hands, his fingers fitting perfectly into the spaces between mine. Turning towards me, he let his other hand glide over my back, coming to a rest before my jeans. It wasn't until now I noticed the rain drumming on our backs. He took a step. I followed, cautiously, just to see what would happen. Again, we stepped.
We were dancing.
In the rain.
Just like in my dream. How did he know? He began to sing, softly; his voice was more sensual and thick in real life. I didn't recognize the song, but it seemed to suit us pretty well. "Would you dance, if I asked you to dance? Would you run, and never look back? Would you cry if you saw me crying? Would you save my soul tonight?"
Dancing, we began to grow closer together, spinning in slow circles. When the song ended, we stopped, pulling away. However, we didn't part completely. His hand stayed intertwined with mine. Silently, we walked back to the hotel. Up the stairs- why would I take the elevator if Iggy was escorting me?- one, two, three, four flights. Open door. Stroll even slower down the hall.
Silently thank whatever God there is that my hotel room is on the other side of the hall. I smiled at Arthur, giving his hand a squeeze. He returned them, "Alfred, where's your room?"
"437..." I looked around. "Right here. Give me a minute." I pulled my hand away from his, opening my door. I turned back to him. "Thanks for running after me, dude. And... dancing with me. That was nice."
"You are welcome. Good night, Alfred."
I hesitated. Would he welcome this? I leaned forward, heart beating fast, and kissed his cheek gently. "Good night."
I shut the door.