June 18, 2011; Edited December 15, 2011

I hope you enjoy this new take on the relationship between US/UK, and it's "somewhat" dark.

Please do review and give me some suggestions/constructive criticism! Thank you so much for reading!

I do NOT own Hetalia. If I did, Pirate England would rule the world. Eternally.

Unforgettable Day

He stood shivering…his body trembled from the coldness surrounding him. The rain fell with no mercy; it kept coming down in pellets so big it was as if the clouds held a never-ending grudge against the man standing beneath them.

Slowly, he lifted his head and stared up at the gloomy sky above him—dark gray and suffocating.

He didn't feel the rain slam onto his face. He was already too numb…both inside and out. He shivered involuntarily from the harsh rain, and he trembled from the cold blue eyes that had pierced through him a moment ago.

He stood alone, tears streaming down his cheeks. He didn't even know that he was crying so hard he gasped for air. Clutching his chest, he stooped over and lost control of his knees. They buckled beneath him and he was suffocating himself with his tears. He wheezed and gasped, hearing himself choke for air.

.

.

"I'm leaving."

"Wh-what? Where are you going?"

"Arthur, I have to go. I need to see the world with my own eyes."

"Aren't you happy the way you are, with me?"

A turn of the head—an avoidance of eye contact. "I have to go."

"…Why! …why? …why…" A thud on the wet mud.

"Forgive me...Arthur."

.

.

He gasped for air once again, and struck the ground. "Why! Why does this hurt so much?" He calmed down enough to stop his hyperventilation. His arms shot up to grab his head, and he began to feel the repeated pounding of the rain drops on his face and body. It felt refreshing…the steady beat, the harsh realization, the physical pain to take away the emotional wound.

"Arthur?"

He didn't hear. The screams of the rain drowned everything out.

"Arthur? Hey, Arthur." This person neared the unknowing man.

"It's…alright, Arthur. Come here…" The bright blue eyes filled with concern. They had witnessed this before.

"Wh-what are you doing here?" He only knew when that strong arm grasped his shoulder.

"You're crying again…"

"That doesn't matter to you, you stupid idiot! Get away from me, you git!" He smacked the arm from him. His sobs started again, and it seemed that he would resume his hyperventilation.

"I'm not leaving you again, Arthur."

"Y-you-are—such a stupid—idiot! I said, get—the bloody hell—away from me!" His sobs interfered with his ability to speak smoothly and clearly. He thrashed about, struggling to break the steady grip the one with the bright, penetrating blue eyes had on him.

"Did you remember that day? Or should I say, this day, those years ago?"

"What makes you think that you're so important that I'll be thinking of that?"

"Arthur, calm dow—"

"Shut up! I am calm! Just—" He struggled to speak coherently. "Get out of my sight!"

"No. Come here—"

"NO! Are you trying to scar me for another—I don't know how long! Get out of my sight you bloody idiot! I don't want to see those eyes agai—" He couldn't continue shouting his anger for he, once again, gasped for air.

"I don't care anymore." Those strong arms wrapped around him tightly, and he finally felt how soaked he was. That brown bomber jacket felt so warm…it smelled so nice…

"Get off of me! Let me go! Go away, god damn it! Go AWAY! Damn it!" His struggles stopped, as he had no more energy. He had barely to begin with, as his muscles shook from the coldness.

"No. I told you, I'm not leaving you, Arthur."

"Quit lying, you bastard!"

"I'm not lying…I'm here right now, aren't I?"

"I don't give a damn! It doesn't matter anymore…" His voice dropped considerably.

"How can I make you trust me again?"

"I'm not trusting you again! I don't want to have anything to do with you. Go away, you bloody git!"

He felt the arms wrap even tighter around him.

"Get away…from me…already…you bloody…idiot." Tears rolled down his face.

No motions were made to set him free. He was still locked in that strong, unwavering grasp.

"I don't want…you here. Go…away." He felt the other nuzzle his head on his neck.

"Stop this…stop…you're making me want to fall in your arms…" More sobs. "You're only going to direct those—those words at me again, and make me crumble. Let go of me…I don't want this…let me go…Let me go already! Leave me alone!"

"…I'm sorry. I'ma do all I can to make you believe again."

"Nothing you do will change my mind! I don't want to see you anymore! Leave! I can't take this much longer! Go away!"

"I'll make you believe. I will…"

"You've already ruined everything! You've already killed me! You took that knife and stabbed every part of me. You let me bleed dry. Then you went and shot a few more bullets into me! Nothing can fix it anymore! Just let me live without having to see you stare down at me and watch me with those eyes as I choke on my last breath. Just, leave!"

"Come here…" Alfred pulled the crying man close and forced their lips together.

"Ughn! Nnn…mmmmffff—" A slap. "Get the bloody hell off me!"

Alfred stumbled backward and put his hand to his stinging cheek.

"What the bloody hell do you think you're doing! Don't take advantage of me!" He furiously wiped his mouth with the green sleeve of his uniform, and if he were able to blush, he would have. His blood couldn't travel to his cheeks fast enough in such a freezing situation. "Quit making me want to lean in to you and forget about everything. I don't want to relive that day… I don't want to go back! Let me live my life, won't you? Just let me try to heal from these scars, can't you? Stop making me wish I was back in your arms!" Arthur clenched his eyes shut, and his hands were balled up into fists. His short hair stuck to his face, dripping with water.

Alfred stood still, hand to cheek, and stared with remorse at Arthur, who was on the verge of hyperventilating. He was panting hard, and his chest heaved up and down dramatically.

"I don't want you here! Do you know how hard I've been trying to make myself not yearn for you? There are no second chances in life. Once you screw up, then you're done. Get over it! Move on!" It sounded as if he was trying to shout that to himself, as well. "Quit…quit rubbing salt all over my wounds. I'm bleeding all over!" He fell to the ground. "Stop…stop it…please…" He held his face in his hands. "Give me a break…don't make my wounds any deeper…I'll die…stop…stop…please!"

Soft sounds of splashing mud approached Arthur. Alfred walked up slowly, soaking wet from head to toe from the rain, as well. He looked down, eyes full of pain, and said, almost in a whisper, "I'm not giving up. I'm sorry, Arthur. I was the one who hurt you this gravely, but I will also be the one to heal you from this agony."

The Englishman did not reply, and kept his face in his hands.

"I won't ever hurt you again. I'll protect you. I'm gonna regain your trust, and this'll be forever."

"No…" A soft mumble. "No…I don't want to risk anything anymore…I will die…"

Alfred kneeled in front of the trembling man, and grabbed both his wrists, forcing him to look in his eyes. Green orbs met blue, and they were wide with fear, regret, longing, exhaustion, uncertainty, defeat.

"I won't ever let you die." The American leaned in and kissed Arthur gently, yet so roughly. He met resistance, but soon, nothing. Arthur didn't try to struggle free, yet he didn't kiss back, either. He was like a lifeless doll, for he had given up and refused to let Alfred back in his heart.

Alfred's chest constricted in anguish. However, he was determined to renew life into Arthur. He will make those beautiful green eyes shine, once again.

Arthur was too weak to stand up. He didn't complain when Alfred picked him up and began to carry him home, but he also didn't show any other emotion.

.

.

It was the day of remembrance, of regret.

It was the day of broken bonds, of unfulfilled promises.

It was the day of unforgivable resolves, of irreparable devastation.

It was the fourth of July.

A/N: I'm a huge USUK fan, but somehow, if I was in this situation as Arthur, I'd be like him. I'd want to go back to Alfred so much, especially when Alfred is returning, himself! However, don't you think that in a relationship, if one person decided to end it, then that should have been given lots and lots of thought, so therefore it's something of a "final decision, no going back"? Well, good thing Alfred didn't cheat or anything, so this complicated relationship will have to mend its problems and fix any misinterpretation. xP I hope you understand Arthur's internal conflict...if that's how I should put it...

Don't worry, after this first chapter, Arthur won't be like this the whole time. XD I don't know if this is going to be a "real" story - oh, how should I put this?

The next chapters will be chronological, and they will relate to each other, but each one will have their own little idea. It's almost like a collection of one-shots, but different. Mainly, they'll focus on Alfred trying to heal Arthur's wounds. Or just how the two of them cope with this.