Hetalia does not belong to me, blah blah blah :D (I tried to make this story less "sappy" [EHERMMMUKNOWHOIMREFERINGTOOO])
"Hey."
"Yeah?"
"You still awake?"
"I guess."
"Can I ask you a question?"
"What is it?"
Slowly, the Englishman returned to reality, eyelids fluttering open to face the concerned look of his lover. His vision was still blurred and he had to squint under the light of the dimmed table lamp.
The other blonde smiled wearily.
"Hey, Arthur, how've you been lately?"
The Englishman raised a brow, looking his lover straight into his cerulean orbs with his own. He was clearly vexed at his lover's words, for he could not understand why he had to wake him up in the dead of night just to ask him how he was doing. Finally, he sighed, deciding he would just go along.
"Fine, I guess," he replied.
The other man only smiled.
"That's good."
Without another word, the blonde laid back down onto the rumpled white covers, yawning and stretching, then closing his eyes.
"Well, 'night, Arthur."
The Englishman stared at him blankly, eyes widened with a look that expressed half amazement and half anger.
So that was it?
"Oi, Alfred."
Silence.
"Alfred?"
There was no response.
"Alfred!"
The eyes of his lover shot open in surprise.
"Whoa, Arthur, what is it?"
He could no longer hold in his anger. The Englishman clenched his fists, hoping that his rage would soon die down and the both of them could return to the peaceful night of rest that they were just in, but he couldn't help it. The more and more he thought about his lover's unexplained and perplexing actions just made his even angrier. The fact that this man would not even explain why he was awoken in the middle of the night to be asked if he was fine or not only made him angrier.
"What was that all about?"
The blonde blinked, then reached over to the wooden nightstand and grasped his glasses, slowly placing them on his face and blinking to adjust his vision.
"What do you mean?" he asked, clearly oblivious to his lover's building rage.
The Englishman looked up, his emerald orbs' glance piercing his lover's light blue ones.
"What was that? You woke me up at this time just to ask how I was. What was that for! This isn't the first time, you know! You've always been doing these types of things, going up to me at unpredictable moments just asking how I am! You've never explained anything, especially when I see you!"
The blonde was beginning to understand, but he kept silent, waiting for his lover to finish.
"Whenever I see you looking worried, I asked you what's wrong, but you never answer, yet, you always ask me what's wrong and I always tell you! It's not fair! I want to know if you're in distress, too! It's not fair!"
The Englishman could feel his cheeks burning and tears began rolling down his cheeks.
It might have been the fact that he was sleepy, but he couldn't control himself. He continued to let out what he had stored away in the depths of his mind.
"Tell me! It's not fair! You know everything there is about me, but you don't tell me things about you!"
More tears rolled down the Englishman's face and he could taste the salt on his tongue as he was close to sobbing.
Suddenly, he felt a pair of strong arms latch onto his shoulders and pulled him close. He was caught in a warm embrace, once he had most likely longed for.
Slowly, his tears stopped, and his lover began speaking.
"You were having a nightmare."
The Englishman's eyes widened at the sound of his lover's voice.
"You were fidgeting in your sleep, so I thought you might have been having a bad dream."
The Englishman grasped the soft cotton of his lover's nightshirt.
"But…"
The blonde wrapped his arms tighter around his lover's slender figure, tightening their embrace.
"I never knew you felt this way, Arthur," the blonde chuckled, "You're always hiding your emotions and pushing me away, so I thought you didn't care."
"—but I do care!" stammered the Englishman as his grasp tightened on his lover's nightshirt.
The Englishman could feel his lover smiling on the nape of his neck.
"I know that now."
The Englishman buried his face in his lover's chest for a moment, then retracted and looked his lover straight in the face
"Hey, Alfred."
"Yeah?"
"How have you been lately?"
The blonde smiled and leaned in, planting a light kiss on the Englishman's forehead.
"I'm good. How about you?"
The Englishman sneered.
"You already asked me and I already answered, so you don't get to ask again," he replied.
The blonde only smiled.
"Okay then, have it your way."
As his lover laid back down and yawned, ready to go back to sleep, the Englishman turned to him with a sour look on his face.
"I hate you, git."
The Englishman laid down as well and yawned, turning to the opposite side of the bed and curling up under the covers.
The blonde smirked, removing his glasses and reaching over to turn off the table lamp before yawning once more and closing his eyes.
"I love you, too, Arthur."