Disclaimer: Hetalia and its characters are property of Himaruya.
~X~
It wasn't fair. That's what kept running through Arthur's head as rain continued to pound down on him.
Arthur was drenched to the bone; his red coat heavy on his shoulders, and his once-pristine white pants stained with mud. He didn't feel the cold, however. His mind was much more focused on the pain of this betrayal.
After all this time, how could he? How could his brother hurt him like this? Arthur had bared his heart and soul to Alfred. He had given up everything he could for him, and this was his repayment?
Tears trickled down his face, masked by the heavy rainfall. What he couldn't hide was the sobs wracking through his body. He knew that his brother was in front of him, watching. This knowledge wasn't enough to force Arthur to regain his famous composure.
"What happened?" the American asked.
Arthur flinched from the cold tone of his voice. It was too un-Alfred. It sounded nothing like the carefree boy he had raised.
"I remember when you were great," he scoffed.
Arthur's sobs intensified. It was true. The great British Empire he used to be was fading. He lost his strength the moment he realized he cared about Alfred F. Jones.
The sound of wet footsteps advanced; yet Arthur still didn't raise his head. He couldn't face whatever disgust he was sure was written across his ex-colony's face.
"Look at me, England," he demanded. "I want to see you. I want you to see me. Not as your 'little brother', but as your equal."
He didn't comply. Strong hands grasped the Brit's chin, forcing his gaze to meet Alfred's.
It wasn't even remotely what Arthur had been expecting. It wasn't a cold, cruel, uncaring face he saw. His blue eyes were set with a certain determination, but it wasn't callous.
A sad smile turned Alfred's lips. "I'm really sorry," he said. "But I needed my freedom. You understand, right?"
"I hate you," the redcoat whispered. "Don't ever touch me again."
It was a complete lie. It didn't matter how much Alfred hurt him; he could never hate the American that he raised. But, he wasn't going to let anything like this happen again. An open heart obviously equaled inevitable heartbreak.
The blatant shock that crossed sky-blue eyes nearly made Arthur take it back.
Less than three seconds later, he was shoved face-down in the mud. "Then never come back to my country again," Alfred snapped back.
Somehow, the Brit found the strength to stand. He wiped the dirt from his eyes, but made no move for retaliation. Wordlessly, he turned around and walked away. Tears still fell from his eyes, but Alfred didn't need to know that.
It wasn't like the American cared anyways.
~X~
Author's Note: I always need more Revolutionary angst in my life. Maybe you guys do too? Anyways, I hope you enjoyed my little drabble. Thanks for reading