Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia

He had loved her. He always had. Ever since they were small, Gilbert had only loved Elizaveta. All he wanted was for her to be happy. Gilbert sighed as he looked out of the window of his hotel. The weather was great. Perfect. A total opposite of what he was feeling at the moment. He knew this day would come but even so, he was not fully prepared for it.

As he stood up and slipped into a crisp, white shirt, there was a knock on the door.

"Enter," he called out and the door opened, revealing a beautiful woman with long, chocolate tresses and piercing green eyes in a white elaborate gown. A wedding gown. Elizaveta.

Gilbert merely stood and stared at her. She was more beautiful than she had ever been.

The sound of the door being closed followed by a clicking noise brought Gilbert's thoughts back to the current situation. When he realized that the door had been locked, he stared, confused, at Elizaveta but she only had an unreadable expression on her face.

"How do I look?" She asked. He waited a few moments before replying,

"You're beautiful."

The Hungarian gave a small smile and walked towards the silver-haired man, stopping right in front of him.

Gilbert said nothing. He observed her face, all made up, giving her rosy cheeks and plump lips before locking gaze with her. They stood, unblinkingly, as they watched each other. No words were exchanged.

Then Elizaveta reached her hands out towards Gilbert's unbuttoned front, fingers softly tracing the contours of his body. Gilbert shivered slightly at her touch but he never took his eyes off hers. Then slowly, he dipped his head, lips touching hers.

Her eyes fluttered shut as she returned the kiss, arms round his neck. He wrapped his arms round her slender waist, their lips locked for several moments before breaking apart. Silence filled the space between them.

"Gilbert..," Elizaveta whispered, breaking the silence, green eyes searching his red ones. Gilbert remained silent while he slowly removed her arms from round his neck.

"You shouldn't be here," he said softly, eyes watching her. She knew that. He knew that.

Gilbert cast a look out of the window where the blue sky was slowly being hidden by dark grey clouds before looking at the Hungarian again. Elizaveta, in her white wedding gown, flushed cheeks and red lips. He held out a hand and caressed her cheek softly, drinking in her features, knowing he would not have another opportunity to see her like this.

"You better go. Roderich would be worried if his bride were to go missing," he continued, giving her a small smile which lacked his usual charm.

There were many things Elizaveta wanted to tell Gilbert, but she remained silent. She pulled his hand away from her cheek before giving it a soft peck. Without looking at him, she turned away and walked towards the door.

"Goodbye, Gilbert."

It was a soft whisper, but to Gilbert it was loud. He watched her leave the room, closing the door behind her. As her footsteps faded, Gilbert looked away from the door and out the window. The first few drops of rain had fallen.

And he whispered ever so softly to himself, "I love you".