Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia, sadly. Only the plot.
This chapter was edited to make more sense. The edited part is where Francis is introduced.
Memories In The Sun.
Stepping out of the dull yellow taxi, Alfred's brown and worn out boots touched the ground. Shoving his hands in his bomber jacket, he let out a puffed breath of air, enjoying the chilly evening. As he stepped onto the crowded sidewalk, he breathed in deeply, giving a huge smile. The air was most certainly not the cleanest, nor did it have the nicest scent out there, but boy did it give a burst of energy. Well, to him at least.
Stepping in with the quick moving crowd, Alfred looked out in front of him, wondering where he should head to first. It had been a long time since he's visited here, so he was excited to say the least. Lost in his thoughts, he accidentally bumped into someone.
Successfully snapping out of his thoughts, he looked up, a grin plastered on his face. "Ah, sorry man, I didn-. . ." His azure eyes widened as his sentence died off on his lips. A few seconds passed by before he got over his surprise, and he grinned once more. "Arthur! Long time no see!"
Said person's eyes were just as big as Alfred's were a few moments ago. He was silent, not responding as he hadn't gotten over the shock yet. Snickering lightly, Alfred noticed that even with his eyes as wide as saucers, those hideous eyebrows still showed, and quite noticeably at that.
"W-what're you laughing at, you wanker?!" Arthur snapped out of the shock quite quickly when Alfred started snickering, and he fumed, red staining his cheeks. He hadn't seen this idiot in ages, and he bursts into laughter? The nerve of him!
Wiping tears from his eyes, Alfred smiled, holding back one last chuckle. "'S nothing, Arty." He grinned wider at the old nickname, remembering all the bittersweet memories it carried along with it.
Judging by the look Arthur had, he was remembering as well, but his reaction was the opposite. "I thought I told you not to call me that anymore." Acid green eyes narrowed dangerously, the Briton gave off quite an intimidating look.
Alfred waved his hand around, rolling his eyes. "Yeah, yeah." He looked back, a sly smile splayed out on his lips. "Iggy." At this, Arthur snapped and he smacked Alfred over the head, firing off insults at rapid speeds.
The blue eyed man merely laughed, holding up his hands in slight surrender. Smirk hidden by his hands, England didn't see it coming when Alfred quickly caught his wrists, effectively stopping the attacks on his head. He flashed a winning smile to Arthur. Right then Arthur swore his heart broke a second time.
Upon seeing Arthur's look of horror though, the smile was quickly replaced with a frown. "What?" He asked, confused.
Green eyes trailed down, and Alfred followed, before his mouth opened. "Oh." Letting go of Arthur's wrists, he looked away, rubbing his head sheepishly. "Sorry." He murmured. Arthur stood still and silent, before he sucked in his breath once more, yet didn't reply.
An idea flashed through Alfred's mind, and he quickly spun around to look back to Arthur, tapping his shoulder to get the man's attention once more. "Hey, how about we go to a café and catch up on the times, huh?" Arthur simply gazed at the taller man, silent, before he averted his gaze. "Bloody git."
Grabbing Arthur's mid arm, he proceeded to quick walk through the crowd, the Briton struggling to keep up and tripping over his feet a couple of times. "Alfred-! You git, slow down--!" Bumping into Alfred's back, he held his nose, glaring up at the back of the man's head for stopping so suddenly. "You bastard, what was that f-"
"We're here." Alfred interjected cheerily, and turned his head to smile at his old friend. Arthur's words died on his lips, and he pursed his lips, nodding. Fine, then. He'd get his turn to yell at the idiot later. Both entering, the bell jingled as the door opened, a cool fall breeze whipping around the entrance momentarily.
Alfred nodded his head to the third table near the window, signaling for Arthur to sit over there. Arthur frowned. "Just so you know I'm not going to drink any of that bloody 'coffee' of yours." Alfred waved his hand around, nodding. "Yeah, I know. Hot cocoa, right?" At the sign of the Briton's nod, he smiled at the cashier and told her their orders.
Feeling a short stab of pain in his chest, Arthur looked away from the scene briefly and headed over to the rounded table, taking his seat. Quit it, Arthur. He told himself, willing his heart to slow down. Cheeks flushed red, he tried to rid the emotions he thought he'd gotten rid of all those years ago, back when-
He grit his teeth together, and shoved the thought to the back of his mind. No, he wouldn't think of that. He had to move on, he shouldn't. . .dwell on the past. . . Eyes trailing back to Alfred, he noticed him flirting with the cashier, and the girl was flirting back, battering her eyelashes and her greedy eyes taking in all of Alfred's body like a fucking-
Looking away once more, Arthur steeled his heart and looked outside the window, taking deep breaths. Calm down, Arthur. . . Just when he felt like his heart was returning back to the pace it should be, he heard the chair in front of him scoot, and he looked over to see blue eyes meeting his own.
He mentally cursed the man as his face heated up quite noticeably, heart feeling as though it would jump out of his chest any moment now. "Here ya go, Iggy." Pushing the plastic cup over to the other man, Arthur snatched the cup out of his grip and brought it to his lips to take a drink.
"Hey, Arthur, you really shoud-" "BLOODY HELL!" Slamming the cup down, Arthur covered his mouth with both of his hands, eyes tearing. Alfred grinned, laughing. "I was going to warn you Arthur. You should know by now that hot cocoa means hot." Shaking around his cup of coffee, Alfred raised a blonde eyebrow. "And you said that I should stop being careless."
Glaring at Alfred, Arthur stuck out his tongue to cool it off, eyes squinted shut in pain. "Shuh uh." Waving his hand over his tongue to quicken the cooling, his face slowly relaxed, and he closed his mouth, wincing a bit as his tongue felt foreign now.
"You could've warned me sooner." Alfred shrugged, and took a sip of his coffee, a look of utter delight passing through his face. "At least I tried." He responded, feeling the steaming hot coffee rush down his throat and that sweet burning feeling afterwards. Oh how he loved coffee.
"So, what's up Iggy?" Crossing his arms and leaning back on his chair, an amused smile crossed over Alfred's face. Arthur rolled his eyes. "I'm here for something important, I just can't wait to get back home. . . " Lifting the cup to his lips once more, Arthur was more careful this time and blew first before taking a long sip, savoring the warmth it spread on the chilly day.
"Oh? And what's so important?" Alfred raised both eyebrows, and Arthur noted with a sinking feeling that he had caught his attention. Bloody hell. "None of your business, that's what." Arthur evaded, refusing to answer the man's question.
"Now that's no fun." Alfred pouted, obviously displeased with the answer. "It wasn't meant to be," Arthur retorted, eye twitching. Really, the man could be such a handful sometimes. "Well the reason I invited you here was to talk! Not to be all stiff and brooding."
"I am most certainly not brooding. I'm just wondering why on earth I have to be stuck with an idiot like you." Alfred laughed, and Arthur couldn't help but notice how beautiful he looked at that moment. "Ouch, Arthur. That hurt." Placing a hand over his heart, Alfred winked.
Breath hitching in his throat, Arthur grew silent, the heavy feeling overcoming him once more, weighing down his heart. Oh, how he missed the little boy by his side, overcome with joy when he came to visit. The little boy who came into his room shaking at night because he was afraid. The little boy who ate his food, complimented it, and was such a sweet child. His little boy.
But he was no longer his. No, he was his own now. He'd wanted to be free, and so he broke free of the weights restraining him to the ground. He grew his wings, and now he was flying. He had flown away from him, and he was never coming back.
"Alfred," Alfred murmured a small 'hm?', and after a moments hesitation, Arthur continued. "Do you, by chance, remember when you were younger and you tried to go out one night, but ended up hanging on a tree branch by your trousers?" Alfred's eyes widened, and to Arthur's amusement, flushed a light pink.
"I remember. . . Man, that was the worst wedgie ever!" Shuddering, America laughed lightly. Arthur shook his head. "I had to climb all the way up there and snip off your trousers, they were that snagged." The memory of Alfred crying, complaining about his 'pee-pee' hurting, and those innocent sky blue eyes peering up at him with big fat tears rolling down his face.
"I remember eating your food back then, too." Alfred grimaced. "I used to always have to compliment you. Ugh, man. I don't know how I ever lived without burgers!" Arthur smiled lightly, remembering the young boy compliment his food so joyously, it always brought a smile to his face. . . "Yes, you were quite the sweet child back then. . ."
Staring at Arthur, Alfred propped his chin on his palm, and lost himself in the memories, as well. Long games of tag and chasing each other around the house, eating that charred black thing Arthur called food, learning how to fire a musket after dreaming for so long of it. . . Memories of long hours in the field, with the sun burning down on their backs up to the point where it was uncomfortable. Laughing as if there wasn't a care in the world or a problem to deal with. That large, calloused hand reaching up to pat his sun kissed hair, emerald eyes shining with utmost care and adoration for him. For him.
"Alfred? What is it?" Blinking, Alfred slowly pulled out of his gaze, and realized he had been staring at Arthur the whole time. Cheeks flushing pink, he shook his head. "I sorta dazed out there," He laughed, trying to break the awkward aura, finding that it wasn't as forced as he thought it would be. Arthur looked a bit suspicious, but let it off surprisingly, and looked out the window, his mind seemingly somewhere else.
Sneaking another peek at his companion, Alfred took in all of his appearance, from his beautiful sandy blonde hair that resembled a mop to the point where it could be mistaken for one, to his great big caterpillar eyebrows which - deep down - he found just as beautiful. His heart swelled in his chest, and Alfred thought that maybe, just maybe, they could mend things, fix them. They wouldn't be quite the same, no. Nothing is the same after it's been broken and shattered. But it would be there again. They just had to take the time to pick all the pieces up and sit down to place them back together again.
"Hey, Arthur?" Peeling his gaze from the outside world, Arthur looked over to Alfred, giving him his utmost attention. I know I hurt you. . . But I hurt myself too. He had to do it, for his people, for himself. He couldn't be in those hands forever, the gravity constantly pulling him down to the earth. No. No, he needed to break free, extend his wings, and take flight in all confidence. Wings aren't meant for flapping uselessly against the weight of the world. No, wings were meant for flying, soaring.
But maybe we can let it go and move on. Maybe we can reach for not what we had back then, but something more, something different, something-
"Arthur? I've been looking for you for an hour, where have you be-Oh! Alfred!" Arthur and Alfred snapped their heads up to the new voice. Arthur was the first to recover from the surprise, and stuttered for a moment. Alfred raised an eyebrow.
"My apologies, Francis. I had bumped into Alfred, so I must have forgotten the time. . ." Francis smiled coyly, and nodded.
"It's alright, mon cheri." Francis took a hold of Alfred's hand and kissed the fingertips, looking up at him from his eyelashes. "Bonjour, Alfred."
From the corner of his eyes, Alfred saw Arthur cross his arms and furrow his eyebrows.
Standing up straight once more, Francis straightened out his clothes once more. "Ah, mon cheri, have you told our dear Alfred yet?" France inquired.
"Told me what?" Alfred interjected, raising a blonde brow. Arthur looked away.
"Ah, I see you haven't. . ." Francis sighed. "Me and Arthur are engaged, Alfred. I'm his fiancée, you see."
Heart stopping in his chest, Alfred's mind reeled backwards. What…Fiancée? He looked over to Arthur, only to see him still avoiding his eyes, flushing a deep red. Eyes trailing to the hand Arthur had on his cup, he noticed a gleaming gold ring.
I'm here for something important.
Why didn't I notice before? Alfred looked back to Francis, shock evident on his face. "W-What? You two? You guys hate each other though. . ." He winced as his voice broke at the end.
"Amour is surprising, non?" Francis strode over to an empty table and grabbed a seat, sitting next to Arthur.
Alfred's chest hurt unbelievably so. Resisting the urge to clutch at it, he stood up, holding his coffee cup. "I-I have to go, duty calls for the Hero." Forcing a laugh, he noticed Francis smiled and shook his head. "Still playing the role of a 'Hero', Alfred?" Alfred had never wanted to beat someone so senseless before.
"Well, it was nice talking to you again Arthur." Looking to Arthur, his gaze lingered, hoping the man would look to him, but he kept his gaze far away. Feeling betrayed and as though a thousand needles were piercing his heart, he nodded to Francis, and pushed in his chair.
"Adieu, Alfred!" The frenchman's voice rang from the table. Just when he thought that the pain couldn't get any worse, Arthur's voice rang loud and true, the words squeezing his heart painfully to the point where he couldn't breathe. "Good-bye, Alfred."
Walking out of the café as he pushed the doors open, a strong gust of wind blew all the flowers and grass away, wilting them as they went. The sunny skies turned into dark clouds, the sweet laughter twisting into deafening thunder. Fat teardrops fell from the heavens and he felt the warmth drained from him, up to the point where he was freezing and numb. Oh, so cold. As the doors closed behind him, those memories, those wants, those dreams, were forever lost to him.
He supposed - he thought with a bitter laugh - they just weren't meant to be after all.