Hi, author note. I made this for my English assignment and thought I may as well put it up.
Disclamer: I do not own hetalia, any of it's characters and I make no profit from this. all rights go to the makers of hetalia.
The cave mouth yawned darkly as the young man looks into the darkness.
It's quite fitting, dark, like my black soul. He thinks. He walks with purpose to meet the darkness and the cold.
Inside the cave is empty, old and worn by the water. The young man unpacks what little belongings he has brought with him in his search to find solitude. The young man is pale with sharp features, high cheek bones and blue eyes so dark they look black. This contrasts with the platinum blond hair that frames his face as it falls to his jaw. He moves carefully as if whatever he touches may break, but also with unconscious grace and beauty that comes with co-ordinated tall people, like ballet dancers. He seems strong, but not in the physical sense: he doesn't have obvious muscle but the way he acts, for he only thinks himself strong enough to break things so moderates that strength which he has. He wears a long cream coat that brushes the back of his thighs and a scarf of a light brown that falls to his knees; it is always over his shoulders and out the way. He takes his brown boots off and places them at the end of his sleeping bag.
He walks outside to sit on a rock; he gazes up at the silver moon.
So cold and distant... Lonely, lost in the sea of unforgiving stars, but a friendly planet to orbit. Like me lost in the crowd of unforgiving stares but I have no planet to orbit, she is gone now... He thinks of all he lost. His pride, his reputation, his respect, his family, his love, his life... Himself.
He doesn't remember doing what they say he did, but he can't prove them wrong either because he can't remember what he did at that time either. He can't remember that night at all. They blame him because he was the closest person to her heart, all the evidence points to him. But he wouldn't hurt her... He wouldn't do that kind of thing to her, sure he could do it to someone he hated but not her, never her.
As he kept on thinking, other thoughts joined in to create a canopy of noise in his head.
There was blood on your hands and scarf.
It was a crime of passion; you were showing her how much you loved her.
She belongs there, not here. The young man starts shaking with suppressed emotion.
"Shut up!" The man screams out loud, gripping his hair. Hot, salt tears stream down his cheeks.
Look at you, weak. She could never really love you.
Why did you even bother to try loving her? It would have happened anyway. It was just the timing.
She loved the children more than you. Look at the love she lavished on them.
What would it take for things to be quiet...? Quiet like the snow.
She was beautiful, graceful like a swan or swift, she loved to dance. The way she span and twirled was as beautiful as a feather in the wind. The way her dress flared out like flower petals. She would dance for the children; they would laugh and try to copy. She dreamt of dancing in a proper ballet, she would be perfect for the swan in Swan Lake. She was thin and pale, her eyes were green like the new spring leaf just uncurling. She was small and fragile, so breakable. She held herself straight and perfect like a deer ready to spring and bound. She was so innocent, always looking for the best in people.
And she even tried to find good in me.
What good?
You're a monster, a beast. Not even human.
She didn't see any good in you, but what she wanted to see, love does that to people.
"I can be good, I'm sorry... I can be." He pleaded with no-one.
Then the memories of that night come rushing back...
Home. A large house, expensive, her family has wealth, earned in business. She was standing by the window, looking out across the snowy yard. She was wearing a red traditional Chinese dress with the long sleeves so you couldn't see her hands. She doesn't glance at me as I walk in.
"Yao. I can be good, I'm sorry... I can be what you want me to be." I beg, I had fallen out of her favour due to a drunken rage.
"I thought you could be what I saw in you... Seems not to be though." Her disappointment thick in her tone, one that would send me spiralling down to the darkest pits.
"What did you see?" I snap at her, tone sharp as the blade I keep at my side.
"I see love, hope, and potential. You do not give any love to anyone. Not even me. Your wife!" She yells at me. Oh how I loved her, It broke my heart and spirit to do what I did.
I remember now. I remember awful, pained screams and red. Beautiful, scarlet, dripping red.