Tripping Destiny

Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia

This is what I should've told you . . .

"Hey Matty!"

A hand came out and slapped Canada hard on the back. A friendly blow, but one that distracted him and caused him to drop a book he was reading. Bending down to retrieve it, Canada froze, feeling his little heart flutter in his chest the moment he laid his big blue eyes on a head of silver hair.

Before he knew it, those beautiful pair of shining ruby eyes were fixed on his, and Canada's cheeks started to warm.

It feels like I've known you for a while . . .

"Oh hey!" Canada scratched the back of his head nervously. "You s-scared me."

Prussia chuckled, standing up straight and handing the book back to Canada.

"Does my pure epic-ness intimidate you?" Prussia said with a smug smirk on his face. Canada stood up, holding his hands and his book behind his back, trying to avoid turning into an idiot in front of Prussia.

He liked Prussia. He like liked Prussia.

I know I'm nothing more than a country . . .

And the thought of it made his cheeks glow a light shade of red. His palms got sweaty just thinking about it, and he tried to hide it with all he could. But Prussia sensed something going on, and his faced softened a little.

"You okay, Canada?" He asked, a hint of concern in his voice.

"Oh? I'm fine!" Canada forced a cheesy smile to hide his nervousness. "I'm brilliant!"

I look forward to seeing you every day . . .

"You probably stepped in something," Prussia shrugged, dismissing the little Canadian's moment and turning around to head back to where he was going. Canada furrowed his brow and checked the bottom of his shoes to confirm Prussia was wrong.

Thank goodness he hadn't stepped in anything.

"Well, I guess I'll see you later, then," Canada blushed. Prussia tilted his head in Canada's direction and flashed a cheeky grin before heading off.

Because I love you . . .

Canada immediately headed home, feeling shamed. He could've told Prussia then and there how he felt. He felt miserable for going all awkward on him . . . he really wished he could be more confident . . . heroic, even.

Like America.

Like my brother . . . I'll always cherish and adore you . . .

Canada was lost deep in thought that he didn't notice it started to rain. He felt the cool droplets on his back as he walked with his shoulders slumped and his head tilted to the ground. His face was saturated from the rain before he knew it, but the water was warm, refreshing, and the droplets pouring from the sky seemed to help ease the fact he was sad, ashamed, and he felt ever so lonely it made his chest ache.

It's just a stupid infatuation . . .

Infatuated.

All of a sudden, Canada felt his stomach sink. Oh, how he hated that word. Of all the words in the dictionary he could've hated, it was that one.

Because that's all it was!

A desperate, lonesome infatuation with a country who doesn't care that you exist.

Just a nobody . . .

Canada felt suddenly light.

He tripped over a crack in the ground and found himself falling, falling, directly towards a puddle of rainwater.

He closed his eyes and embraced himself to be saturated.

But wait . . .

Something stopped him . . .

He wasn't falling any more. Two hands had caught him, and he was pulled up. He thought it was America who'd come and saved him from a puddle, a "heroic thing indeed, it goes to prove I am an hero!" according to America, anyway.

Those arms embraced him, and a soft hand petted his saturated mop of hair. Canada closed his eyes and embraced the warmth, when a hand tilted his head up and a pair of ruby eyes was down on his.

Those eyes never fail to draw me in . . .

Oh, bother.

"Canada?" Prussia said softly, confused, and as soaking wet as he was. "Why are you crying?"

Canada froze. So the hot droplets on his face wasn't rain after all. He was crying!

I should tell you . . . I should've told you . . .

"Oh," Canada pulled away from Prussia, not wanting to appear as a wimp in front of him. He furiously wiped the tears away from him, and looked up bravely into Prussia's eyes.

Something warm seemed to fill his body. It felt like the sun had burned a hole in the grey skies and covered his skin in a warm radiance that seemed to erase him of any negativity. It felt like e was wrapped in a warm blanket, wrapped in invisible arms that assured him, peace, tranquillity, love.

I really like you, Prussia . . .

Say it, Canada told himself, feeling mad he couldn't get the words out. Tell him now!

"Canada, is there something you want to tell me?" Prussia whispered, standing only five centimetres before him.

I know, it's silly, but . . . you make me smile . . .

"Um . . ." Canada paused, feeling all awkward and shy.

You make me smile . . .

His face flushed bright red. He would've bet five bucks it could've evaporated the water off his face.

You make me laugh . . .

"Actually . . ." Canada closed his eyes and tried to force it out.

I love you, Prussia!

"Thanks."

An awkward silence filled the street. Apart from the drumming rain surrounding and drenching them.

"Yeah," Canada scratched his neck nervously, "Thanks for catching me."

Prussia looked a little puzzled. And in his ruby gaze, Canada sensed something he couldn't quite explain.

But it wasn't good.

It looked like hurt.

It felt like hours before Prussia replied.

"Everybody trips," Prussia said in a neutral tone, staring out into space, avoiding Canada's gaze, "Not just over a crack in the ground, but life's stuff-ups as well."

Canada raised his eyebrows slightly at Prussia, wondering what he was talking about.

"People are there to catch you or pick you up," Prussia continued. "Me, America . . ."

Canada blinked, unsure what to say.

"Sometimes you trip and you gotta pick yourself up." Prussia shrugged, closing his eyes so Canada couldn't see his ruby gaze. "Sometimes you won't have the guts to do it, and you'll curl up into a little ball and cry, because no one will be there to help you when you really need it."

"P-Prussia?" Canada stammered.

"Tripping Destiny," Prussia turned around and dismissed his little discussion. "Well, do you need me to walk you home?"

Prussia . . .

"N-no thankyou," Canada was so bright red he wondered if he looked like Prussia's eyes.

But like his profound blushing, he could no longer see Prussia's beautiful gaze. His back was turned, facing Canada, his shoulders slumped slightly.

"Y'know, one day, you'll want to tell someone something that means so much to you," Prussia sighed, sounding down, bitter in a way Canada had never heard before.

"What are you saying, Prussia?" Canada whimpered, feeling nervous all of a sudden.

"I'm saying, wait too long, you might be too late."

Too late . . .

I never said it when America told me to . . .

"Prussia?" Canada sounded alarmed, but Prussia was already leaving. Before he knew it, he'd disappeared into the rain.

Knowing that he was alone again, Canada dropped to his knees. Tears threatened to spill, but he held them back.

Wait too long . . . and it might be too late . . .

"I love you, Prussia," He whimpered, the wind carrying his voice through the rain and out into the open. But no one else could hear them.

Prussia was gone.

Dedicated to, and in loving memory of, TrippingDestiny. Rest In Peace, our thoughts are with you, always xx