Disclaimer: Don't own Hetalia

Author's Notes

Thoughts/ Flashbacks/ Texting

Notes/ Letters

"Talking"

Simple enough, no?

Alright, so this is a short fic dedicated to England/Canada which doesn't get enough love.


Facebook-Status Update: Elizaveta Hedervary

Hero Alfred (Superman) Jones posted a comment.

Yooooo! If i dont hear from mattie, i m cmng ovr there rite away! like srsly, i'll cum ovr and throw a fit liek back in grade school!

Comments:

-Geez, Al, don't throw a fit like in grade school. God, you even more annoying back then.

-i'm serious! i havent heard from him! i'm getting worried!

-relax, he's a legal adult, he doesn't need you to as a babysitter.

-i'm his best buddy! it's only cuz i care!

-ok fine, fine, i get it. bro code. i wish you guys would date... but u just HAAAD to be strait.

-yeah, yeah, so tell me, is mattie still there?

-no. He left.

-AAAARRGGGHHHH, he's not at his apartment! and he's not answering my ccccallls! damn, where r u, mattie?


Answering Machine of Matthew Williams: Messages (13)

"Mattie! Awesome party, right?"

"Duuuuude, I got laid and I totally need to talk to you about it! I know you're all gay and stuff, but I got a picture and I think even you would be impressed..."

"Okay, if you're ignoring me, I get it! Sorry for not talking to you more! I was just really busy at the party..."

"Matthew, did you get laid?! That's totally awesome! You gotta call me and give me the details. It was Gilbert, right? Please tell me it was Gilbert. And call me! I wanna hear!"

"Are you sleeping in? Is that it? Did he really bang you that hard? Damn, and you never sleep in that late!"

"Okay, dude, have you been ignoring me? Is it because you were busy or are you sulking or are you ashamed or something? Come on, sorry if I'm being insensitive or something. Sorry for being... um, annoying? I'm just really, uh, excited to hear about you finally-"

"Oh my god, is that it? Did Gilbert do something to piss you off? Did he hurt you? If he hurt you, you just tell me and I'll beat his shit out!"

"Mattie, are you okay? I'm kind of worried now. Can you call me just so I know you're okay? We don't have to talk about it if you don't want to... or if, uh, you know, it's too painful to talk about..."

"Gilbert just told me through Facebook that you two didn't sleep together. Is that it? Dude, he totally wanted to sleep with you last night. Did you get shy? Or nervous or something? Did he make you uncomfortable last night? He's into you, man. Did he say something?"

"Dude! This is getting really stupid! Why are you ignoring me, man?!"

"Matthew? I didn't mean you were stupid or anything. I just meant that-well, dude you're seriously worrying me now and I don't think I've been out of contact with you for this long since we were little kids..."

"Okay, technically not true, but you know, we're always in touch! Why are you shunning me now? I'm coming over!"

"Matthew! Okay, now I'm worried. I need you to return my calls now! Come on, before I call the police!"


First Person POV: Matthew

I left my cell phone off deliberately, knowing who would be calling and just how frequently.

Alfred had been my friend since... forever. He was a little obsessed with me, to be honest, and not in the creepy way, you know, the perverted way.

His obsession was a more pure one. You see, ever since we were kids, he'd been the one who defended me and stood up for me whenever I was too shy to do it myself (and sometimes even when I was!). He was the nicest, strongest, most loyal friend you could have and I guess he always had a really soft spot for me. I guess he was drawn to vulnerability, you know, being the hero and all. He'd always been glued to my side, convinced I was too weak to take care of myself and therefore need his heroic strength at all times.

He was still under the impression that I needed him.

As a friend, yes, I loved him. I did need him to be there. He was one of my few friends, a friend I knew I could rely on.

But that didn't mean I relied on him. I didn't cling to him anymore and I didn't break down into a sobbing, suicidal ball whenever he wasn't around anymore. I love the guy, really, I do, but sometimes his obsessive tendencies, like calling me a dozen times and constantly checking on me and always pestering other people on my whereabouts, what I was doing, and specifically what they had done to me, how they'd hurt poor Mattie's feeling again... welll, his obsessive tendencies could a little bit annoying.

Times had changed. And I had changed with them.

Yeah, okay, I'll admit it, my voice is still quiet. I still find it difficult to say what I'm thinking. Inside my head, I think dry, acerbic sarcasm and spout witty wordplay, but when I open my mouth, the words still don't come out the way I want them to. But inside my heart, I know I'm stronger. I know I'm not a pushover anymore, or at least, not as much of one. I know what the word no means and I know how to use it. I know when to use it and I can definitely assert the power of the word "no" whenever I want to. Well... when I absolutely need to, anyway.

But when even though I was more sure of myself, even though I knew that "no" was in my dictionary and key arsenal of fighting tactics, even though I was absolutely sure that in no way was Matthew Williams still sensitive, still hurt by that betrayal so many years ago, still as Gilbert would term it, butthurt about being cheated on by a high school crush. No way.

No way was Matthew Williams still in love, no, still even interested in someone like Arthur Kirkland, famous author, and boyfriend of an even more famous, on-his-way-to-millionaire status artist who was, did I mention, handsome and sexy and daring and successful and a genius? No way... right?

Okay, fine, what can I say? No, I was not attracted to him. Well, not because of the reasons listed above. Because I do not care about him being a famous author or the boyfriend of an even more famous, on-his-way-to-millionaire status, handsome, sexy, daring, and successful, genius-artist.

What I did care about... wait, why am I attra-and I'm not saying I'm attracted to him! I just... am just wondering why he... intrigues me so much. If it's not jealousy of either one, then what is it? As many people have told me, during freshmen year and most of sophomore year (mostly it was my friends and Arthur's enemies), he was bitter. Not particularly handsome. A kind of sour, dry humor. A cynical nihilist. A pessimistic, stubborn bastard who could never see the bright side of things and was always complaining, regardless of how much luck his life truly dealt. A complete bastar.

Hell, he even cheated on his boyfriend! Twice! Granted, not the same boyfriend, but still, bad enough! And that's not even mentioning the fact that it was same guy he-! Okay, we've been over this.

Sorry. Where was I?

Oh yeah, I'm not pushover, Arthur Kirkland is indisputably an ass... and when I look him straight in the eyes and he looks right back, I felt like none of it mattered.

My knees felt weak, my legs felt like lead, my head felt empty, my mouth felt dry, my heart beat a little bit faster, and my lips spoke without my mind's consent.

And I'd be damned if I would admit the reason why.


Second Person POV: Arthur Kirkland

You stare at me with conflicted eyes, I see. Violet eyes, the likes of which I'd never seen on another human being (well, besides that creepy guy, whatsisface, the guy with the scarf? But he doesn't count, he's just some creepy stalker guy that I spent high school avoiding).

I don't remember this part of you. I don't remember you ever having so much fire in those eyes. They sparkle with a kind of zany energy I'd never seen in them. They're exciting, more mischievous, more desirable than I ever remembered.

You seem so confident now, staring at me straight in the eyes, taking a sip of your water without glancing away. What are you looking at? Are you evaluating me? Trying to see what game I'm playing?

Well I'm not playing anything. I'm curious. Curious about this new You, this new version of a friend I once knew.

Where did this attraction come from?

That's the root question of my curiosity. Where? Less important are when and how. When did you get so interesting? And how, how after all these years and after both of us grew up a little, how am I still attracted to you?

"This probably wasn't a good idea," you say bluntly, very suddenly. Was my Mattie ever so upfront?

"I know," I say. "But I'm... terribly confused."

"Oh, is that right?" you say, a terribly sly, sarcastic grin on your mouth. "Well here's the summary: we got drunk, fucked, and then you dragged me here. End of story. And you can write this next one: after this, I leave, you got your boyfriend and fess up, and everyone's dandy."

Was my Mattie ever so brutal? Did I not notice? Was it there all along? Or maybe you simply grew up?

"I'm sorry if this seems... confusing. I'm confused too," I clarify. "I'm very confused. I don't... get why I'm attracted to you." There it was, the big confession. I expected you to look confused as well. I expected that fiery little glint of aggression to die down. I expected you to sit back and look stunned or look bashfully flattered but a little bit annoyed too. I expected you to do that cute thing with your hands where you grab your wrist and subconsciously rub it, like you weren't sure if it had disappeared and you needed to reassure yourself.

But today is certainly a day of surprises. And you seem to be full of them.

"So I'm older," you say. "And maybe you're just surprised that I don't look the same. So what? Why would you risk a relationship for that? We fu-we f-screwed, okay? That's all! Nothing more, nothing less. I'm sorry if I... I don't know, came on to you last night or something. But I didn't mean to come between you and Francis last night and I don't intend to keep doing it! Your his and I understand completely! I just don't-don't get why you-you keep pressing on like this-"

"Because I felt something last night," I say eagerly. "Because I feel something, right now."

"Don't tell me you have a boner," you quip. And coming from you, such a bold line makes me laugh. And for the first time in a while, it feels good. Simple. Easy. Strangely uplifting.

"No, not like that."

I mean, you're crazy sexy and definitely appeal to multiple fetishes of mine, but that's not it! I wouldn't cheat on my boyfriend just because of something like that! I've met plenty of sexy guys I've wanted to bone and I've resisted (even when drunk!), remembering and chanting in my head, 'I love Francis, he's my boyfriend, I love him, he is mine, and I am his.

"No, this is different. Wanna know how I know?"

You look at me, waiting for me to get on with it. I almost laugh at that expression you're making. So cute! You almost look like a cuter version of me! A much, much cuter version of me. Well, no, you just look like you with a typical Arthur Kirkland expression that would look ugly on anyone but you.

"Get on with it."

Oh, you're so assertive now. I think I like it. It's kind of charming to see the meek become sarcastic, witty, and scathingly harsh. But I can see through you, Mattie. I can see you're still my Mattie, somewhere in that mask of hurt.

I can see you.


First Person POV: Matthew

Oh crap, he's reaching for my hand. Should I pull away?

But too late, he has my hand now and his fingers are warm against my palm. He rubs it gently and I shiver involuntarily. Damn him!

"Last night was great. I'm sorry I cheated on Francis and involved you because I know something like this would grate on your conscience. I am sorry about that," he said colloquially, airily, as if he didn't care for the implications of his words.

My anger surged, but none of it showed on my face.

"I'm also sorry that you're so upset right now. And I'm really sorry for... cheating on you."

He said the one thing he wasn't supposed to say.

I snatched my hand away from him very suddenly, hurt rising inside of me like a snake, cleaving the anger in two.

"You can't say that," I hissed. "You are not allowed to say that."

"Matthew, what-?"

"You're a bastard," I said. "And I can't believe you! What we had is over! It is completely over. Finished! And I was perfectly okay with it. I got over it. It should be end of story, but you-you-"

I wasn't sure what I wanted to say, so I looked down angrily, glaring at the table cloth as if it were Arthur Kirkland and done me a personal wrong.

What did I want to say? There was so much, but I wasn't sure where to start.

"Ma-Mattie, I-"

"No!" I said sharply. "No! Listen, Kirkland, when we... broke up, there's a reason I didn't call you or contact you. I didn't want to see you or hear from you because I was hurt. I didn't want apologies then and I don't want them now and especially not now. What we just did was... despicable. I-Even if you do... care about me in some way, any way, you're not allowed to apologize to me! You're not allowed to feel anything for me, not while you're with someone else! Especially when it's-it's been such a long time-"

"Matthew, I love Francis, but for a long time, we've been growing apart," he said painstakingly. "He's been very distant with me and I don't-I'm not sure if I love him anymore. I want him to be happy and I don't think I make him happy anymore. He's always busy and he's always working. I think he's dedicated to his work and I'm not going to stand in his way or hold him back. I was thinking about breaking it off with him since-since... for a long while, now."

I stared at him.

"Really?" Was he serious? These were reasons, the excuses he was using?

"Really," he said earnestly.

"Is that what you said to Francis when you cheated on me? Is that what you said to yourself? Is that how you justified it? Growing apart? Dedicated to work? These aren't things you cheat on someone for! You break up with him before sleeping with someone else. Or maybe you still haven't learned."


First Person POV: Arthur

Angrily, he slammed his hand on the table, eliciting a few curious (read:surprised) glances his way. But he wasn't looking at them, he was looking at me.

And I will tell you honestly, his words hurt. Hurt to the core.

And it was because of just how true they were.

I was a horrible, horrible bastard. None of my excuses were good ones (there aren't many good excuses for cheating) and every point he had hit painfully deep.

But Francis, oh, it was so hard to defend him anymore! It was so hard to think about him when I was staring at Matthew. It was hard (well, harder) to feel bad for him when I remembered those lonely nights waiting for him, only for him to call and tell me not to wait up, that he was fine, and he would probably wouldn't be back for a while.

God, I wanted to be pitied so bad. I wanted Francis to feel bad for me and come home and spend time with me the way we used to. When we were in high school, we were almost inseperable. I know things are different now that we're adults, but is it so bad to long for it? I wanted Matthew to pity me, to hate Francis with me, to bemoan our loneliness together, or at least tell me that I wasn't completely in the wrong. I wanted someone to tell me, hey, Arthur, you didn't fuck up royally again. Just once.

But no one pitied me. And I had fucked up. Fucked up pretty badly this time. Again.

I wouldn't pity me.

"I need to go," Matthew said suddenly, all the anger in his voice seeming to deflate. "Alfred probably wants to hear back from me."

"Wait, don't go!" I cried. As pathetic as that sounds. "Matthew, I really screwed up, I know. But what if I told you I was going to break up with Francis? What then?"

"What then?" he repeated, staring down at me with a quizzical look, his eyebrows twitching slightly with some unnamed emotion.

I nodded earnestly.

"Nothing, Arthur," he said slowly. "I don't think I could trust you ever again. And I'm starting to think that know, no one could."

And that hammered the nail in deep. With his last, withering words, his eyes cold, he stood up and left me alone.


First Person POV: Matthew

You don't know how hard it was for me to walk away. And I don't think you know how hard it was to turn my back on someone who had once held my heart and crushed it or how hard it was hear him say sorry and not take him back with open arms.

And you'll (probably) never know how hard it was not to look back at him, to see if he started crying or was just staring at me in shock.

No, you won't know, but you can imagine it.

As I'm sure you can imagine me crying my eyes out the moment I was out of sight.


Four Years Ago...

"Hey! Hey Mattie!"

I glanced around, alarmed for a moment. But it was just Alfred with his bullhorn voice. Silly me.

"Hi," I whispered. "Um, how are you-?"

"Doing fine!" he shouted. "Listen, I was wondering if you were going to Gilbert's par-tay!"

"No," I shook my head. "Too loud."

"Aw, dude, but you like loud, right?" he crowed, well, loudly. I smiled.

"Eh-heh, I guess."

"Good! You going to come, then?" he said. "I know Gilbert really wants to see you-!"

"Oh," instantly I felt myself deflate. Oh drat it all, Gilbert wanted to have one of his "special" talks with me. Only gosh knows what he would say this time... "Alfred, can you please tell him that I am dating Arthur and none of the gossip he spreads about Arthur and Francis is going to stop me. Please also tell him I care about him as a friend and not a boyfriend and I'm sorry, but that's the way it's going to be. Also tell him I'm not going."

"What? Why not? Listen, if he bothers you, just tell him to go away," Alfred said. "Or I'll tell him for you."

"I don't want to go."

"Why? Just because he's going to be there?" Alfred persisted.

"No, parties just aren't... my scene."

"Okay, okay, I've got it! I won't tell anyone you're going. How's that? No one will bother you then," he suggested.

"Alfred, I told you-" I started to say exasperatedly, but he bull-dozed right over me, as per usual.

"Okay, that's the plan then! Cool! See you at the party!" and with that, he scurried off before I could protest. As per usual.


Facebook-Status Update: Hero Alfred (Superman) Jones

Yo, every1! m going 2 gil's party! gonna be fun!

also, matt is definitely not coming.

Comments:

-uh, okay, that's kind of random

-y not?

-he's sooooo shy, man!

-he says it's not his scene. btw, u r cmng, rite?

-sure.

-awsum, wanna get laid? u no, with me?

-DUDE! u got srs balls!

-uh, thanks?

-idk, alfred, cud u handle me? ;)

-my god, this party cant cum quick enuff.

-Uh, you're disgusting, Alfred. I'm getting off your page.

-Y R u here in the 1st place, artie? geez, don't like me, don't read my status updates! btw, he's your bf, and u r going, dont u want him to come?

-He told me he doesn't want to and I respect his decision.


Text-Subject: Party

To:Matthieu103

It's a shame you're not coming. Here I am, going alone...

From: ArthrKLand


Text-Subject:Party

To:ArthrKland

Do you really want me to come?

From:Matthieu103


Text-Subject:RE:Party

To: Matthieu103

Of course I fdpo,io mk

From: ArthrKland


"Damnit, frog, quit it," Arthur hissed. He fumbled for his phone. And cursed as he saw the message was sent. "You blithering fool."

"Hmm," Francis mumbled, smiling into Arthur's collarbone, his even white teeth nipping him again. Arthur flinched.

"What the hell are you doing?" he hissed. "Stop it! You know how messed up this is?"

"What, texting your boyfriend while you theenk of me?" Francis purred lasciviously. "Because I know you theenk of me when you're having sex wiz hi-"

"Pervert!" Arthur growled. "I do not! We don't have sex!"

Francis laughed, a silvery, carefree laugh and flung his arm around Arthur's shoulders. Arthur shook him off and the other blond simply laughed and took his arm back. "Well that explains why you prefer me-"

"I don't prefer you, wanker!"

"Oho?" Francis sounded slightly miffed now. "So you don't prefer me? Which is why I am in the car with you and going to a party with you eenstead of heem?"

"I'm only taking you because Matthew doesn't want to go," Arthur gritted his teeth.

"And you only kiss me and love me because he won't?" Francis asked slyly. Laughing again as the Brit lightly slapped his shoulder.

"Shut it!"

They lapsed into silence.

"So how are zings between you two?" Francis asked. "Not fighteeng, true?"

"No."

"Ah, of course not! He never does fight much, not for heemself or for anyone else," the blond murmured. "Tell me, do you zink he'd even react badly if he caught us in ze act or do you zink he would simply close the door and back away like the coward-"

"Shut it, you damnable French cheese-eating twat!" Arthur spat. "He's a good kid!"

"I did not say he was not," Francis huffed. "Seemply a coward. Do you zink, if you pres-shured heem enough, he'd go for a threesome-?"

Arthur stomped on the brakes. Francis had to throw his hands up to avoid smacking his face on the dashboard. Before he could comment on Arthur's driving, he found two hands curled into fists into his white collar.

"Don't-you-dare," Arthur spat the last word like venom, "call him a coward! Understand?"

Francis glared at him, his bright blue eyes as vicious as Arthur's green eyes.

"You're going to have to choose eventually," he spat back. "Who's it going to be? Me or him? You can't have both. If you want me, then goddamnit, take me! Don't force me to hide because you're too much of a coward to tell him about us!"


Arthur Kirkland has posted on his blog.

It was a bit of a relief. I'd been hiding the truth from my boyfriend for too long. It was starting to tear me apart, honestly. He was so nice and kind and a really, really good guy. I know he'll find someone better than me. If he's reading this (and I don't think he is, because he quit all communication with me), then Mattie, I have to sort out my feelings and I'm so, so sorry I used you to do it. I'm so sorry that while I was trying to figure out how I felt and who I was I was hurting you. I'm sorry you had to find out like that. I was going to tell you, but... things got out of control that night. I guess that's what I'm most sorry about.

I'm sorry we had to end things like that.


First Person POV: Matthew

Yes, before you ask, I did read his blog. From the moment he got one, I would read his blog, loving his words and his writing and knowing he would be a great writer someday. I would read every entry and fall deeper in love with him one by one. All before he even spoke to me.

When he wrote that he was sorry, all those sorrys and apologies, so sorry, incredibly sorry, I couldn't help but feel sorry for him.

Sorry that I could still love him, even though I knew he was a bastard. Sorry that I still read what he wrote (yes, that included all of his critically-trashed books, but at the time, he was just a blogger). Sorry that I still loved him, even when he didn't love me back. Sorry that his feelings weren't as strong as mine.

Sorry that he was sorry.

I guess back then, I was just soppy like that. But now, I suppose I got the last laugh, didn't I? I guess absence really does make the heart grow fonder. Here Arthur was, wanting me, and I was not falling for it. Not again. I wouldn't fall into his trap again!

And I do admit, it gives me a sadistic pleasure to be the one who gets to crush the other's feelings. Perhaps he's feeling the rejection I felt. Perhaps he's feeling the hurt and confusion I did. And maybe Francis will know how he made me feel all those years ago.

Or maybe they won't. Whatever. I'm over it. I might still have feelings for Arthur, but I sure don't have to show that I do. Because I already made that mistake once, you see, and unlike Arthur, I learn from my mistakes.


Whew.

Matthew's kind of a jerk in this chapter, but you know, I never saw Canada as a softie, just a really, really nice, polite Canadian guy. Not as long as my usual length, but I'm about satisfied with this one. If it seems kind of disjointed, that's because half of it was done in one in the morning and when I began working on it again, it was like the afternoon of the next day... and things might come off as... disjointed.