/ People, I have updated. \(*^*)/ Can you believe that? Goodness, I am so sorry. It's terrible. My muse decided to run away and I can't write my thesis. T_T Sorry if this is a bit different from what you all became accustomed too. It's just... How long has it been since I last updated? One, two months? It can't be helped. Still, I hope you enjoy this chapter. I worked real hard on it. :) I hope you all forgive me for my neglect. /

CHAPTER NINE

Soon

Arthur kicked the door open and collapsed, Ivan unconscious on top of him. He had used magic to get them back to the Russian's house in a moment of panic when he saw Ivan fall. It was the only thing he could do for Ivan. Though the Briton didn't exactly know what the Russians were fighting about, he had a feeling that it has something to do with him, directly or no.

Arthur turned to look at his companion. Ivan's eyes were closed and a trickle of blood flowed from a wound on his forehead. Arthur felt his heart clench. He didn't like the way Ivan looked so vulnerable right then. He didn't like the fact that Ivan's not smiling like he always did.

He dragged Ivan to the couch and clumsily tried to put the bigger man on it but he kept failing miserably. He didn't have a spark of magic left in him after he wasted so much when he teleported them in a panic that he couldn't even levitate small objects let alone a man twice his size. Sighing heavily, the Briton simply laid Ivan gently on the floor.

Half an hour later, Arthur had finished cleaning and dressing Ivan's wounds but the Russian still hadn't woken up. It worried Arthur, who clutched on to the Russian's large hand desperately. He stared at Ivan's closed eyes, willing them to open.

Hours pass and he never left the larger man's side except when really necessary. He was obviously exhausted; he had dark bags under his eyes, his hair was more of a mess than usual, his complexion pale and pallid. But his eyes held determination and hope, his left hand continuously stroking Ivan's hair and his right hand still clutching the other's.

He briefly wondered why he was so worried. It was a fleeting moment; he knew immediately what the reason was. Arthur squeezed Ivan's hand tighter, at least as much as he could. He wanted to stay by Ivan's side. He wanted to always see Ivan smiling and laughing.

He was in love with Ivan.

But what about Alfred?

The thought didn't even cross Arthur's mind during the time he watched the hours tick by and Ivan's eyes were still closed. He didn't think of anybody, or anything really, besides Ivan. Besides his new beloved.

Arthur sighed and slumped his shoulders. He was tired, and he knew Ivan wouldn't approve of what he was doing. So he snuggled close to Ivan, hugging the Russian's large body.

"I love you too, Ivan," he whispered, before he too closed his eyes.

~.;*;.~

Ivan woke up feeling warm.

It took a while before his thoughts registered and his eyes widened as they scanned the surroundings. He was in his living room. He breathed a sigh of relief. There was a dull throbbing on his forehead but he didn't mind it much. He was used to fights, and he was used to pain.

Arthur! He thought, and he sat up hurriedly. There was a pressure on his right hand, and he smiled warmly when he was that Arthur was holding his hand. It felt... Nice. He squeezed the Briton's hand, as if checking if it was all a dream. But it wasn't, and Arthur's hand felt warm in Ivan's cold hand.

Ivan saw Arthur's eyelids flutter and he smiled. He had to greet his beloved warmly! But his happy thoughts were replaced with worry when what met him was a pair of emerald eyes glistening in tears.

~.;*;.~

"That's great, bastard," Lovino huffed after Alfred finally pronounced a Latin proverb right after what seemed to be more than a hundred failed attempts. He had to admit that he felt proud though. He knew that soon, the American would be able to recite the teleportation spell without errors, and it would be thanks to him. Also since he knew that Arthur would be happier with the American around.

Lovino, despite his rough demeanor to everybody, is very loyal to his friends. He would help them as long as he wouldn't be doing anything against the law. Or at least as long as he doesn't get caught, but nothing like murder and the likes. He would go through lengths to make his friends happy, which is why he didn't refuse Alfred's request. It wasn't because the idiot was crying at his doorstep!

Lukas is the same kind of person. And both of them knew it. They wanted Arthur to be happy; he was the best friend a person could ever ask for. He made them happy, so they have to make him happy in return.

"This means that I can go see Arthur soon, right?" Alfred asked, his eyes bright with anticipation. To say that he was excited was an understatement.

"Yes, bastard, soon," Lovino responded. He smiled cheekily before saying, "About another week or so."

"You're trying to stall me!" Alfred accused.

"Of course not," Lovino snapped. He knew what was at stake, and he wanted Alfred to go then, but he also knew that going then would have the highest risk of failure. No, they had to train him more.

"We don't like keeping Arthur in Russia just as much as you do," Lukas said, coming to the Italian's aid. "But we can't risk it. We have to make sure everything's fine. Remember: you still have to know how to go back."

Alfred pouted. "I know. Sorry."

"It's not like we don't understand, idiot," Lovino said, plopping himself on the couch and crossing his arms. "We want to see him too."

"Therefore," Lukas continued. "We have to make this as failsafe as possible."

At that, Lovino grinned. "Give him a most romantic reunion, si?"

/ Tada! As you can probably notice we are nearing the "climax" of the story. Even though I'm having a hard time writing, I am not dropping this; it's much too fun to write. To all of those who followed, favorited, and goodness, reviewed, thank you so much. I wouldn't have made it without you guys. :) /