Title: Falling Slowly (Ch.10)

Genre: Romance

Pairing: America x Belarus

Rating: PG

Date Published: October 31, 2015. Happy Halloween!

"No, you can't make burgers."

"Mac & Cheese?"

"No!"

The two bickered from the kitchen.

It was autumn. Natalya has been a permanent resident of Alfred's flat for almost half a year now since she moved in after his accident. At first, it was just to assist him until his recovery for a couple of weeks; but after figuring out that having a roommate would be both beneficial on both parties in terms of rent and expenditures, not to mention it would be diverting and pleasurable for their relationship, Alfred pressed on his idea until she considered it.

And for some reason unknown, his parents decided to come over for dinner tonight and get to know more of her.

For the record, Natalya has met Arthur and Francis twice before when they visited Alfred in the hospital six months ago. There wasn't exactly enough time to get to know more of each other. But she did know that his parents are around their early fifties (despite looking about a decade younger, on her first hand observation), adopted the five-year old twins: Alfred and Matthew when they were on their late twenties, and they bicker a lot.

It was a lazy Sunday and the couple ate their way to breakfast while discussing for the meal preparation tonight.

"But why didn't you tell me about this sooner?" She frowned at his late notification just this early morning.
"I did! Last Monday, that was when I got Francis' text. Right before we ordered pizza."
"Monday? You were screaming like a little girl that night because HBO is showing Unbreakables! You made me sit through the whole film!"
"—Yes, but I told you before the movie."
"You didn't, Alfred. I would've never forgotten if you did!" She cried in exasperation, running her fingers through her fair, long hair. "—and stop feeding Peter Barker milk under the table again! You know he's lactose intolerant!"
"But he wouldn't stop scratching my shin and looking at me with those big eyes." Alfred whined, pouting at his girlfriend.

Peter Barker is a golden retriever mix they found in the park last spring. Alfred fed him his burger once, and he never stopped following them the whole day until they had to take in the poor thing. Surprisingly, Natalya made no objections. Maybe it's because Peter Barker is so much alike Alfred. Or probably due to the fact that he promised to take care of him 24/7. Either way, his apartment received another occupant a month after Natalya's stay and now, the dog is a legitimate family member of their little household.

P.B. weighs around 40 pounds – making him a little overweight for a thirteen month old pup. His fur is a medium length matte in the shade of sandy dune and his big ears flopped just above his jaws. Despite looking a bit chubby, his bones are thick and the muscles of his hind legs are powerful enough to prop his leap five feet high above the ground – which he does often times when his parents return from work. But the most prominent angle of the dog is his case of heterochromia – having his irises of a different color. On Peter Barker's condition, the right one is of chocolate brown while the other is of a striking blue color. Natalya kept making Alfred set him on a diet, but the dog wouldn't have any of it unless Alfred would do it alongside him… which is downright impossible.

The couple decided to look up on the internet decent high-class recipes instead, for the sake of a formal evening.
Since Alfred rely his entire food fueled mainly by burgers, fast food, and instant packaged foods while Natalya on the other hand isn't exactly the type of woman who would actually make a sandwich, the kitchen was left unmanned.

This didn't really make any much difference for the two when they moved in together – Monday night is Pizza night, Tuesday is Thai food, Wednesday is Mexican, Thursday is pasta, Friday is Indian. On Saturdays, they would go out on a date. While on Sundays, Natalya would sometimes make the only dish she has gained expertise over from childhood memory, which is a native Russian dish of potato pancakes. To which Alfred notes as, according to his own words, the 'less hot younger sister of hash browns', but 'would still do her'.
It was roughly the same food routine as they did when they lived separately. Not much home cooked meals but less instant food for Alfred.

After deciding on a three coursed meal, they left for the supermarket around one-thirty to buy all of the ingredients to come home after two hours to begin their preparations for the fancy dinner.

Natalya handled meals consisting of baked potatoes, roast chicken, and leafy salad – much to Alfred's fear of the latter, while he was in charge of house cleaning and preparing the dinner table. This is with Natalya's guidance, of course.

Their utensils weren't even decent enough in the first place, which lead them to purchasing sets of matching plates, fancy forks and knives, wine glasses, and tea cups (even stocking their house bags of Earl Grey for Arthur's after-meal tea). The entire table costs them about half of their monthly budget, much to their dismay. Alfred told her not to worry. But as if it was that easy for Natalya not to. Still, there was an exhilarating feeling as they purchased their first table utensil sets. They felt a sense of responsibility and adulthood (even though they will probably never use them unless they have guests). Not to forget that it was better that they were doing it together.

"… but what we really need to worry about is Francis' taste preference." Alfred echoed from the dining table, just a few meters from the kitchen counter where Natalya worked. "Arthur's tongue haven't improved one bit, being with Francis. He would try to get rid of his disgusting scones from the family table for years but Arthur wouldn't bend one bit. Although, Arthur's very specific with his tea – he knows a cheap tea only with his sense of smell. Bottom line is, they're both really pretentious."

She only answered with a reminder that it isn't exactly a good thing to talk ill behind one's parents. Even if she's probably the most cold-hearted woman that he's ever met (though she eventually warmed down to him after so long), Natalya wouldn't stoop so low as to spit on her own roots. Family is one of the things that she valued so much herself, after all.

Alfred merely laughed at this notion, much to her irk. "I'm not," he said, "this is pretty normal for us. I still respect them an awful lot—" quickly followed by "but don't tell them I said that!"

Whatever was bound to happen on that table, Natalya hoped that it wouldn't get herself too involved.

By 7 pm, they both left the kitchen to get prepared. Alfred gave Peter Barker a shower first before Natalya did, drying the dog with her hair dryer as she was in the shower. When she stepped out, P.B. greeted her with his special occasion collar complete with a black tuxedo bow.

"I never thought I'd be nervous," she whispered while he changed. Alfred stopped to look at her, raising to raise an eyebrow in confusion and waiting if this was another one of her reckless, and often harmful, jokes.

"Are you okay?" His voice echoed concern after studying her for a while. The belle sat on the edge of the bed, hands neatly folded on her lap. She wore a simple light blue sundress, hair pulled up in a bun. Her skin was fair, he knew – but despite the good light, she looked more pale than usual.

"You don't look fine." Alfred went out of his way to sit next to her, grabbing her hand. "Ah- your hand is weird!" He blurted out in wary. It was unusually cold.

It seemed to snap the consciousness back to Natalya which made her snatch her hand from his hold, rather harshly.

"I'm alright." She growled, holding it close to her chest protectively.

Well, that was… odd. Eccentric enough that it was worthy of Alfred's curiosity, in spite his usually careless attitude. He knows she's met them before, and it has been nothing but pleasant. His parents are civilized enough for the high society that they both knew how to respect a lady – especially if it was an important person in Alfred's life. She's never been hostile around them, despite being rather stale and timid, being smart enough not to unleash hell with her boyfriend's parents. It was clearly impossible to visualize what could cause such to rattle the usually cold and stoic lady.

"Nat, I told you they like you." He reminded her. She gave no answer, which urged him to continue. "Hey, Arthur even thinks you're too good for me! And as much as I hate to repeat his words, he said that you're good enough to keep me in line or somethin'. Francis also agreed wholeheartedly. He's some sort of a love guru, he even said that Cancer and Virgo's a match. I said I don't believe in horoscope, but he supported it with a claim that people in polar opposites usually make a good match because they balance each other…" Alfred prattled on and on. His bright blue eyes glued intently in search for hers.

"Come on, now." He cooed, raising her head by tilting her chin. "It's okay." A pair of warm lips pressed on her forehead, and it was enough to feel her tension release under his hold.

"I'm fine," she breathed out, staring back at his electric blue eyes. With a timid smile, she pressed her lips on his for a tender kiss before assuring him once again with more conviction.

After pinning a loose strand of her hair behind her ear and taking a deep breath, she stood up albeit gawkily. He focused on her alone, silently judging every movement of her muscles. The grip on her hand slowly unclasped and what appears to be testing her fingers by slow open and close movements.

"Sorry. I'll go… prepare the table."

'What the hell was that?'

The Belarussian left him staring at her back as she slipped out of the room, occupied in deep thought of what was wrong. One of the factors that he loved the most about being with her is when he could never figure out how her mind was set up. She would curse, but then she would hide her smile while chasing him with a knife: figuratively and literally, it has happened before. It was fun, in his opinion. Like she's a maze full of surprises, ever so spontaneous.

But at some point, it has its downturn. This may be one of those examples.

Why was she so nervous? She's met them before, right? She's spoken to them before back in the hospital. He should know—he was there! He's seen it all unfold and note that he was even the one who introduced her to them. Was she afraid of this formal meeting? What's the difference, it's all the same – only they were having it on the dinner table. Is it because they might ask her personal questions like about her family and her past? … that ought to make sense… right?

A thundering clank snapped Alfred from his thoughts, just when he was about to surmise the problem. It sent him jumping from the bed and rushing to where the sound came from.

"Nat!" The American instinctively bursts out the door, eyes searching his girlfriend from room to room. Before finally arriving at the kitchen, he paced his jog to a walk upon seeing the cause of the disruption.

A pool of mess is on the kitchen floor – carrots, sweet potatoes, celery stalks, and even the chicken itself over sauce that was supposed to be their main course. The smell wafted throughout the room. And without his own will, Alfred found this appetizing – even letting his shameless stomach call forth needlessly.

Getting closer, he finally saw the suspended Natalya staring at the mess. But what struck him the most was the frozen—yet the shaky hand of hers that was half-way into reaching out for the stainless tray.

"Babe—" he ran to her side, caging her with his large arms. "Are you sure you're okay?"

Finally, the girl snapped back to reality.

Horror stricken eyes met Alfred. The darkness clouding them soon disappeared but the haunted light that they now contained isn't welcoming at all. The kind that could send chills down anyone's spine; as if she has seen a ghost. Pale, as she already is with cold sweat sprayed on her temples.

"Nat," Being released from the hug, two hands were carefully placed on her shoulders.

It pained him to see her being so worked up and vulnerable for some invisible shadows that followed her around. But what was worse is that the idea that he was sent searching in the dark.

"What is it, love?" Alfred looked once more for an answer. Or rather any hint that would let him know what's running in her mind. He waited with breath on hold and eyes hopeful for answer. But once again, he felt the doors of her soul slam close on his face. Further making her slip from his grasp.

In his mind replayed everything that the two of them have done for the past 24 hours. Instinctively, he searched for a reason to blame himself. Was it something he did? Did he offend her in some way? Was he being stupid and insensitive again?

Just before they dressed for his their visitors, everything has been going along smoothly. As hard as he may try, the American could not struggle to find the needle of the haystack.

Not wanting to strain her from any more stress, he quietly lead her to the living room and directed her to sit on the sofa, in which she did without any positive or negative response like supporting a walking zombie.

Never was he a person of patience, and that was a matter of fact. But on extreme cases as such, Alfred decided to be calm and collected and simply wait for her to come down into his arms as if a feral cat wishing to be saved, but horrified to trust. Not that this was all unusual to the lad. If he had made an issue of all the times that Natalya would doubt his faith, then he may even possibly lose his mind... Or worse – his own faith towards her.

'How difficult it is to love this woman,' was the only solid thought that could summarize his collective feeling at the end of the day. And yet, he was not the one to complain. 'You can never choose who you love,' and that was probably so.

"Babe, I'm not a mind reader," He sighed in exhaustion after holding her for what seems like forever, surrendering his hunt. "Please, tell me what's wrong. I know something is wrong, but could you please tell me what? Did I upset you? I'm sorry…"

She only buried her face in his chest in response. A hand clinging onto the once pressed and smooth shirt he wore – now wrinkled by her grip. But that was the least of his concern – what caught his attention the most was the grip itself. All the while, it wouldn't stop shaking and even as of now with her fingers clasped tightly and resting against his chest.

Frowning, he reached up to unclasp her locked fist without much expected difficulties. It was cold. As if the heat of her body intently avoided that specific arm of hers, depriving it of the blood and oxygen it desperately needs down to the tip of her fingers. But still it involuntarily trembled despite being somewhat dead.

At first, Alfred thought it was just a nervous reflex from the stress she's been strained upon. But after studying her face when she calmed down a bit at some point, the shaking continued. He set aside this assumption and thought it was a muscle spasm.

They both sat there for about thirty minutes or so. Alfred cupped her constricting hand on his gently - careful not to massage it though he very much wanted to take it away. It might do her worse, he thought. Instead, he kissed her forehead in all protectiveness, and next her hand, like a mother would to a kid who got his skin bruised.

"Is this what scared you?" He began, voice calm and soothing that relaxed her almost immediately. "Have you never had muscle cramps before?" It was somehow ridiculous to get so worked out over a muscle cramp. But it felt as if he would never get an answer unless he guessed and guessed. And even then, he still wouldn't be sure if his guesses were correct. So the most he found that he could do is to throw them all on her for now, and hope for the best.

"Da," she murmured. Her head hanging in embarrassment, to which he assumed. "It's weird and it hurts." Natalya's pale, tiny hand began to stop its trembling and now rests idly over Alfred's tanned and larger one as the blood of her system slowly crept down the limb like it was supposed to.
"—I dropped the-" She snapped her head towards the kitchen in alarm but was quickly interrupted by her boyfriend.

"Forget about it." A free hand grazed her chin and forced her to break sight from the direction of the mess. "That's not important."

"But your parents! They're-"

Alfred shook his head. "We can just order Chinese food. They wouldn't mind. They should be the least thing you should be worried about."

Although seeing the genuine worry in her eyes, Alfred still couldn't help but doubt his reliance on the theory that this was all just a spasm. The emotional turmoil that boiled within her shouldn't be caused by something so plain and simple. And he's aware of how good Natalya is at controlling her emotions (at least in terms of fear, happiness, sadness etc. anyway. Anger and patience was never her forte) in the first place.

But knowing well that he wouldn't get any more plausible ideas over this from her now, he decided to push it aside and focus more on winning her over from fear instead. Still, this definitely wouldn't be the last of it. This would only mean the more reason for him to study on a closer look of her situation from then onwards.

"I'm so sorry," Natalya muttered. The corners of her lips tugged down in despair. "What a waste of good meal."

"Don't be so gloomy. You were the one who worked so hard on it all by yourself. I should be the one who is apologizing for what happened," a toothy grin appeared on his lips, showing off his white and perfectly aligned teeth. "… besides, Peter Barker seems to approve of it."

Natalya followed the direction he was nodding. And not much to her surprise, saw the chubby golden dog gnawing on the roasted chicken once it cooled down. She allowed herself to laugh timidly. Taking in the sunny disposition of Alfred and completely relaxing after watching her little family.

Alfred, letting himself forget his inquisition for now, felt a contented smile draw upon his face. The one that she loved so much, of what reminded her of home after a long day of work. His heart fluttered and thrummed against his chest, feeling like this was all surreal – the inexplicable happiness that he usually felt with her, but never seems to get used to it: what more than to find the proper words to describe it?

But unexpectedly, the smile was robbed easily from him once the idea of Natalya hiding something important from him was resurfaced. Alone with his thoughts, he couldn't help but sense like this was all his intuition and he should trust her, not saying that he doesn't, but at least learn to relax from this issue. Yet at the same time, the slow toxic stole his ignorance and completely peaceful state of mind.

"I love you," He blurted out of nowhere. More as if it was a reminder than simply telling her.

Without wavering or a hint of flinching, she let out a deep breath and faced him with a small, but kind, smile on her face.

"Me too," she breathed out, reaching to get a hold of his nape and pull him down for a deep and genuine kiss.

Author's Note: So, it's been... I don't know how long and I sincerely apologize for not updating the entire school semester that passed. But it has been a really busy semester for me, mainly because it's the second to my last one. I can't promise to update more regularly, but I can tell you I will try my hardest. And by next week, I will start my very last semester of college. I only have a handful of classes left, so that means more time in between me and my laptop.

Thank you so, so much for keeping in touch even after all these months! And to compensate, I have a gift!

Another reason why I've been so late all this time is because I've made two (yes. two as in 2) drafts before this. The other one is just utter bullshit, but I can upload the last one I've worked on. It's pretty decent, I guess(?). I will leave here the link to that draft if you want to read it. Note: ONLY if you want to read it. There's nothing important about it for the timeline of the story or whatever. Also note that this is just a draft, and there will be a lot of typos and such per se. It hasn't been read or edited since I last left it.

ANOTHER GIFT FOR YOU (this one I'm most excited about) IS THE PLAYLIST I MADE! You can listen to it if you're in the mood for love ;) But basically, this is simply the official playlist that I've published for the fanfic. Fundamentally composed of the songs I listen to when I write, and I find them very inspirational - I hope they can inspire you, too. Enjoy!

OFFICIAL SONG PLAYLIST/REMOVE SPACES: goo . gl / zZIOwM

CHAPTER 10 ALTERNATIVE DRAFT/REMOVE SPACES: goo . gl / g6rf0o (please don't hesitate to approach my tumblr account! I'd love to hear from you!)

Again, thank you so much for your subscription! I promise to see you again soon!