Title: Falling Slowly

Genre: Romance

Pairing: America x Belarus (AmeBel)

Rating: R-13 for profanities


"Arthur, Francis! You both look great!" Their son piped with a big grin spread across his cheeky face.

"It's nice to see you two again," Arthur offered a hand to Natalya. Little bits of wrinkles appeared on the outer corners of his eyes when he smiled that depicted his age, but it almost went unnoticed under the dim lights if not for her keen sight. If her memory serves right, based from what Alfred have told her, he's probably now entering his early fifties, though he bore no sign of his age. Well, in exception of the subtle eye wrinkles.

"Likewise," She shook his hand stiffly, in all formality. Natalya attempted to return his smile: but finding it uncomfortable to force one as if leaving a bad taste in her mouth. What's worse than forcing a smile is for the other person to actually notice how fake and strained it is. With this in mind, the girl decided to refrain from it at all cost throughout the night. Surely, Alfred would understand.

"Bonjour, mademoiselle," Francis gracefully waved his hand once and bowed. A playful smirk tugged his lips, as usual. Little streaks of grey peaked from his fair hair tied back with a red ribbon, which strangely added appeal to his age instead of being frowned upon. And, like Arthur, the only other age-relevant sign that he bore were the bits of creases on the corners of his bright blue eyes.

All the same, the two looked very much refined and regal, not only by their looks but also by the atmosphere they carry themselves. Arthur wore a black Armani coat with a red plaid scarf over his white vest and black slacks while Francis kept it classy with his sharp light brown suit and a blue button down with the top three unfastened. The old couple simply had the presence of sophistication at every angle wherever they went (excluded of course when they fight, that only their close friends and family knew of), which sends an intimidating message often to strangers without any of their intentions. Plus, their obvious foreign accents did not at all help in any way to subdue their importance. Natalya did not long wonder as to why Alfred mockingly calls them "pretentious".

"Ah, mon-cher! I've missed you," His face brightened as he shared a quick hug with his son. "How are you?"

All the formality that Arthur is so well composed of opposed Francis' warmth and friendliness. Natalya noticed him roll his emerald eyes when the other two exchanged a friendly chat before returning to the group. The tiniest crease formed her forehead, now deep in thought as to what could possibly run in his mind right now. Even if Arthur tried hard to conceal it, she found it difficult not to notice even the smallest movement he does unconsciously that could possibly indicate his forming discomfort – or so she assumed. But why?

"And Natalya—" The Frenchman called out of her daze, making the belle jump a bit. "You're growing more and more beautiful since I last saw you. Like a flower in full bloom! Alfred must have been taking good care of you! How have you been, cheri?"

In contrast to the mood she has felt from the Brit, Francis seems to be as passionate and poetic as ever. Truly, it confused Natalya and at the same time irked her in silence; Francis' powerful energy is growing more irritating by plainly standing so close to him (and here she thought she's developed a tolerance for Alfred's), while Arthur's low-key grouchiness also affected her temper. There's simply no winning.

"I've been good, Francis. And you?" There was a crack in her voice by the end of her sentence that made her grit her teeth. Obviously, lashing out is nowhere near a good idea in any way, so pressing it all down her throat would probably the best course of action—as much as she hated it.
"Come inside, please," She followed quickly in a monotonous voice to bury the almost obscure slip up.

"I'm fantastique, thank you!" The two soon strolled within the flat, observing the place with their keen eyes. "I love how the place looks now! It's so much more organized and subtle with Alfred's distasteful housekeeping!"

"'Distasteful'?" Alfred scoffed, puffing his cheeks. "Just because I don't buy overly expensive drapes doesn't mean they're bad. For your information, they're—"

"Sweetie, no." Natalya mouthed with a straight face which effectively cut short what he was standing up for. "Don't fight. They really were."

When she frequently spent the night in his apartment before moving in, Natalya had always found it messy and without coordination. Given that he began keeping it clean when they officially dated, some of the built furniture are still quite inconvenient even to the smallest details of his carpet not matching the mantels. It was so obvious that he shopped regularly in Ikea, Natalya felt as if she's strolling through a smaller portion of the large warehouse.

For a split second, there was a quick stroke of pain that reflected his eyes, but was eventually masked by a childish pout at Natalya who simply raised an eyebrow and a cold shrug in return.

"Oh, how delightful you both are." They heard Francis coo in the background after a moment of silence.

This only made Natalya flush uncomfortably, making her avert her glance from Alfred and Francis. While she thought this would offer escape from the embarrassment, it only lead her once again to a mix of curiosity, irritation, and a hint of wary to see Arthur settle so quietly in his own misery from the group.

"Ah! I forgot," her boyfriend soon quipped—diverting the topic much to her relief. "There have been… uh… accidents earlier, which resulted to the chicken kinda being eaten whole by Peter Barker here…" He rubbed the back of his neck, carefully fishing for their reaction by releasing his words slower. "So basically, uh… our main course is inside Peter Barker now…"

"I'm sorry, it was my fault for accidentally dropping it." Natalya muttered – feeling as if it was necessary to apologize.

"That's alright, don't mind it." Arthur took off his coat and scarf, leaving them on the hanger. "We could just easily go out for dinner,"

And there was it again; that hint of aggravation in his gruff, monotonous voice over such a non-aggressive statement. Though this time, it wasn't only Natalya left alone to notice it; through the way Francis flinched and how Alfred unconsciously winced for a moment before flashing a bigger smile, she knew well that something is definitely bothering him.

Was it her? Certainly, she hasn't done anything to provoke the old man… yet. All the will she had to restrain her rude feedbacks slowly deteriorated the more Arthur acted out of place. Hopefully, it wouldn't completely run out by the end of the night.

"Or we could just order food and stay at home! Where it's much more comfortable, by the way. It would be fun. We still have the salad and the dessert unspoiled. I wouldn't want to waste what my sugarplum worked so hard to make the whole day," Alfred latched his hand around hers, proudly wearing a wide grin but she only frowned grimly at him as if to signal that he needed not to say the latter. It was embarrassing. And yet this message was gone over his head.
"Oui! What a good idea. That would do… Mon cher, you don't mind, do you?" Francis looked at his husband hopefully, to whom Arthur shook his head at.
"Oh, not at all," he croaked in agreement despite the deadpanned face he wore.
"Awesome!" Alfred beamed, jumping to get his phone out. "We have this great thai food place that I'm sure you'll love. Bet they don't have one in London."

The group all sat around the dining table during dinner. To the younger couple, it felt absolutely weird to eat their usual food so formally in the kitchen and share it with a bottle of red wine, when usually they would just curl up the couch and watch Netflix while eating. Still, they were glad that the food all worked out well with Francis and Arthur.

"So, how are things going on with you two? Enjoying the whole place, eh?" Francis winked at Natalya, who in return scowled at his innuendo despite the blushing on her face that even reached the tip of her ears. Next to her, Alfred laughed – both at Francis and even more at Natalya's reaction.
"Definitely!" He chuckled. "Thank you for asking. It's been rather… uh… interesting."
"Ah, the glory of young love. So sweet and so fervent," He clutched his heart dramatically, which made the belle cringe.
"Stop putting her on an uncomfortable situation, you two." Arthur grumbled without looking up from his food—much to her surprise on standing up for her when the two recklessly had fun.
Passive aggressive was never on Natalya's temperament; but she was sure of it when she sees one. It was as if he was trying not to be completely absorbed by the vague irritation he was feeling, and yet he cared enough not to actually rain on his family's day. And once again, Natalya's lost. Whether she should respect the man or not was left more and more unclear. Still, she mentally approved of the remark he made last which evidently meant that she was clear of the suspicion of his possibility of having an issue on her.

Francis and Alfred glanced at him first with a look of confusion on their faces, before turning to check Natalya's position as if to see if he was right. Her eyes widened and blinked at the sudden spotlight she was suddenly put on, not wanting any ray of it.
"Oh, dear. I'm sorry for not noticing," Francis smiled apologetically while cutting her short when she opened her mouth and was about to say something against minding her.

From underneath the table, Alfred took liberty to grasp her small hand in his. A bright, warm smile crossed his face when she looked up in wonder to see him.

Natalya took a deep breath and shook her head. "Don't mind me," she choked out. Despite wanting to really scold the two of them for acting as if she wasn't in the room, much more that she's in the table with them, she decided to refrain from doing so: knowing that her impulses must be curbed for the sake of being polite not only towards old people, but these old people incidentally being her boyfriend's parents. Though half of her heart scolded her for not acting like herself, she justified it by simply being polite over people she should, if not, respect.

"Oh, yes – we should," Alfred disagreed, chuckling to his own. "I'll definitely get not only one word of it when you two are gone, but rather with scratches and punches e— OW!"

From under the table, a cracking of bones can be heard. Both of their hands are still latched, but Natalya pulled and twisted his fingers hard enough to release the air bubbles between joints and press legitimate pressure to send pain down his hand without applying enough force to break them.

"Stop being so rude!" Natalya barked, grilling him with her death glare.

She heard a laugh before turning to see Francis cover his mouth with the back of his hand in an attempt to stifle his laughter while Arthur rolled his eyes at Alfred yet remained to flash a ghost of a smile on his face. Getting all startled after remembering that they weren't alone, she got easily flustered with rosy cheeks. Alfred's apologies and cries rang in the room when she spitefully cast his hand away – only for it to hit the wooden frame of his chair which gave off a resounding thud which startled Peter Barker from his sleep in a corner, look up inquisitively at his owners, and eventually return to his sleep.

"That hurts," He pouts, misty eyes looking up at her while cradling his almost broken fingers.

She heaved an infuriated sigh, rubbing the bridge of her nose and the crease of her eyebrows to relieve stress and garner composure.

"W-well, if it counts, that was your fault," Francis told his son with a hesitant smile.

"I agree," Arthur echoed apathetically. "Better put some ice on that."

"Both of you aren't helping!" He wept, leaving the table to prepare some ice with his good hand. "Baby, aren't you going to… give me a hand? This really hurts, y'know!"

Over his intended pun, he heard Natalya and Arthur groan followed by a string of curse words directed at him as if they were the ones in pain while Francis roared with laughter—more over their reaction than with the actual joke itself.

"Oh, stop it, cher. You'll get more hurt than you already are."

"But won't any one of you at least help me here?! Like, literally—give me a hand!"

"No fucking way we're cutting a hand for you." Arthur spat sourly, always disapproving of the misuses of the figures of speech.

"Oh my god. Fine! Never mind!" Alfred responded, putting his foot down before stumbling to place cubes of ice to the pouch. "None of y'all love me," he whined dramatically while facing the sink and sulking in his own room. "Not even Peter Barker. He doesn't care. Look how sweet his sleep is."

The dog's nose twitched in response to his name being called. But it still wasn't enough to make him move and break the deep sleep.

"Get over yourself, for Christ's sake. Grow a pair unless you want me to shatter that dick of yours into pieces as well!"

Maybe her sudden threats would send normal old people off their seats faster than a rocket flown into space, especially when those words are being directed to their son. But not on this case when Francis simply followed it with another fit of laugher and Arthur looked at her with a face of approval as if she took the words out of his mouth. This only made Natalya secretly admire them more—which formulates her question of where he adapted this kind of melodramatic exaggeration and overly irritating and obnoxious behavior.

The dinner went about well—not counting Alfred's constant weeping about his injured hand and struggle to finish his food. But after wiping his mouth clean with a napkin, Arthur stood up wearing a very serious expression just as everyone else in the room craned their necks to look at his towering figure.

"Alfred," He tilts his head with his scrutinized emerald eyes as if motioning something to the other room.

The American clenched his jaw and diminished any signs of childish act on his façade before shaking his head after a moment of reasoning with himself. "No. Whatever it is, we're all staying here to listen."

Natalya looked at him with a chiefly masked cautious face. She knew this look too well. It was when at the times they would fight, and he'd soon reach his end point of the case with his final word. It was the knowing look that in all of his frustration, he disguised it with this serious one. The calm before the storm. The ticking bomb that would eventually burst causing all of the hell buried in his mind to break loose.

Knowing the dangers of it isn't just mere guessing, for she had to struggle through the whole dreadful experience to know it first-hand. As stubborn as she already is, it only took her one lesson to know that the best course of action now is to no longer raise voices but rather to step out and let things cool a bit to avoid entering a war zone.

Only, if she could've told Arthur.

"This is between you and me, there's no need for—" The elder began. Only to be cut short by Francis grabbing his hand and squeezing it.

"Mon Amour," The other cooed with gentle persuasion. "I'm sure you know how he feels. I have the right to say with this one, just as Natalya now does."

She watched the whole scene between the family unfold with her lips agape. It took a moment to finally scramble her mind into a whole piece to know that she's subtly being involved in some private matters that Arthur didn't want to reveal which caused the whole commotion. This must have been the entire source of all the subsurface tension the whole night.

Quickly, she jumped from her seat and waved her hands in front of her. "No, no. Francis—nyet. I don't… I-I'm not—" She stumbled, shaking her head and stepping out of the table. Worried lilac eyes glanced from Francis to Arthur – noticing that the latter had locked his with Alfred as if trying to persuade his son without the use of words.

"Natalya, ma cherie. Non," Francis called out in a calm and kind voice of a doting father that he is that somehow oddly made her think of her own, only to leave her with a bitter after taste in her mouth. "Stay, please. You're family now. I'm so sorry, but please."

Arthur's stern façade shifted into a more pleading one before breaking his gaze from Alfred to Natalya. "By all means," he began with a gentler voice which made her the more uncomfortable being in the same room as if intruding a household.
"—do stay. I'm sure your opinion on this matter would bear much importance into changing our son's decisions."

As hard as one could try to find a hint of sarcasm on his mollified voice, it was impossible. The Englishman sounded so sincere yet at the same time so filled with ominousness that she thought he could never possibly possess. The most that Natalya could reach into a conclusion was that he was suddenly enlightened to find some advantage on her presence that he could possibly charge the weight of her opinion on the matter against Alfred.

And as if on cue, their son flinched on his chair upon absorbing his father's words. It made him look like a delinquent. As if he was the one at fault – and that he couldn't merely accept.

"Well, fine!" He burst out, getting on his feet. "Let's all talk about this right now, shall we? I'm sure you would love to turn everything against me so that you would get what you want by the end of the day," Alfred growled angrily at Arthur before turning to pace from the dining area to the set of sofa and throwing himself on the couch. "How about that? Let's start with that!"

He was quick to lose all reason, and that she knew. It tortured her so not to be able to soothe the stress the room is being under, but what else could she do? She barely had an idea what was going on. Part of her wanted to be angry at Alfred for not keeping everything transparent like a healthy couple shout, but seeing everything unfold rather made her pity the case this family is being strained unto.

Natalya saw nothing else in the room but Alfred's hostile features on the other side of the room from where she stood frozen. There were low rumbles, which she assumed Francis speaking some empathy into Arthur before doing any more drastic actions. But they were nothing but background noise, for she shared the same world as Alfred—an isolated and silent world with nothing but anger and pity.

As if sensing the cut of her rueful gaze, blue eyes looked up meet them. It scared her to see the pair of bright, warm eyes that she loved best to be so dark and ominous as if it was a completely different person. How can something she has known to be so tender and chirpy like the summer sky turn so lifeless and vile?

It frightened her—because she's never seen these pair and most importantly, because she's a stranger to this man. They have fought countless of times, yes- over meaningless things and important, profounder ones. And even though she already tipped his fury once, this is way beyond her recognition.

Their souls communicated themselves without the need for words nor actions as if breaching the waters that separated the two of them. She reached for his chaotic soul, and he spread his arms to welcome her. 'Come back to me,' he heard her voice echo in his head.
As if this was a vision shared by the two of them telepathically, their hearts were clenched by a feeling of longing to cross the space that divided them physically and at the same time, they fluttered at how they could finally see the bright sun after the drastic clouds that shrouded it now that they've found each other.

Alfred's old soul resurfaced, the stars in his eyes soon regained their shine as Natalya could sense despite the still wary look painted across his face. He flashed her a pensive smile to thank her for being his anchor, and at the same time apologizing for drifting so far apart.

"I'm sorry," Arthur sighed, walking across the room and stopping a few meters from Alfred. "Alright, let's talk this over calmly, shall we?"

"There's nothing to talk about."

"Can't you at least cooperate? Don't make this harder than it is!"

"I made a choice! There's no more to that, it's final! Nothing you will say can change my mind."

"I'm trying really hard here! And can't you even realize that you're not being fair?! That you deprived Natalya of the knowledge of everything that's happening? You haven't even told her anything, have you?"

The lack of response has given Arthur an answer. He stole a glance at Natalya to make sure that she's handling everything thrown at her fine. It was irksome to not be able to finally grasp the topic or have someone just tell her what's going on, but she decided to refrain from asking and drag her short patience a few minutes longer to avoid any more conflict involving her.

"You know she deserves to know what was decided a year ago… How am I the one being unfair?"

The stillness of the room when Arthur stops talking is deafening. Neither Francis nor Natalya had the will to join the two have a heated discussion over the issue. For Natalya, it was because she found no reason for her to join them. All she could do was listen and respond when needed. While for Francis, he knew best not to stand sides. So rather being a person watching from the bleachers, he became the referee to confidently blow the whistle if things would get too far. And besides, he had no objections on Alfred's sudden decision as of late. He's happy if his family is, and that's all that matters. Arthur was really the one making a fuss about for a long time.

Alfred anxiously sought for Natalya's eyes, only to see them baffled and searching for an answer. He took a deep sigh and ran his fingers through his hair—not knowing where to even start. Instead, he asked for their privacy to discuss the affairs concerning their relationship. Without a single word of approval nor disapproval, she followed him tread from the living room to their bedroom, carrying the heavy atmosphere of the room along with them into the other side of the door.

She didn't press any questions or reactions once separated from his parents. It worried Alfred greatly of the inability to find her thoughts from the blank yet confused face she was wearing. But shaking himself of the fear, he mustered his courage to welcome her to the problem that had caused all this – ready to risk everything to prevent her from siding with Arthur. Or even the constant worst case scenario in his mind, which is leaving him for good.

"I… I don't know where to start," Alfred didn't dare to let go of her hand as they both sat on the foot of the bed.
"You can start by telling me what happened," Her voice is well composed with its usual coldness that cut him deep with guilt and shame. The paranoia of his negative mind easily consumed him. But for the sake of respecting her need to know, he continued to strive.
"Francis and Arthur… had always made fortune." Alfred began awkwardly, unable to meet her gaze. "I mean, like tons. I never told you, but the reason on how they managed to get married in Netherlands thousands of years ago when it was so expensive, to adopt us – at first to only have Arthur as our father… well—legally, at least, because their marriage isn't exactly valid on all countries in Europe. And then to eventually spend so much money on so many legal cases to have Francis as our guardian too and giving us the liberty to choose our surnames in all fairness to legal rights… Bottom line is, they both are already successful businessmen before they even got married and so they've managed to combine their powers now." Hesitantly, he dared to peak at her in order to free his mind from all the toxic it's setting its own self on.

"And…?" Natalya raised an eyebrow at him, waiting for the rest of the story in wonder as to how it should affect their relationship.

"They own a real estate corporation. Like, not just some agencies. A corporation," He stressed carefully, keeping a close eye on her reaction. It was both a satisfaction and a torture to find no hint of her thoughts. The grip of his hand tightened and much to his comfort, she squeezed it back – acknowledging the frustration he's being strained under.
"… It was then decided that Matthew and I would take up a position on the company before Arthur and Francis retires. As if sort of an internship before one of us would take over the corporation itself." Bitterness filled his voice upon the latter, freely expressing his distaste on the idea of working on a field without his passion no matter how significant it should be.

"They're taking you to work at the company…?" Natalya's soft voice resounded—a rhetorical question directed more to herself than the person besides her. "Wait—so that's what you should've gone to a year ago?" A small shot of panic was evident in her voice now, lilac eyes screwed in the dim light coming from the city beyond their window.

"I refused to leave, so I moved from Boston. Only Matthew knew my location, and he kept a promise to keep it a secret… Roughly about three months later, I met you at the library. It's almost been a year since I've seen them until they visited the hospital last spring. I suppose they kept a low key all about it back then. But Arthur had called me last week- pressing the position once again."

"Why are you just telling me this now?" There was a slight hint of accusation in her voice that she struggled to hide, but he noticed it and took it well to heart.

"I can't—" He released an exasperated sigh, rubbing his eyes under his glasses and adjusting them after. "It didn't really matter. I mean, it's not a big part of me—I can manage without them and I don't see the sense as to why I should even relate it to my everyday life." After realizing the bitterness in his words, Alfred quickly continued in defense to clear the misconception of pushing them out of reach. "No, don't get me wrong. I do respect them and recognize them as my parents, still. That thing would never change. But what has been happening since the recent year is something that I wouldn't want to deal with and I wouldn't want to take account on what we're going through. It's not that much of a big deal to take so much effect on our lives."

"Yes, it is!" Natalya raised her voice for once, breaking the stillness of the dimly lit room. He saw a face of disapproval. Lilac eyes clouded with conviction that cut him deep. Alfred reflected her dissatisfaction with a frown, afraid of having this issue crumple their relationship in ways possible—his worst fear.

"If it's not important to me, then how can it be to us?" As much as half of him wanted to celebrate for even daring to identify the both of them as a single unit in solving problems as if they're practicing their marriage, he simply couldn't with this topic. Not yet, at least.

He let go of her hand and pressed his elbows on his lap with his head between both hands. All the emotions are on turmoil, whirling and stirring in strings of hurricane that danced unevenly in his chest. Hurt and shame and guilt and anger that was impossible to pin in a single word. As to why half of him trusted and expected her to understand, he didn't know. But maybe it was really something that he had all the right to be embarrassed about. That it was his fault. And yet he couldn't help but feel somehow betrayed and offended.

"It is important, Alfred." Her calm voice resounded to gather his attention but he didn't budge. "No, no. Listen to me. Look at me." Natalya snapped impatiently in command, taking his face with her smaller hands to search for his very soul. "It is important- you should know… But, I don't care if it you're a runaway kid or a son of a CEO. I don't fucking care if you want us to fly out of this city to hide once again like you did right here and right now. I would join you, if that's what you're worried about."
She took a deep breath, carefully putting her truest feelings into the right words that would enlighten him. "My brother and sister aren't here… I don't have a home here. Well, not… n-not without you. But it's important to me that you'd tell. Because I trust you and you should trust me, too." Natalya choked down the ball of lump clogging her throat and before she even knew it, thin streams of hot tears flowed down her cheeks. The sudden storm of emotions left her unprepared: this secret, his surprising side of the runaway child she never knew, Alfred lack of courage nor the trust to tell her (if only she could tell which is which), the unexpected haunting of her brother only for her to realize how alone and vulnerable she had been in this cold and empty world, only to eventually find and build a home in Alfred after years of solitude.
"I… I am not as fragile as you think I am, Alfred."

"I know that! I know that, baby. I'm so sorry."

Silence followed everything else. Just two souls in the dark, holding each other and realizing how much of a home they have been to one another. They are their own refuge, their safety, their haven from this cold and busy world that wouldn't stop its time for lost and broken people to catch up. He was her rock, and she was his sunshine. From whom they couldn't be torn apart.

But in the darkness, a toxic feeling consumed him without permission—he needed to see her secrets, as well. How could she possibly be so selfish as to want to know the truth from him when her breakdown a few hours ago before the arrival of his parents went by without a question? Alfred grit his teeth, trying to shake it off and focus on the warmth her body was emanating. He felt a pool of anger rising to his stomach – at her, at himself. For not telling, and for not being worthy enough to be told secrets to.

"You should take it," her gentle voice whispered on his chest. "Or at least, try working with them."

Before Alfred could repel to this repugnant idea, she pushed herself to sit straight and continued.

"I'm not saying this for us- You'll be in London, and we'll be miles apart. If anything, the distance would only be a hurdle for us. But you should do it. Not for me or for us, but for you. Try it, for your own self. I don't want to be the reason to keep you from doing anything. I don't want you to keep running away, because I know you're not that type of person." Her small hand caressed his face. Thumb, grazing over his lips and skin.

"My family is gone, Alfred, while you distanced yourself from yours. They care so much for you, don't you see? They only want their son back… I'm not going anywhere else, I promise. Just try to accept your family for once, please?"


Author's note: HAPPY NEW YEAR!

I'm still awfully surprised at how this story regularly gets subscribers and favorites even if I don't update it often. I actually sort of screwed up, because there should've been a Christmas special but I failed to write it. This one has been stuck in my laptop for almost two months. Also, I actually failed to properly edit this so there must've been a few failed grammar or errors here and there. I just hope they didn't bother to affect your reading! Thank you for keeping up with my nonsense! Please do write a review, it would most likely be helpful for the development of the story and beneficial to the readers!