Wiktor: Alright, I am pleased to announce the return of this piece of fanfiction! I intend to finish it, even after an almost two year hiatus. I will also be writing others. I would like to thank my reader truefictionaddict for convincing me to come back, and I am so happy that they did! Thanks so much! So, without any further wait, let's jump into the next chapter!
Austria hunched over the sink. He glanced over to the side, noticing that he had neglected to close the door to the bathroom all the way, light pouring like water from the crack in the door and spilling into the shady hallway outside. He moved sluggishly and felt heavy, each profound step growing harder to take than the last as he made his way across the freezing tile. He reached out with shaky fingers and, as quietly as he could, pulled the door open a bit. He held his breath and turned off the light to the bathroom, not wanting to alert anyone in the house that he was awake at such an ungodly hour. Ever so slowly he peeked into the hallway, looking first to the left, then to the right. Austria jumped a bit, shocked when he locked eyes with himself in one of the hundreds of old paintings posted to the wall. He sighed and willed his heartbeat back down before looking over each one in reminisce of the old ways of his empire. Each one was beautiful. He was beautiful. Well, at least he used to be, he thought to himself in a vain attempt to remember what tender youth felt like. As long as he could remember, there was always political agony. Every invasion and futile military campaign took its toll on his body, as for everyone else, slamming down like an iron hammer to his bones every time he was left in defeat. Oddly enough, Austria found himself wishing for this intense pain to wash back over him. Though his youth had left him in a constant, silent torture, nothing could compare to the fire that he was now forced to walk through every day.
Austria blinked and took a few steps backwards, slinking back into the murky bathroom. He pulled the door shut with a minute click and flipped the light back on, stumbling to the mirror. This time, he actually locked eyes with himself, shaking his head at the mess that he saw gazing back at him. What had become of him? He looked excruciatingly ill and insipid, the hollows of his cheekbones casting sharp shadows across his once energetically painted face. Any color had drained away long ago, giving him a ghostly, lanky appearance of an almost elderly man. His disheveled hair was strewn about without care, a mess of fibers poking out at many rather unattractive angles. Austria moved his hand slowly to his bony cheek, but suddenly stopped. This couldn't be who he was now! He was supposed to be the picture of Austrian health; an attractive young man that put others in a fit of jealousy when he walked by in his awe inspiring air of regality. He swallowed and shook his head slowly, shocked by how he had let himself progress to such levels as this.
Austria quickly backed away from the mirror and slumped against the wall with a thud much louder than he had anticipated. His hands flew up to shield any imaginary watchers from the tears forming in his eyes. Angry with what he had done, he ripped off his glasses and threw them heatedly to the side, hearing them hit the porcelain of the bathtub, before letting himself slide to the floor. He felt a dizzy spinning in his head when sobs finally racked his body, forcing him to shiver involuntarily and choke back the audible cries forming in his throat. A tiny drop of blood fell from the tip of his nose and landed softly on his nightshirt, dancing red through the veins in the fabric. Austria stared at it, lonely and broken down, taking a deep breath to try and relieve the stress he felt eating him away from the inside out. He messily wiped his nose on the back of his hand. He felt absolutely repulsive and reached up to run his fingers through his hair. Almost immediately, he noticed that something wasn't right. For a long while, he refused to move, terrified that he knew what he was to see. Knowing it couldn't be hidden, Austria slowly moved his hand down to where he could properly see, his tears flowing once more as he choked on his own words.
"Bitte..." He begged faintly to no one.
Austria shakily stumbled up, hand still clutched and threw the handful of loose brown hair in the sink, washing it away. He rummaged through a few drawers underneath the cabinet, pulling a comb out from under a pile of junk. Tenderly with both hands, he combed through his hair, pulling noticeable clumps free and tossing them into the rushing torrent of hot water. Why was this happening again? Austria swallowed thickly and decided halfheartedly to comb his hair to the left, covering the noticeably bare patches and creating a new façade of thickness.
As if someone had stopped a dam, Austria felt a flood of numbness flow over his mind, fogging any trace of rational thought he had left for the night. He blinked slowly and let go of the comb, letting hit the rug. He didn't bother to pick it up, nor did he bother to retrieve his glasses or shut of the water before haphazardly throwing open the door to the bathroom. At this point, he must have alerted the whole house to his being up, but that was the last thing on his mind. In fact, there was nothing on his mind as he trudged, swaying lightly, down the hallway. It took a great effort for him to make it back around the corner to try and manage to his bed. The hallway was so dimly lit; he could hardly see where he was going.
All of a sudden, a single thought popped in Austria's mind, but he couldn't bring himself to find any energy to question his reasoning or the possible strange outcomes of what he was about to do. He had stopped at the door to America's bedroom, noticing that it wasn't completely closed. As if on an unspoken que, Austria pushed it open with a sweaty palm and made his way in. America had the window cracked to relieve the unbearable heat of the home, but was covered in a thick layer of several wool blankets strewn messily across his seemingly naked body. Austria slogged to the edge of the bed, small amounts of dried blood caked to his face, and sneered in hatred for what he saw. America was…beautiful. Austria felt his breathing become increasingly heavy as he finally lost the last bit of composure he had been desperately clutching to. His jaw tightened in jealousy at the rosy color of America's cheeks and his glossy, thick, blonde hair.
"How dare you come here like this. How dare you flaunt yourself." Austria hissed in English through the darkness.
Austria gritted his teeth, feeling a rotten boiling deep inside his chest. At once, he shivered, the frosty air snapping him back to reality. He blinked several times and held back a cough, staring at America's peaceful expression. Why would he say something like that? Austria quietly rushed to the door as fast as his unstable gait would carry him. He glanced back a final time to where America lay, before heading down the hallway to return to what he knew would be a long and difficult sleep.
America noticed that Austria had been acting strange all morning. There was the usual long wait for him to get out of the bathroom, the awkward coffee and small talk, but something was…different. Austria refused to meet America's gaze, no matter what he decided to say or try. Even now, as America had drug him out of the house to have fun picking a unique, sweet smelling, Christmas tree, Austria didn't seem to be having much of a good time.
Instead of taking their usual walk, the two had opted to take a taxi across town to avoid slipping on the surprisingly think ice of the morning. The ride had been mostly silent on Austria's part, with America doing most of the talking in his usual cheery fashion. He pointed out all of the same landmarks as he always did, and had great time laughing at the many tourists slipping and sliding around on the frozen ground outside. Finally, when the two had reached their destination, America hopped out of the cab and jumped in excitement.
"Dude, look at all of these Christmas trees!" He squealed, throwing his arms up to gesture to the massive lot of hundreds of dark green pine trees.
Austria paid the fair before following carefully behind America who bounded down isle upon isle of trees. He wrinkled his nose at the smell. It was pungent and thick, a mixture between the musky smell of pine and sweet sap that reminded him of cheap cleaning supplies.
America spun around. "Which one do you think we should get?" He laughed, his childish senses almost overloaded by the sheer number of choices.
Austria raised an eyebrow. "If you must insist on a tree," he looked about, "I would prefer one with no sap."
"That's part of the fun!" America giggled, crunching on through the snow and examining the price tags tied around the base of each trunk. "Since I'm paying for it, we need to get one with extra sap!" He sighed happily, remembering his childhood. "I remember when I was younger, the sap would get all over the presents and it would make them so fun to unwrap!"
Austria raised an eyebrow and finally let himself meet America's eyes. He glared at him for a few short moments, before looking away. Resisting America was like going up against a mountain; there was no way that anyone would be able to persuade him otherwise.
"Get whatever you would like." He huffed crossing his arms, feeling his face turn pink in annoyance.
America grinned and moved back to where Austria stood. "You're blushing!" He hooted. "Geez, I didn't think picking out a tree was this hard for you."
America had gotten the wrong idea. Austria blinked and adjusted his glasses on his nose. "I am not blushing. You simply annoy me is all." He stated truthfully.
America rolled his eyes playfully. "Yeah, yeah, whatever you say."
The two walked in silence for a long while. America swallowed, feeling the nervous feeling come back to replace his initial wonder. Every time it had, he had tried to push it away out of fear of what it might lead to. It was scary to think that he was possibly feeling something towards...No. He wouldn't think about it. Or…Should he? The more he thought about it, the more his feelings ran together in his stomach, twisting him in knots. He hated himself for noticing how, dare he think it again, attractive Austria could be. There was no denying it anymore, but he couldn't quite put his finger on why he kept making this internal connection with someone he previously hated. They were far too different to ever make such a connection, but here he was thinking about how adorable Austria was when he got flustered or how bizarrely warm his cold hands felt in his own.
America froze in his tracks. "What the hell am I thinking!?" He blustered out loud, stomping in the crisp snow.
Austria stopped and gave America a look of shock. "Is something the matter?" He replied gradually, as though the comment was meant for him.
This was it. America had done it. There was no hiding from it now. This time he couldn't divert the conversation away or find a different way to duck out from his own idiocy. America groaned in horrendous embarrassment, wanting to disappear. He glanced up. Austria was waiting for his response, quite patiently to his surprise. He didn't seem to be as judgmental as when the two had first started their journey together. Austria wore more an expression of forgiving concern, rather than his usual jumping to conclusions. America wasn't sure if he was trying to look like he cared, or if Austria was unconsciously warming up to him.
"What is the matter?" Austria asked again, probing for a response.
America looked around a bit. The other patrons had gone separate ways, leaving the two alone in the cold to talk about whatever they pleased. It was now or never.
I think I might want to have coffee with you again. America thought shakily to himself.
"America?" Austria said again, this time more forcefully.
I…I think I want to try and hold your hand again. America looked down at his shoes, mouthing the words silently to himself, hoping Austria couldn't read lips. He was terrified by his own rational, not knowing where this was leading
Austria definitely noticed. "This isn't a game." He sneered, his concern rapidly fading. "I don't want to play this with you."
"Wait," America forced himself to squeeze out, "Would you do something for me while we're here?"
Austria paused, still slightly untrusting of America's strange motives. He could never predict what he wanted. "That would depend on what it is."
America gathered all of his internal strength. He was a hero, and a hero could handle anything. Hesitantly, he held out his arm. "Could you hold on to my arm?" He mumbled.
Austria's rising anger simmered back down. "What is this?" He asked suddenly, turning away to hide his surprise. "Don't be strange."
"Please," America muttered, "it's nothing weird. I just want to do an experiment. I feel comfortable around you for some reason," he trailed off.
Austria sighed and turned to face him. "This is very strange." He reached out tentatively and took hold of the puffy sleeve of America's coat arm. "Now what do you want from me?"
America felt his heartrate increase at Austria's touch. "U-um…Let's just walk this way for a while until we find a tree." He half stuttered.
America walked briskly, trying not to focus on how soft Austria's grip was. He was hesitant, but the longer the two walked together, the more comfortable they grew towards each other. After some time, America noticed that Austria had almost forgotten that he was holding on to him as if it had become instinctual, in turn relaxing himself. America slipped his hands in his pockets, allowing Austria access to the crook of his arm. There was a lot of conversation from that point forward over many different topics. America recited the keys on the piano and felt ashamed when he couldn't remember what key he was practicing in. Austria scolded him for keeping a messy room and not practicing as often as he should. Finally, the subject circled around to Austria's health. It was a sensitive subject, but America couldn't bring himself to ignore it any longer.
"Do you feel alright?" He asked softly so the other patrons wouldn't overhear. "The other day you seemed really sick."
Almost immediately, Austria dismissed the comment. "Yes, yes, I am fine." He responded curtly, not wanting to continue with this talk.
America wasn't satisfied with that answer. "You didn't seem fine." He motioned. "How long has this been going on?"
Austria went stiff and stared straight onwards, putting an invisible wall in between the two, letting go of America's arm and walking with firm steps forward to the row of trees before them.
"I would like this one." He announced snappily. "Now, I would like to go back to the house. I need to go to my study."
America felt desperate. "Austria, please," He begged, reaching out to touch his shoulder.
Austria pulled away from him and kept walking. "Pay for the tree and take me home." He demanded.
America ran after him. "You need to stop this!" He growled, summoning the little ferocity he had inside himself. He grabbed Austria by the wrist and blinked. He hadn't noticed how bony Austria was before.
Austria tried to yank away but America held him firmly in place. Austria had always worn long sleeves, so America couldn't see to what extent his health issues were truly running. He turned Austria's palm over and tenderly rolled up his sleeve to reveal a sickening sight. Austria wasn't just thin; he was nearly emaciated. America couldn't believe things were so horrible as to harm him to such an extent as this. It honestly blew his mind how fragile Austria appeared. He looked as though the wind could blow him away at any moment if he let go, or he could collapse into a pile of bones and nothingness.
Overwhelming emotion overtook America. It was painful and heartbreaking, he couldn't help himself. He pulled Austria in and, without thinking, wrapped his arms around his shoulders, being careful not to squeeze out of fear of breaking him.
"What's wrong, Roderich?" He whispered. "Tell me and I can help you, please."
Austria felt the same numbness as he had the night before, and wanted more than anything to burst into tears. He must remain composed for the sake of his image. He didn't resist America, but rather stood limp in America's soothing grip, taking in the much needed warmth from America's body. Austria let himself hear America's heartbeat, pressing his ear to his broad chest. It was moderate and loud. At the powerful sound, Austria became overwhelmed and struggled slightly to get away, taking several steps in the opposite direction and nearly tripping in the snow. For some reason, he felt an impossible urge to pour everything out to America, but he knew that America could never truly accept what was happening to him. The two hadn't been around each other for as long as they could have been, and the deep undying fear of judgement still hung over Austria's head like a raincloud. America could never know what he had done.
"I'm not sure but I…I think I'm starting to like you." America whispered through the starting snow flurry, hoping to spark any answer at all. He needed to know that Austria was listening, that he was trying to comprehend what was going on.
Austria's gaze was cold and unforgiving, and shot through America's chest like an icicle. "You don't know what you like." With that, he turned and started for the road, refusing to look back. "Pay for delivery of the tree and take me to the house. I must go to my study, and you must practice your music."
America was astonished. What on earth was that supposed to mean? He was both incredibly wounded and deeply captivated by how many times Austria demanded going to his study. America narrowed his eyes. There was no chance in hell that he was giving up on Austria just yet. He was growing to care about him, and he was going to do anything to solve the disordered enigma that Austria had thrown before him to decode. It was completely apparent to America that Austria was struggling with something he couldn't fight on his own, and America was fully prepared to face whatever it was together. This protective instinct drove him to formulate a plan. He needed more than anything to take Austria's mind off of the agony he was experiencing, and he had a few plans on how to bring up Austria's ever dampening spirits. No one could say no to decorating a Christmas tree together. It was too much fun to reject! A grin popped like a daisy on America's face once more. Then, came the part of the plan that he wasn't proud of. He would need to break into Austria's study to find out what he was keeping locked away from the public. Austria would hate him, but if America could only know even a fraction of what was happening, he may be able to help Austria from getting worse.
"Austria, wait! We're going to have a great night together!" America called happily, chasing after him. At least they had picked out the best Christmas tree in the whole lot. This was going to be a good night indeed.
Wiktor: I'm glad that this is back. I'm excited to write again! Hope you liked and I'll see you for my next update soon.
