Just a small, sad-ish oneshot. Told in Gilbert (Prussia) 's point of view. Sorry if its a bit OOC...

"No."

The word came out blunter, sharper than I had imagined it to be. I could see it in her eyes, the word had cut her like a knife. A part of me wanted to stop, to pause and consider. But did I? No, of course not.

"I'm sorry. Why don't you try and find someone else? I don't think we're right for each other," I carried on my linguistic assault ruthlessly.

I watched her reaction with a sort of aloof detachment. The brown haired girl staggered backwards, tears starting to form in the corners of her eyes. She shook her head slowly, her long chocolate hair flying around her small pale face. Although I kept up my calm façade inside, I could feel a twinge of guilt. The girl was going to pieces in front of me, because of me. In truth, I didn't reject her confession because I didn't like her, in fact, I barely knew the girl. I didn't want to be part of a troublesome relationship, especially with someone I had just met.

But that was then. Now, I'm standing by myself in the middle of a wedding, amid a sea of faces. Trying to claim affection from a girl I knew would never care for me. Just because I was ten years late in answering her confession.

I was, sad to say, preoccupied in the days that followed that fateful confession ten years ago. I, who hardly bothered with the opposite sex, let alone think of them, found myself spending the idle moments in my day looking back at her hopeful expression when she confessed. It also didn't help that my mind constantly urged me to relieve the sharp pang of guilt at her horrified, crying face. The weight of the guilt would hang ever more heavily in my heart each time.

Her name was Elizaveta, as I had found out. We had been in the same class for a few months now but this was the first time I've ever bothered to find out the names of my classmates. I could only vaguely remember the names of those sitting closest to me; I was never very good at names.

I began to watch her as the days went by. Perhaps I was curious about this mysterious girl. Perhaps I simply wondered why no mention of this fateful event was made between us, or anyone else. Her gang of giggling girls seemed completely oblivious to the exchange that happened. Even now as I look back, I can't determine the reason for my sudden attention on her.

All I knew was that she slowly became more familiar to me. I noticed the careful way she tied up her hair during PE class, to keep her bangs out of her eyes. There was always this same lock of hair that fell out of the small ponytail because it was too short to be caught by the rubber band. I unfailingly noticed the little crease in-between her eyes when she frowned, and the crinkles at the side of her warm emerald eyes whenever she smiled. I could recognize her laugh, even amidst a sea of noise. In fact, I would always strain my ears to hear it. I remember how calming the sweet laughter was to me.

I suppose I would have noticed what was happening to myself had I partaken in the reading of more romance novels. But alas, the only romance I had ever read would be the book forced upon the class by our English teacher, the tragic love story of Romeo and Juliet. Never would I have thought that I would be pulled into a love saga of my own, a very one sided romance at that.

I think that had I left her at the end of my secondary school years, I would have in avertedly reverted to my previous cool and aloof attitude. It would have saved me a lot of drama and grief in my life as well. However, the red threads of fate, being the cruel things they were, continued to draw us together.

When I met her once more during Junior College, I decided that I could hold my silence no longer. Elizaveta hadn't spoken to me since her confession, too embarrassed perhaps, to face me. But all that time watching her made the girl familiar to me, and I was able to talk to her with ease. And Elizaveta, graciously accepted my friendship.

That friendship sparked a remarkable change in me. Gone was my personality that befitted an ice sculpture. In its place now settled that of song bird, lighthearted and amicable. I was able to enjoy having a friend for what seemed like the first time.

I was able to forge friendships with my classmates, urged on by Elizaveta's warm smile. Those days were among the happiest of my life. I was able to learn so much, experienced so much. But, I was too late. I was still confused about my rapidly changing emotions, I thought that friendship was enough for me. But it wasn't and Elizaveta didn't wait.

So that landed me in my situation now. She was going to marry a man that was, simply put, not myself. Actually, I'm not sure why she would even marry him. He was long and gangly, as if a giant had pulled him like a rubber band then walked off in disgust. He even wore these ridiculous nerdy glasses. Nothing near my debonair looks. How her standards have fallen!

"I'm sorry… I don't think we're right for each other," the girl at the altar whispered apologetically, throwing the words from ten years ago back at me. I nodded, pulling my frozen face into a careful smile. The women around me chattered to one another excitedly behind their hands, glad to have some gossip to discuss with their overweight husbands over the dinner table. Well, looks like I'm going to become a household name now.

"Gilbert, you idiot, what are you doing? Sit down!" my long standing good friend, Francis hissed, pulling me back down next to him. The dumbstruck pastor fumbled for a moment before clearing his throat and continuing the ceremony.

"If there are no other interruptions," the old man began, albeit somewhat shakily. I felt myself go numb in my seat. This girl changed me so much inside, my character, my personality, my outlook on life. But it seemed no matter how much I changed, our fate would never. We were never meant to be together, not from the start, not even now.

"I now pronounce you man and wife."

I could almost hear my heart shattering. I doubt it would ever be whole again.