This chapter was inspired by the song 'True Love' by P!nk because the line between love and hate is thinner than we would like to believe. Truly. We always seem to hurt the ones we love the most because we know that they will come back again and again… Until they do not.

This purposefully comes across as borderline abusive because Prussia wants to be dominated but he does not know how to ask. He manipulates Canada instead and takes what he needs. It does not make him a bad person, per se, just... Complicated.

Honk twice if you want something a little happier next time…

True Love

Canada had tried to walk away from the fight. He really, really had. That should count for something. But Prussia knew him, knew just which buttons to press, and knew how long to hold them down until he snapped.

He hissed and turned on his heel, pushing Prussia against the wall and pinning his hands above his head. The framed photographs rattled; pictures of them on dates, vacations, and that one embarrassing photograph that Prussia refused to take down.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?"

Prussia snarled and arched underneath him, pressing their hips together and wrapping one of his legs around Canada. He was excited.

"C'mon, c'mon, let's play," he licked at his throat, "C'mon, Matthew."

Canada knew what he wanted. He wanted to fight, he wanted to punch and kick and bite. He wanted Canada to tug on his hair and paint bruises over his thighs and backside. For whatever reason, Prussia wanted it rough and he would keep calling him names until he gave in.

Prussia had never been the best at communicating his wants or desires, so he pushed and prodded and bullied until he found what he needed.

And sometimes, just sometimes, he hurt Canada in the process.

"For the love of… Why can't you just ask, you complete and utter asshole? Are you just going to stand there and call me names until you get what you want? That's not fair!"

"Give it to me," Prussia shivered. "Tell me what you really think."

"You're sick, Gilbert. Twisted…" Canada curled his lips in disgust and slammed him against the wall again. "You need help."

"Yes, yes, give it to me." Prussia threw his head back and stared at Canada with blown pupils and flushed cheeks. He was too far gone, lost in sensation.

"Screw you," he growled.

"Yes, please."

The frustrating bit was that Canada did not even mind playing rough, not at all. He just wished that Prussia would ask instead of hurling insults at him until he gave in. Prussia chose the words that he knew would hurt him the most and he used them without reservation:

"You're a coward", "you're useless", "no one would notice if you disappeared…"

"No one can even see you..."

"You don't exist…"

If Canada wanted, he could do the same. He knew how to break Prussia in half and step on the pieces. He knew his fears, his doubts, and his worst nightmares. He knew him inside and out. If he wanted to, he could hurt him.

But he did not want to.

"Stop being such an insufferable dick."

"No," Prussia bucked beneath him and Canada sucked in a breath. "Give it to me."

"Shiiit…"

Prussia tugged him down and fisted handfuls of his sweater. He bit him.

At the end of the day, Canada would give him what he wanted. He would bend him over and wrap his hands around his neck. He hated him, he adored him… It was true love. It had to be; nothing else could break his heart like this, and no one else could break it quite like Prussia.

"Yes, yes, yes. Please, more, yes. Please."

Canada smirked.

"I'm sorry, I can't hear you."

"Fuck, yes, Matthew… Please! Matthew…"

He kissed him and slipped his tongue into his mouth. He chewed on his lips, brutal and violent. There would be time for apologies later.

If this was what Prussia needed, well… Canada would give it to him. Even if it broke his heart.

He scratched patterns over his ribcage and tweaked his nipples; he pinched and pulled and left bruises in his wake. He marked Prussia. He claimed him.

He hurt him.

And when it was over, when Prussia was calm and satisfied and faintly embarrassed, Canada cradled him against his chest and kissed him gently, softly. He traced the welts and contusions with his fingertips. He admired the contrast.

" 'm sorry," Prussia mumbled into the crook of his arm. The back of his neck and ears were vibrant and warm.

"… Why?" Canada prompted, even though he knew why. He just wanted to hear him say it.

"Uh, for what I said, I guess... That wasn't very… Nice."

"No, it wasn't."

" 'm sorry."

"I know. Just… Just ask next time, okay?"

"I'll, uhm, try to remember that."

"Good."

It was quiet for a moment before Prussia turned in his arms and kissed the tip of his nose. He laughed and nuzzled against him.

"I love you, Matthew. I really do. Thank you."

Canada sighed and tucked a pale wisp of hair behind his burning ears.

"I love you too."

Prussia could break his heart a thousand times… As long as he stitched it back together one more time.