Chapter 4
America tapped his foot rapidly against the floor as he waited impatiently alone in a booth. He had called Japan earlier and requested to talk to him about what happened yesterday. He wanted to know exactly what had happened.
Alfred wasn't usually the one to arrive early. He'd sat there for nearly ten minutes before he had realized that he'd gotten there half an hour early on accident. He huffed as he looked down at his second cup of coffee, this was one of his favorite places to get it and he really didn't have much else to do at this point. He didn't have enough time to go home, but he was still sufficiently bored just sitting around. He didn't even have enough time to order something.
He looked down at his watch and glanced back out of the window, hoping the Asian country would be early as usual. He was not disappointed. "Alfred?" The blue-eyed nation whipped around at the sound of his friend's voice and his face broke out into a smile at his pensive friend.
"Hey man! I was starting to think you wouldn't show up!" He exclaimed happily, gesturing to the seat opposite him. "C'mon sit down!'
"Thank you." Japan bowed and took the seat saying politely. "You're early. That is very unusual. I-I mean no offense of course. This is a good thing. An improvement on your part." He said hurriedly
"Haha! Actually I forgot we wanted to meet at 1:30. I thought we were meeting at 1:00, sorry!" He admitted cheerily, taking another sip of his coffee.
Japan sighed. "Well, perhaps you will improve for future meetings." Alfred grinned sheepishly at the older nation. He knew the Japanese man couldn't stand to say anything negative in front of him out of pure politeness.
"Sure thing dude!" He replied, knowing that was a long shot. He just wanted to get down to the point, being the impatient country he knew he was.
"So um, what is it you wanted to talk to me about?" The Japanese country asked, his eyes unwavering and his expression carefully concealed. America pretended not to notice.
"Oh, I just wanted to catch up." He said casually taking a sip of his coffee. "So, how was lunch with Ludwig and Feli yesterday?" He asked, hoping he didn't sound too eager for the information.
Japan sucked in a small breath and said quietly. "Um, well it went alright."
"Uh huh." The blonde crossed his arms and said, trying his best not to sound too accusing. "So, a thing came up with your boss? What was that all about?"
The Japanese nation looked down, his face splattered with color. "Hai, that is correct." He said slowly.
"What did you have to do that couldn't wait?" He asked, causing Kiku to look positively panicked.
"I uh-" He sighed, and America noted his 'I'm about to cave' face. "Why are you so interested Alfred?"
The blond shrugged, knowing he had asked about it too quickly. "I'm just curious. Feli didn't really want to talk about it much. With Ludwig there and all I just thought you could tell me how it went and all."
Kiku looked away, looking guilty and nervous. "I-I see, well, I didn't really have anywhere I we needed per say..."
America frowned, anger bubbling up in his chest. "Wait what?"
Kiku nodded, his face falling back into an unreadable vale as he said quickly, the words reluctant to leave his lips. "Ludwig has been distant and depressed these last few years without Feliciano." The nation sighed, his head bowing in shame as he continued. "I-I believe Feliciano always makes Ludwig happy. You must understand I just want my friends to be happy. So I decided to help Ludwig get Feliciano back. The plan was to leave them alone and-and." The Japanese nation shuttered under the American nation's steadily enraged expression, Kiki's body began to shake as he plowed on reluctantly. "To um, ask Feliciano about his feelings and, well, to ask him to come over to Ludwig's house and speak with him in private if he felt anything romantic towards Ludwig anymore. If not, Ludwig was suppose to drop it and the two would simply remain friends. So everyone is happy..."
Alfred's heart seemed to stop, his blood thickened and lightheadedness shrouded his vision and choked his senses. "A-and did he?"
Japan appeared more frightened at the American's deadened tone and desperately livid cerulean eyes than he had at the blonde nation's initial outburst. "I do not believe so as you and he are clearly still together, am I correct?"
Alfred barely heard him as his mind buzzed with wild theories and his body began to shake uncontrollably. Had Italy lied to him? Did the brunette go the Germany's, confess and prolong their breakup? Why? "Yeah." He replied breathlessly.
America's chest tightened and he found oxygen harder and harder to come by. "He, did… leave for a few hours last night but…" the blond nation felt his eyes drop to his coffee. Numbness crawled throughout his veins; did Feli really not go anywhere last night?
"I have to go Japan." He murmured, hastily paying for his coffee, only one goal in mind as he grabbed his jacket and turned away from the table. "I'll talk to you later."
"G-goodbye Mr. America." The Japanese nation stuttered. Alfred didn't look back as he bolted out the swinging doors, racing towards his car and shoving his keys into the ignition. Only one thought in his mind.
Italy.
...
Feliciano frowned as he stared down at his phone, dread filling him with every passing second. He wanted to call, but he didn't want to call. Italy's instinct of course, was to let him just calm down and cool off on his own. Last night had gotten too far out of hand and something needed to be done about it, and soon.
Just as the brunette was about to either dial the first of the numbers or hang up the phone completely, the door opened with a bang causing him to jump right out of his skin. "Alfred?" He called tentatively, walking cautiously towards the front door. His heart hammered against his chest as heavy footsteps thundered against the floor.
America rounded the corner into the kitchen looking windswept and livid. Italy trembled a little and backed up, what had the American so vexed? Hadn't he just gone to chat with Japan? Italy knew the Asian nation to be friendly and not the irritating type, something was wrong.
Feliciano squeaked in fright as Alfred advanced, moving swiftly up to the brunette his eyes illuminated with indignation. The Italian nation took a step back but America snatched him by the wrist, effectively trapping the older country where he stood. Italy felt his heart thunder against his chest, his skin trembled as he started quivering under America's blue eyes.
"A-Alfred?" He stuttered as they stood there, frozen in an uncomfortably nerve numbing predicament. "What are you-?" Italy violently blanched when the blond nation expeditiously swiped Feliciano's other wrist and yanked him forward, their faces now mere millimeters from touching. The brunette could feel the American's still labored breath brush past his cheek.
Italy stood there his chocolate eyes incomprehensibly wide as America quivered his jaw fixed. He looked like he was struggling for something to say as he overshadowed and overpowered the brunette with his larger and more muscular figure. Italy couldn't say in the past two years he had been very afraid that America would hurt him, or hit him or beat him even when he did something stupid, or hopeless, or cowardly irrational. Right now on the other hand, Feli felt like Alfred might be tempted to do any number of those things.
But what had he done? Why was America just staring down at him furious beyond speech? He didn't understand, had something happened with Japan? Or had he found out about-?
"I can't believe you would do something like that!" He snarled, his voice almost indistinguishably hushed. Italy blinked and comprehension struck him like a bombshell.
"Alfred," He began, staring desperately into his cerulean eyes. He supposed it came as no surprise, this wasn't something he would generally do. "I'm sorry I lied but I-"
Italy gasped as Alfred shook him furiously, his grip tightening painfully on the brunette's thin wrists. "No! This is unacceptable! I can't believe you went to Germany's last night!" Tears were gathering in the older nation's illustrious eyes.
Italy gaped, completely shocked and appalled. "Wh-what? No, no Alfred that's not what-!"
"Don't you dare lie to me!" The blond bellowed. The brunette to futilely yank at his slim wrists, causing America to grip them tighter. The Italian mewl distressfully. "Japan told me all about it! Where the hell did you go last night and don't lie to me?"
A sob erupted painfully from Feli's chest, rocking his entire body. It took a moment for him to form a response. "A-alright. I went over to Spain's house-"
"You did not!" He insisted furiously, giving the brunette a little shake.
"W-why won't you believe me?" He shrieked, more frightened than anything else, all his instincts telling him to run from the big, bad scary country. But this was America he shouldn't be this afraid of him, it didn't feel right.
"You slut! Why the hell would you lie to me just to break up with me? I can't believe you!" Italy felt tears once again begin to run thick and fast down his soft cheeks, doubt and fear began burrowing their way into the depths of Italy's heart. It cracked his trust and chipped away at his feelings for the American.
Feliciano shuttered an intake of breath and said shakily. "I'm sorry I lied but that's the truth! Y-you can call Spain if you w-want. He'll tell you I was there." He stuttered averting his eyes from Alfred's crazed blue ones and whimpered tentatively. "Please let go of me. It h-hurts."
America shook with rage and shoved Italy to the ground letting the Italian's tan wrists go. Italy 'oofed' as he hit the wooden floor with a loud thump, his tears splattering from his face and onto the floor.
Italy watched in trembling silence as the American rapidly dialed in a number and stared the Italian down, nothing but a cold resolution in his cerulean eyes. Italy trembled beneath his gaze and hiccuped, weeping loudly as he looked down at his now bruised wrists. He felt the image of the American forcefully grabbing him in a bruising grip, looking down at him with hate in his blue eyes and yelling at him with accusation and distrust in his voice burrow in the back of his mind.
He sat there in silence, looking up behind his auburn bangs with wavering chocolate eyes. Finally it seemed someone had answered as the blond nation said calmly (though his eyes told a different story). "Hey, um, this is America… yeah just a quick question…yeah um, did Italy go over to your house last night…?" America's eyes widened and Italy knew he was busted, he felt his head bow in shame. How had he managed to lose so much in just one night?
Alfred's eyes continued to widen as he gazed down at the Italian. The brunette looked down, he was obviously hearing about what had happened at Spain's house. Italy felt a weighing despondency settle throughout his body as the blond nation gave him a desperately despairing look, one that he knew he would have to look past. Italy couldn't just forgive him right now. He'd really scared him and right now he didn't want to look at him.
"R-right um, thank you Spain I'll tell Italy to call him… bye." The American hung up, and turned to Italy his head bowed. Feliciano stood up, causing the blond to look up with deadened eyes.
Italy sighed, and decided to speak first. "You don't trust me."
"Feli-"
"Why won't you just believe me?" He demanded, his voice was flat and to the point.
"I-I don't know I'm sorry. I just wanted to protect you."
He clenched his fist and brought his wrist up to examine them closer. Italy shook his head, his arms dropping to his sides. "I think you should leave."
Italy turned away from America's crestfallen expression. "B-but Feli-!"
"Please, just get out. I-I need some time to think. Please." He begged, hoping the blond would just leave him to his thoughts.
"I'm sorry! Please Feli-!" Al begged.
"Just get out I don't want to hear it right now!" He screamed. Alfred nodded and walked slowly to the door, looking desperately back as he swung open the door.
"Are we, over then?" Italy felt himself soften and shake his head.
"No. I just need time to think. I'll call you, soon." He gently nudged the blonde off the threshold with both of his hands and made to close the door. Alfred grabbed his hand tenderly and stared into Italy's chocolate eyes.
"I love you." His forlorn voice dug deeply into the brunette's fragile heart. But he wouldn't let himself fall down that hole again.
"Goodbye, Alfred." And he closed the door on Alfred's big, blue eyes.
…
It took Italy a good hour to get control of himself. He didn't understand anything right now. Everyone was leaving him and even Japan had somehow known about what had happened and told America about Germany. Could he trust anyone if he couldn't even trust his closest friends and family? He cried on the kitchen floor for what felt like forever until he finally managed to control his sobbing.
He stared blankly at the floor, curled up in a hot mess of tears and snot. He hiccuped, trying to keep his despair at bay. He felt so lost, what was he suppose to do now? His life revolved around his friends and family, he loved all of them to death. But right now he felt like he couldn't call a single one of them to talk to.
But he did have one call to make, one he had been dreading for as long as he knew he would have to make it. So he got up, went to the bathroom and started to clean himself up, blew his nose, washed his face and grabbed the phone, took a deep breath and dialed in the familiar numbers, tapping his foot nervously before a familiar irate voice answered. "Who are you and what the hell do you want?"
"Fratello? It's Veneciano." He began nervously, trembling at the prospect of talking to his brother after last night.
"Eh? What do you want you ungrateful bastard?" His brother snapped, but Italy could easily identify the longing in his voice. It was something he was adept at picking up from years of living together.
"I-I'm sorry for last night!" He blubbered, trying his hardest not to burst out into tears. "I'm sorry I yelled at you! I'm sorry please forgive me I love you Romano!" He yelled, tears silently falling from his eyes as much as he tried to stop them.
There was long silence from the other end and for a moment Feliciano thought Lovino must have hung up on him, but finally he replied. "I shouldn't have yelled. I know how much you like that hamburger eating bastard. I just wish you were around more often. You're always visiting him lately."
Italy stifled a whimper as he replied. "I know. I'm so sorry." He hadn't told Lovino that they had pretty much moved in together, it would only make things worse. He'd tell him when he'd gotten used to Alfred. He had to force the thought that he might not have to worry about that after all to the back of his mind.
There was another tense pause before the older Italian asked accusingly. "Are you crying? Tell me the truth!"
Italy, much to his credit, had become adapt at crying silently, mostly for his own sanity. It happened around the time Holy Rome disappeared, he never wanted to bother Mrs. Hungary or Mr. Austria so he learned quickly how to stifle his voice. But Romano knew him better than almost anyone else and could see past him to easily. He wouldn't lie. "Yes."
"... Is it because of me?" Romano whispered.
"Wha-? No! Not at all, oh Lovino-"
"Then I was right! It was that bastard America wasn't it? Tell me everything or I'm coming over with my shotgun and blowing that asshole's brain's out!" Lovino shrieked, making Italy flinch away from the phone, fear spiking his entire being.
So he decided to just finally come clean and tell him everything. Italy found that doing otherwise when it came to Romano was usually a big mistake. Feliciano's tears began to dry as he ranted rapidly through the events that had been unfolding around him. He mentioned Germany and the restaurant and his strange offer, he told him about the night he and America had fought about the kiss and the next day when America accused him of cheating.
To his surprise and slight confusion, Romano stayed nearly silent throughout the entire thing (spare the occasional scoff or snort) it was both terrifying and relieving. This uncharacteristic silence was almost scaring him, but being able to get all of this off his chest was liberating beyond expression.
When he finally fell silent the conversation was dowsed in awkward tension. Italy wasn't sure what his twin was thinking and it terrified him.
"Lovi? Are you still there?" He asked tentatively. "Hello?"
"When I get my hands on those blond idiots I'm going to strangle them, tie them up by their ankles and shoot both of their heads off!" Italy squeaked in fright as his brother's overprotectiveness spilled over in the rush of the empty threats that followed.
It made Italy shake and yell panicked into the receiver. "Calm down please fratello! I beg you don't hurt them!"
"And why the hell not? Neither of them seem to think twice about ripping out your heart and trampling right over it like the clumsy bastards they are! Spain! Get the battle axe-!"
"No! Ve, please don't do anything Roma I don't want you to get hurt." Italy whined, hoping to coax the brunette away from his violent mood. "I'll figure it out I promise."
"You better." Lovi growled. "Or else I'll have to clean up your mess again!"
Feliciano nodded, content with that answer and said. "I will! So are we alright then?"
"Yeah, yeah whatever." Romano muttered. "Talk to you soon."
"Ciao!"
…
Alfred felt nothing but numbness as he sat on his bed, his cerulean eyes blurring with unshed tears as he tried desperately to get Italy's frightened expression out of the back of his mind.
What was going to happen to them now? How could he possibly make it up to Feliciano after this? He had hurt him, that was something he never thought he would do before! He felt dirty, like a ticking time bomb. He didn't even realize he was capable of such violence towards someone he loved so much.
And then an image of England, on his knees in the rain, sobbing his heart out filled America's vision and he felt a million times worse. Was he only capable of hurting those closest to him? What on Earth was he suppose to do?
He needed help, so he decided to call the only person he knew who wouldn't judge him (openly, at the very least). So, he wiped at his eyes and ran for the phone, hoping he wouldn't sound like the mess he knew he looked. He tapped his foot impatiently on the ground waiting for his twin brother to pick up.
"Hello! This is Cana-"
"Mattie! I'm in big trouble I need your help please I'm begging you, I messed up big time with Feli! I yelled, and he kicked me out and I don't know what to do without him and-!"
"Alfred, why don't you calm down now eh? Just take three deep breaths and tell me exactly what happened ok?" The Canadian murmured softly. He obeyed, if a little hastily.
"Better?" Canada asked, making Alfred calm down and begin spilling his guts, the story slipping passed his lips in a waterfall information. By the time he was finished, Canada was shocked into utter silence, which only made the blond's panic increase.
"Mattie? Tell me what to do I don't know what to do! I love him and I'm pretty sure he hates me!" Alfred despaired, clutching at his dirty blonde locks, tears beginning to reform in his eyes.
"I-I don't know Al." Canada sighed. "I'm still confused, why did you grab Italy like that?"
"I don't know! All I could see was him rushing back to Germany's arms, and I just lost it. I haven't gotten that violent with someone who meant that much to me since-" Alfred shut his mouth. He never talked about the revolutionary war, even around Matthew who know all about it. It still hurt to know how much he hurt England by leaving him. "Well, you know." He muttered, hoping Canada would just let it go.
Matthew sighed pausing for a few moments before he replied. "I think the only thing you can do is apologize, try to explain and beg for forgiveness eh? There's no real trick to it Al but you should give him some time to think, okay?"
"B-but what if he decides that he hates me and breaks up with me?"
"Well if you go up there now he won't appreciate it. He needs space and time to think it over. If you just go over there now, all he's going to think about is you hurting him. Give him time to air out and wait for him to call you. Don't press this because if you do he's going to break up with you." Canada reasoned. "Have some food and get some sleep eh?"
America nodded, then realized a moment later Canada couldn't see him. "Alright," He sighed. "Thanks bro."
"It's no trouble Al, I hope everything works out for you!"
"Thanks. Just a question, how long do you think I should wait? I-if he doesn't call you know..."
There was a tense pause before he replied. "A week. If he hasn't said anything by then call him. If by Monday he hasn't returned any of your calls you should go over there."
America nodded trying to burn the information into the back of his mind. "Thanks Mattie. I owe you." Alfred smiled, an unrelenting wave of gratitude towards the Canadian hitting him like a train. "I love you bro."
"I love you too Al." Canada replied. "Good luck. go get 'em."
"Thanks. Bye!"
"Goodbye."
Alfred hung up, feeling at least slightly better now that he had a plan. He took Canada's advice and had a few burgers before crawling into bed, a dull ache and bad memories plaguing his every moment. The bed felt cold and desolate without Italy there with him. He scowled down at his sheets as though it was their fault he felt so cold with no one to sleep next to. He tossed and turned, looking out the window, wondering what Feli was doing right now and how he was holding up.
Was Italy thinking about him? Did he feel alone and abandoned? Was he rethinking their relationship? Did he perhaps already decide to break up with him and was just wondering how to break it to him? What if, dare he think it, Italy really did go back to Germany because of him? This thought sent tears rushing back to Alfred's eyes, he felt his stomach convulse with pain and his body curl up in itself.
But there was one thing that comforted America beyond anything Canada could have said to him. One small beacon of light in the vast distance that was the week to follow and that was the fact Italy hadn't in fact, dumped him yet. If in the heat of the moment the brunette couldn't find it within himself to tell him they were over, would he be able to do it after he had calmed down?
Just that simple technicality made the blond nation's entire fame relax considerably. He fell asleep, imagining Italy tucking him in and leaving a soft his on his cheek as he shut the door behind him.
(AN):
Hello! Ok, before you kill me let me explain.
My interpretation of America includes him having separation issues since the revolutionary war. He's afraid of people leaving him and losing people. He also doesn't quite know his own strength, so he didn't mean to hurt Italy like he did, he just didn't want him running off. He just wanted him to listen and now he's kicking himself for it as you can clearly see.
I'm sorry! I hated doing that but it had to be done!
was only recently fixed so I haven't been able to see how many people have been viewing my stories, but I appreciate them! Thank you very much for all the lovely reviews!
Special thanks to Nebula Galaxies. She/he has been giving my stories a lot of love lately and if you're reading this I appreciate you and what you do for my stories!