[aph] If I tell you I love you, will you come back to me?

[coconabanana]

Title:: If I tell you I love you…
Chapter Title:: … will you come back to me?
Fandom:: Axis Powers Hetalia
Character(s):: Alfred F. Jones, Arthur Kirkland
Pairing(s):: America/England
Rating:: PG-13
Word count:: 1812
Genre:: Romance, period.
Warning:: angst, insane amount of fluff, and implied sexual activities at the second halves of the story. And unbeta'd
Disclaimer:: Even the sentence I use as the prompt isn’t mine, duh.
Summary:: There is only one question, ‘If I tell you I love you, will you…?’ What will your answer be?
A/N: The first out of the few more one-shots using ‘If I tell you I love you, will you …?’ as the prompts (inspired from this fic). Seriously I was in the middle of end of term examinations when I wrote this. Pardon me for the weirdness. 8D
…will you come back to me?
It’s heavy.

The rain was pouring down too heavily. Icy cold rain water pelted every surface of his skin, dampen his golden blonde hair, making it felt heavy, and clinging to his forehead.

He breathed heavily. His breath formed a puff of fog as he breathed out, warm breath mixed up with the bone-piercing cold air.

His heart felt too heavy inside his chest. It was thumping too loud, he could hear the hard beat drumming in his ears even with the heavy rain.

His eyes felt very heavy too; from the rain? Maybe yes.

Anger? Maybe no.

Exhaustion? Most definitely.

From the tear? Of course not.

He wouldn’t, couldn’t, shouldn’t cry. Not when Arthur was crying in front of him, kneeling, covered in mud and blood and rain… and sobbing.

Alfred tried to tune out the sound of the rain, tune out the murmurs of his men standing behind him, awaiting his order to fire.

He tried to tune everything out and just let the sound of Arthur’s sobs seeped through his skin, his vein, his nerve, his ear, his brain, his mind, his heart.

He tried to make himself believe that it was just an illusion, that maybe he had started to become delusional.

Arthur was not crying, it was only the rain, it was the rain that made it looks like he was crying, it was so Alfred would run to him and hug him again, just like every time he saw him crying. It was the rain that made it looks like Arthur was broken, broken because of his rebellion, because of him wanting to be an independent nation, because Alfred wanted to leave Arthur.

He tried to make himself believe that Arthur wouldn’t be crying just because of this; he was the British Empire, right? The British Empire shouldn’t be reduced to this just because of his small rebellion, right?

No, it’s just the rain. Don’t let it bothers you.

“You’re a fool…”

You are stronger than this.

“You know I would never be able to fire, you twat!”

It’s just the rain. Your people need you.

He made up his mind. He clenched his fists. He pushed down the urge to throw everything away and run back to the man who raised him.

“England…”

Arthur looked up to him, his face was wet with tears… no, it’s just the rain. And Alfred could see there were too many emotions raging inside those green orbs, longing, anger, sadness, love, regret. There were so many things, everything but hate.

He should’ve hated me for leaving him, right?

“You… used to be so great.”

This was it. It was his good bye. And he turned to leave, leaving the past behind, leaving Arthur behind.

And it felt heavy, really heavy. It felt like the rain water was not water; it was like millions of needles falling and pricked his skin, his bones, his heart. It felt so heavy and his heart was cracking.

And he thought he heard Arthur’s voice again, filled with anguish, and tears, and no, it’s just the rain.

“Alfred!”

He stopped his track and hesitantly turned back. Arthur was still kneeling on the ground, his face still wet with rain water, his eyes still filled with too many kinds of emotions Alfred didn’t want to decipher.

“If… If I tell you I… love you, will you come back to me?”

It was too heavy, the rain was. Too heavy and his heart started to break. And he clenched his fists again, closed his eyes for a couple of seconds, opened it and hardened his will.

“If you really loved me, you wouldn’t do this to me. If you really loved me, you wouldn’t have used me for your own personal gain. If you really loved me, you wouldn’t have forced me and my people those unreasonable taxes.”

His voice was cold, as cold as the rain water. And this was the best. It was the best for his people. It was the best for him. But is it?

Arthur didn’t say anything. Their eyes locked for the longest of time until those green orbs lost its light and became dull.

“I will never come back to you. Ever.”

And before Arthur could say anything to sway his will again, Alfred walked away.

His ears could only hear two things now; the heavy rain and the crack of his broken heart.

--

Alfred opened his eyes and blinked a couple of times until he got used to the faint darkness of the room. The fragrance of lily, wet earth, sweat, and water, attacked his nose. He sniffed and scratched his nose.

He felt the bed shift a little and he squint his eyes to the end of the four poster bed. Arthur was looking at him over his bare shoulders, his hands pulling his knees together. Even amidst the darkness of the room Alfred could still see those emerald green eyes gleaming.

“Awake already?” He asked. “You keep on turning and tossing. Nightmare?”

Alfred reached out to the bedside table and took his glasses. He put Texas on and pulled himself up. “Maybe it’s a nightmare.” He scooted over to Arthur’s side and pulled the blanket to cover the both of them. “It’s raining, huh,” he said as he draped his arms over Arthur’s shoulders, resting his chin there, and followed his gaze to the window.

It was indeed raining. The rain water was pelting the large glass window, making not so melodious sound. Alfred frowned and thought maybe it was this rain that made him dreamt of that day again. It always happened whenever there was stormy rain happening. And this was why he felt a little bit of hesitation every time Arthur invited him over to his house, it was always raining here.

“‘Maybe’?” Arthur said, leaning his head to Alfred’s. “What were you dreaming about?”

Alfred breathed in and felt a little bit at ease as the faint fragrance of lily-it was Arthur’s smell-seeped through his lungs. He kissed the small reddened and tender spot on Arthur’s shoulder and sighed. “It’s nothing important.”

“Really now?”

“Uh-hum.”

They sat there in silence for few minutes, with only the sound of their synchronised breath and the heavy rain as their music. Alfred shifted his hands from Arthur’s shoulders to his lithe waist.

“What are you thinking?” he asked.

“Just wondering what you were dreaming about when you kept on saying ‘It’s just the rain. It’s just the rain.’” Arthur answered. When Alfred shifted, he put his hands over Alfred’s as if telling him to not move.

Alfred stay still and mentally cursed his mouth. “It’s nothing, really. You don’t really want to know.”

“If it’s nothing then you can just tell me what it was, right? And I want to know.”

He could feel the command in Arthur’s voice and he scowled at that. His mind was too tired from thinking about the dream and he really didn’t want to know how Arthur would react if he said he’s dreaming about the day when he left him.

“If you don’t want to tell me then it’s alright,” Arthur said. “I’ll just go back to sleep again.” He shoved Alfred’s hands away and laying back to his side of the bed to sleep again. He pulled the blanket to himself, covering his head, and left Alfred stared at him naked on the end of the bed.

“He-hey! Come on, Arthur! Come back here!”

Arthur didn’t respond and kept on ignoring Alfred’s plea. Alfred heaved after a few moments and took a long breath. “If I tell you I love you, will you come back to me?”

A short pause. And Alfred could only hear two things; the heavy rain and his own heartbeat.

Slowly, the blanket was pulled down; Arthur sat up straight and looked at Alfred’s eyes with a scowl. Alfred tried his best to not look away because he knew Arthur would be even angrier if he did.

“I was dreaming about that day again. When I left you on that rainy day,” he said carefully. He saw Arthur’s scowl deepened a bit. “See? I told you, you wouldn’t want to know.”

He looked away now, turning to see the window again, and pouted. He knew it was a childish act and he shouldn’t act so childish in this kind of atmosphere but he couldn’t help it. And then the bed shifted, two hands cupping his face and forced him to look back.

“I am not like you, you bloody twat,” Arthur said, giving Alfred’s lips a chaste kiss. He rested his forehead against Alfred’s and closed his eyes.

Alfred leant on to those warm hands. “What do you mean by that, old man?” he whispered, moving his body so he was facing Arthur.

“You didn’t come back to me when I asked you the same question, right?” Arthur moved his hands to Alfred’s hair and smoothing the golden locks.

Alfred sighed contently. “I had to.”

“I know.”

He tuned out every sound and concentrated on the sound of Arthur’s breath.

“I had to. Because it’s the best.”

The rain was still pouring down heavily outside the window. A thunder rumbled and a lightning stroke, giving the dark room a swift flash of light.

“I know.”

It was not just the rain. He knew it was not just the rain that made him dreamt of that accursed day again.

“When you cried that day…” He chastely kissed Arthur’s eyes.

“Hmm?”

“I kept on thinking that it was the rain that made it looked like you were crying.”

“Well, I was not crying for you.” Arthur kissed both of his cheeks. “It was indeed the rain.”

“I thought it was the rain that made it looked like you were crying, that’s why I didn’t run to you. I didn’t come back to you even when you asked me that question.” He took Arthur’s hands from his hair and kissed both of the calloused palms. “Because it’s the best for my people.”

“I know.”

“That’s why even if you say you loved me back then, I couldn’t come back to you.”

“I understand. See? I am not like you, Alfred. I will always come back to you even without you telling me you love me.”
He chuckled and kissed the corner of Arthur’s lips. “Really?”

“Yes.”

He nipped Arthur’s lower lip. “Why?”

Their lips met and moulded perfectly with each other.

“Because I love you, you ungrateful brat.”

Alfred laughed and gathered Arthur to him and laid both of their body back to the bed. He shifted his head on the space between Arthur’s neck and shoulder and snuggled there.

“And I love you more.”
The rain fell heavier. And Alfred could only hear one thing; the sound of Arthur’s chuckle against his forehead.

Endnote:: Ho-shite. I think I’m turning into a poodle of goo from the insane amount of mush. The fluffiest fluff I’ve ever written. I must be on crack when I wrote this. *nervous laugh*
Comment? ;D
Next one, will be; France/Jeanne~