[WIP] just be friends
Title: just be friends
Characters/Pairings: for now, OC!Piri and America, US/PH
Rating: PG for some violent imagery.
Genre: It’s too dramatic to just be historical drama, not too angsty to be historical angst, and at some parts not too historical. What I’m sure of is that it isn’t a happy fic.
Warning: This is a preview for my WIP. A preview. And thus you will have to forgive the shortness of this.
Summary: A series of drabblets based on certain verses in Luka Megurine’s song "Just be friends". She always forgave and forgot, everybody who she once had unsavory relationships with were now her friends. But there are still those who want to be more than just her ‘friend’. For this part: Alfred regrets everything.
~
I thought of it yesterday after the dawn had passed
While I was gathering pieces of a broken glass
What is going on now with drops that my fingers allow
Is this really what our hearts decided to be last?
~"Just be Friends"
He fumbles around in the bloodied earth for his glasses, grunting as his finger catches on a broken edge. Blood trickles down like rain in London; and that alone was weird because he was America and he was a hero and heroes don’t get all weak and caked in blood like he felt now and-
-and most of all, heroes didn’t hurt their damsels in distress.
But - but he’d told her to stop. She understood, didn’t she? She had looked at him with those wide, warm chocolate eyes, those eyes that made him want to drop his gun, leave his post and run to her. Surely Maria had understood when he had told her to stop.
Yes, he argued with himself as he placed the broken glasses back on his equally-broken nose, wincing when the cool metal met with his skin. This was all her fault - right?
Alfred remembers the once-sweet face twisting into a look of disgust when they met on the battlefield, and suddenly the sound of the gunshot sounds from that night in Manila rung heavily in his ears.
It wasn’t worth it.
A/N: I… ehrm… what was I on when I wrote this? T_T random icon is random
PS: Before I go off again, can someone teach me the best way to color knives and make blood spatters on Photoshop? (for another WIP about Piri and Vocaloids. Again.)
Characters/Pairings: for now, OC!Piri and America, US/PH
Rating: PG for some violent imagery.
Genre: It’s too dramatic to just be historical drama, not too angsty to be historical angst, and at some parts not too historical. What I’m sure of is that it isn’t a happy fic.
Warning: This is a preview for my WIP. A preview. And thus you will have to forgive the shortness of this.
Summary: A series of drabblets based on certain verses in Luka Megurine’s song "Just be friends". She always forgave and forgot, everybody who she once had unsavory relationships with were now her friends. But there are still those who want to be more than just her ‘friend’. For this part: Alfred regrets everything.
~
I thought of it yesterday after the dawn had passed
While I was gathering pieces of a broken glass
What is going on now with drops that my fingers allow
Is this really what our hearts decided to be last?
~"Just be Friends"
He fumbles around in the bloodied earth for his glasses, grunting as his finger catches on a broken edge. Blood trickles down like rain in London; and that alone was weird because he was America and he was a hero and heroes don’t get all weak and caked in blood like he felt now and-
-and most of all, heroes didn’t hurt their damsels in distress.
But - but he’d told her to stop. She understood, didn’t she? She had looked at him with those wide, warm chocolate eyes, those eyes that made him want to drop his gun, leave his post and run to her. Surely Maria had understood when he had told her to stop.
Yes, he argued with himself as he placed the broken glasses back on his equally-broken nose, wincing when the cool metal met with his skin. This was all her fault - right?
Alfred remembers the once-sweet face twisting into a look of disgust when they met on the battlefield, and suddenly the sound of the gunshot sounds from that night in Manila rung heavily in his ears.
It wasn’t worth it.
A/N: I… ehrm… what was I on when I wrote this? T_T random icon is random
PS: Before I go off again, can someone teach me the best way to color knives and make blood spatters on Photoshop? (for another WIP about Piri and Vocaloids. Again.)