Survival of the fittest.
Mother Nature chooses the strongest, and eliminates the weak. Adaption is in the name of pure survival and a chance to live on.
If he wasn't careful, he'd be the one Mother Nature would claim in her cruel little game of life.
With her curvaceous legs, she sat regally across from him cross-legged, refusing to meet his gaze.
This didn't bother him in the least surprisingly. From all of the little shenanigans and tricks Natalya played on him throughout this lovely Friday day he could've spent sleeping, hadn't made him snap. Sure he was angry he had been tied up, and forced to answer stupid questions in nothing but his underwear. Despite this, he hasn't broken his promise.
He couldn't bring himself to be furious at her. As he ran down that hall just minutes ago, his promise pulsed through his veins, riddling his head with guilt
'There's a reason she's like this,'  he had thought. 'It's not her fault. She doesn't know what's she's doing.'
And as he sat in front of Natalya, he had to mouth the words to himself over and over as fear and anxiety threatened to topple over his fragile state of mind.
'This bitch is out of her mind!,' Alfred's instincts screamed demandingly at him. ' you did what you could, and she still hasn't changed! Just quit now!'
God, he hated himself for thinking that. All the madness and mind games made him shiver with pure anger, but now...he couldn't bring himself to be mad at her. The mocking smirks, the seductive touching, the violent outbreaks, it all didn't graze him as deeply as he thought it would.
Curling his hands into the pockets of his baggy sweater draped across his bare chest, America slowly brought his legs into a criss-cross position on his chair, shifting uncomfortably against the bandages wrapped endlessly across his tender thigh.
The two nations couldn't dare to speak a word. Who knew what Natalya was thinking of at this very moment.
With that little scene in the kitchen just moments ago, he would find it impossible to figure out this girl's mental patterns. One moment she was psycho, and the next she was quiet and yet gently sweet. And with that, she'd suddenly become feral yet again. He'd never be able to predict what would be coming next.
Alfred finally worked up the last of his courage and spoke. "U-Uhm I suggest-..."
He was cut off.
"Alfred I.."
The two fell back into the suffocating silence that filled the whole room.
His body shivered nonstop. He just worked up the courage to say something, and that voice of hers, just shut him down mentally. That voice. It was painful to him, like a knife to the thigh...literally. But...in its own enigmatic ways, her voice sounded like honey and gentle velvet cloth that could be delicately held in his hand and cloud his senses. Her voice was a sweet sickly siren's song. How could one be so intimidating, yet so god damn beautiful-
"America...I-I'm so sorry...".
That whisper was so innocent, so gentle, so harmless. This angelic voice came from the girl that literally threw a blade into his thigh, and strangle him on the kitchen floor. These two things countered completely with her soothing voice, almost like a wolf in sheep's clothing. You're ensnared in this lulling sense of safety, and she snaps her jaws straight through your neck. Despite this, he'd stay on his heels. He had learned enough about her in one single day. Her mentally unstable outbreaks, the toxic emotional patterns. She was her own little version of 'Jekyll and Hyde'.
His mouth was dry, his tongue sticking to the roof of his mouth. Words only failed him at this point. He couldn't watch his mouth if it saved his life. He was stuck, utterly trapped in a maze of his own panic. He hadn't been testing the waters correctly, and he ended up stuck in a chair. Nothing was coming up, no brilliant thoughts or revelations. Just complete utter confusion.
"Natty..." America finally began, the nape of his neck pooling with sweat, making the hairs on his back stand up.
"I-I t's okay...everyone makes mistakes..."
No it's not. None of this was okay. It wasn't okay how playful she got with that steak knife. It wasn't okay that she put him through all this shit. This was all complete bullshit! Blimey O'Reilly, his head was practically pounding through his skull.
"It's really not..." Belarus sighed, adjusting her posture against the chair, still assuring him she wasn't going to make eye contact with him anytime soon. No wonder. She knew that he was pissed.
"You're scared of me..." Alfred blurted out, suddenly feeling lightheaded. Oh for fucks sake was there no filter on his mouth?! God, the tables should be turned in this situation, he should be scared of her.
Natalya finally let those amethyst eyes meet his, practically devouring his eyesight. "Alfie- I mean America...no...no I could never be scared of you, I love you dearly."
His knees were weak, as his body quaked in pure agony. How much longer would he be kept under this word? I love you? No, she was simply confused.
"No, you're not in love with me. Natalya...you're just confused. Your brother just really messed you up. You don't love me, you love the idea of me."
And with that, he threw himself into the deep pit of his ever growing self hatred.
'Don't make this about yourself, you bastard,' Alfred thought intensively.
The subject at hand wasn't about the pathetic husk of a country he was, it was about her. Her plain-sighted abuse and dull lifeless eyes said it all. She had the bigger scars, so there was no point in comparing mental wounds. She saw needed more help then him. And she could be saved.
He couldn't be...
No one could save him from his pathetic and childish behavior. No one could save him from being a nobody in a face of noble and wonderful countries. He just couldn't change this about himself. So why? Why did Natalya force herself to see something in him? God, he was the burger loving, fantasy living, selfish hoarding country of America. And he forced this upon himself. He forced these expectations on himself. And he knew when the others laughed at him, they were always right. Why couldn't she just laugh along, huh? God damnit, she was dumber than she looked if she caught feelings for him. There were others...others who cared more about her then he did, and yet she settled with him.
With this...this pathetic man child? She really was that damaged if she sought out the first person who cares about her. God...she deserved better than this, and he knew from the bottom of his heart. And he tried. He tried to send these signals. He wasn't romantically interested in her. She had to move on.
Was he doing all of this...just to prove a point? To prove that "desperate times call for desperate needs"? Was all of this some sick muse to prove just how pathetically abused she was. How Russia taunted her and held a reward over her head like some dog? No...he wanted to help her.
No, he was selfish.
He was getting her off his back. He was sending her back to her cage of ice, back to her big brother.
No, he was going to free her. He saw the pain in her eyes, the longing for human contact.
But could he really do it, with all these conflicting feelings?
"Alfred...you're crying-"
A gentle tear hit his knuckle, his hands folded in his lap. He hardly had noticed that he began to cry. Another one followed this pattern.
A cold finger reached for his cheek, brushing the tear from his skin, sticking like dew to her pale skin.
God her hands were so cold. God how he couldn't stand it. We're they always this cold? Why though?
Her elegant finger traced his jaw line slowly and almost peacefully. It didn't feel seductive or demanding...it felt reassuring.
I hear you, I hear you. That's what it felt like. That someone raked back the layers of his personality and found the person he really was. A sad and confused boy. The two had hardly shared any words, but it felt they just communicated a longer and meaningful conversation. God, he could feel her words through that hand of hers, as it cupped his cheek gently. He wasn't ready to make eye contact, he wasn't ready for her to let his cheek go, he wasn't ready to speak. He just felt frozen in a point of time. And it felt calming. Like for the first time, in a long time...he knew everything was going to be okay.
—————————————————————-
She gently shivered against the wool blanket draped across her shoulders. It was a warm spring evening, yet she still felt cold. Her eyes followed Alfred's hand as he struck a match, and flicking it into the fire pit in front of them. The small flame kissed the bark of the wood, and roared gently to life. Bright orange flares of light licked Natalya's face, her cheeks flaring a gentle pink against the unfamiliar heat. Through the window of flames, she watched Alfred stand motionlessly on the other side of the pit, watching the fire consume the logs of wood. The light complimented his blue eyes, flaring brightly in his retinas.
She was still cold. The flames were nothing against her iceberg skin, cold from solitary wounds and meaningless years.
But she knew that she felt colder tonight. God, her thoughts wouldn't stop racing through her mind. Why? Why did he let her touch him? From all of her acts of love, he thrashed away, and screamed in fear. But he had melted against her touch in that moment, as if he were relieved. And those tears in his eyes.
She could feel so,etching different about him. Like he had transformed into a completely different person in front of her very eyes. And it scared her. Because behind that courageous smile, was a completely different man. It scared her to death.
And it hurt her. Was she holding onto this fake mask of a hero out of a fairy tale? No...she loved him through and through. He had always tried breaking through to her since 1991, but until now, she could understand why.
She was truly alone in this world. And after seeing that man underneath Alfred's skin, she knew it wasn't because he was some selfless and courageous human being.
It was because he was simply human. It was because he saw what was right in her heart. And in a strange way, she felt he could relate to it.
'That's absurd,' she thought to herself, watching Alfred snap sticks in his hands and feed them to the growing fire.
He was different than she thought. And that...only made him glow brother against the flames of her admiration. That moment when they touched just hours ago, her hand against his cheek, she could feel he wasn't perfect. He wasn't some hero ready to sweep her off her feet, though she dreamt of this day every chance she could. He was Alfred, not America.
Under her monotone face, she felt herself smile...
Her hands suddenly felt the warm presence of the flames, tickling her skin playfully. She retracted it back into her blanket, raw and unfamiliar to the foreign experience.
Her hands were warm. Her face and chest were too. She nuzzled against the wool blanket, curling her legs into the heap of warmth in her seat.
And with that, she flung her head up toward the sky, shimmering eyes meeting a bright horizon of stars. Her tears shined just as bright as those balls of gas millions of light years away.
"There's a really nice creek up here."
She lowered her gaze back to the American, who finally met her eyes. She swore, his eyes were glimmering this time.
"W-what..?" Natalya tattered, the wool blanket falling from her shoulders. Alfred suddenly looked sick to his stomach, as if he were to topple back over.
"I-I mean there's this really nice creek about a mile from my house...you know...we should go hike down there tomorrow, maybe have a picnic?"
Her eyes widened against the light of the flames.
"Like a date?"
She stopped herself, hiding her face in her hands. She couldn't help it. Her hunger and excitement battled against her sudden understanding.
She knew Alfred understood, because he proceeded to keep talking, as if he didn't hear it.
"You know...let's give this friend thing another try," he blurted out, his cheeks turning red, most likely from embarrassment.
How peculiar. Yet...sweet.
She couldn't manage to get any words out of her mouth, because she just sat there, shaking with confusion.
Another chance? After all of her attempts, he hadn't cracked.
He hadn't snapped like Russia would.
"Wha-what about the wager?" Natalya sighed, her cheeks flushing to a white against her already snowy pale skin.
"What? That if we hit it off being friends and go on that date? Uh...yeah sure I guess..."
Her body couldn't stop shaking no matter what she did. Another chance? Another chance for him to be hers?
For her...to finally feel something besides the cold?
She wasn't the only one shaking. The two quivered against the flames of climax, one waiting for the other to speak.
Balling his fists, Alfred took a step forward, and flung out his right hand, his hands clasped open.
"Let's be friends, a-alright?!" Alfred proclaimed, his arm shaking, his body shuddering. And in his eyes, she saw that hope. That hope for her to say yes. And perhaps...to warm up both of their cold souls. She felt like her limbs were glued in position, as her fingers convulsed into a fist. Not the aggressive kind, but the almost hopefully kind. The kind that told her that this time...this wouldn't go wrong. The blanket sliding completely off her body, she stood up from her chair, and clasped his hand.
His eyes shimmered in surprise. His hand was so warm...
Her hand was so warm...
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Author's Note:
Hey germs, I don't know if this really counts as a longer chapter, but I hope it's enough to satisfy for now.
Things have been incredibly hectic. My select orchestra trip to a Germany was canceled, and my high school has been shut down for two weeks because of COVID-19, and possibly even for the next month. With online school it's just really tricky, because it conflicts with projects and finals...
But yeah, despite having a really crappy cold and sleeping all day I managed to shit out this chapter. If it was confusing with all of these random new feelings and thoughts and maybe even plot holes, they will be filled, give me a break I'm sick and NO ITS NOT THE CORONAVIRUS. But I'm hoping to shoot out another chapter next week before online school starts up, then I gotta focus on that, and my mental health once again.
ANNOUNCMENT
I NEED IDEAS! Even if they're small little fluffy scene ideas for this fan fiction, I need some to fill some holes in my storyline. I don't mean I need big plot piece ideas, just smaller ideas that would be like cute or really deep and meaningful. Please don't hesitate, drop a comment!
Til next time
-Jameson