Things Unsaid preview

It was late.  By all means, Arthur should have been asleep already.  But there was one thought that kept tumbling around in his head, coming back to the surface again and again no matter how much he tried to scrunch it down.

Darn that Alfred.

Arthur rolled over on his bed so he was facing the ceiling. He wiped his bangs off his forehead, ran his fingers back though his short blond hair as he let out an exasperated sigh.  Honestly, what had gotten into that boy since that day so long ago?  Over two hundred years had passed and the boy still didn't seem to be any brighter than when he was a newborn.  In fact, Arthur had so much preferred Alfred when he had still been so young, when he would follow Arthur around like his shadow, when Arthur had been the most important thing in his life…

Arthur let out another sigh.  He had been bringing up these bad memories more and more lately, even though all he wanted to do was rip them out of his mind, throw them in a chest, lock it, and throw the chest into the depths of the sea.  Ah the sea.  Maybe that could help calm his racing mind.

He threw off the covers and sat up, turning on the light and blinking at the sudden brightness.  Then he got up and went to open his window.  Ah, the cool sea air at night.  If only I could be back on the sea again, going wherever I wished, doing whatever I pleased… Maybe then Alfred would finally stop tormenting his mind.  The bad thing about being the personification of a country was, you had a long memory.  And those memories did not like to fade with time. No, instead they stayed as vivid as if they had just happened the day before, as if Alfred had only just now launched his attack on Arthur…

No.  No.  He wasn't going to think about these things anymore.  The Revolution was over and done with.  Lingering on old memories wouldn't, couldn't change the past.  But try as he might, he couldn't hold back the force of the memories that yearned to be played over in his mind.  Sighing for the third time in under five minutes, Arthur leaned against the windowsill, laying his head on his arms that were spread on the edge.  It was no use after all, huh?  He slowly closed his eyes, his long lashes brushing against his arm.  And he braced himself, waiting for the emotions to overpower him like they always did, even after so much time.  But strangely, this time, unlike all the times before, it was not an old memory that he visited in his mind's eye, but a much more recent one.  Why, in fact, this had only happened a few days ago, why would this come up now…

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"Iggy!"

Arthur turned around and sighed as he saw Alfred tearing down the hallway towards him.  What did that git want now?

"Alfred, I told you to stop calling me that infernal nickname."

The man in question pouted.  "Aw, c'mon, don't be like that!  You know you like it!"

"I have never once been pleased by you using such a stupid name for me."

"Whatever.  Say, aren't you coming back to the meeting? Ludwig says we need you back for the next discussion!"

Arthur leaned against the wall. "It depends, in all honesty.  Is that stupid git Francis still acting crazy?"

"What are you talking about?  He's acting like normal."

"That is exactly my point."

"C'mon, Iggy!" Alfred pulled on the older man's arm.  "Stop acting so stubborn and come back to the meeting!  I need you to be there while I give my speech!"

"Stop it, you git."  Arthur yanked his arm out of the man's grip and glared at him.  "I just needed a breather from that madness in there; I will be back in just a few minutes.  What do you care if I'm there, anyways?"

"Because I'm totally the hero, so everyone has to listen to me!"

"Alfred, nobody is going to agree with that stupid plan to replace police officers with gun-wielding robots."

"But it's an awesome plan!  It could totally work!"

Arthur shook his head.  "Honestly, I cannot believe that I raised you, with you acting like this all the time.  What on earth happened to all that culture that I gave you?"

"Psh, Iggy, you were a total buzz kill back then!  And your culture sucks."

"Stop bloody calling me that!" Arthur snapped.  "And besides, what would you know culture?  You obviously didn't learn much."

"Hey hey hey, at least my culture didn't involve constantly taxing people until they revolted!"

"Alfred…" Arthur warned.

"I mean, seriously, what the heck was with that back then, anyways?"

"Alfred!" Arthur's hands clenched into fists, his anger rising.

"What?  Is something wrong, Iggy?" Alfred seemed surprised that Arthur was getting angry.

"For the last time, STOP BLOODY CALLING ME THAT!" Arthur roared into Alfred's bewildered face.  He turned around sharply and marched down the hallway, leaving behind the stunned America and going out of the building rather than back to the conference room.

That bloody git.  How dare he bring that topic up as if it meant nothing.  Does it mean nothing to him?  How can it not, when it still pains me every time?

Before Arthur knew it, he was out in the parking lot, next to his car.  I really ought to go back to the conference… Regardless, without another thought, he fished his keys out of his back right pocket and unlocked the car, and then he slid himself into the driver's seat, which was, of course, on the right-hand side where it ought to be.  After putting the keys into the ignition, he flipped through his CD collection, pulled out a Beatles CD, and popped it in the slot to play.  Maybe some music would help calm him down.  Honestly, his nerves had been so frayed lately, what with all the back-to-back meetings and all.  There was only so much a gentleman like himself could take of the loud-mouthed American, Alfred, and the French man who molested anything that moved, Francis, before being driven mad.  Not to mention having to handle the rest of the batty bunch of nations that all had to attend the World Conferences regularly as well.

Honestly, was he the only sane one of the bunch?

Arthur drove the car out of the parking lot and headed for his house.

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