Sorry, My Boyfriend is Just Kind Of Old-Fashioned [Hetalia England x reader]

Chapter 14- Burning

Kumquat Street was in flames.

Charlie and Maurs sputtered, coughing-- and tumbled out of their house. Maurs' asthma, particularly, was acting up. The fire came from (Name)'s house. Thankfully, her parents were out of town on a business trip-- and (Name) and Arthur were in England-- but it was a ghastly sight nonetheless.

The firefighters spray thick fumes of flame retardant and water over the sad building.

"What on earth caused this fire?"

"There was no one home."

"Gas leak? But we proofed it just a month ago."

In London, (Name) doubles over, falling, on the street where Queensbury used to be.

"Oh my God-- (Name)! What's wrong?" Arthur cries.

"I---"

The pain is as if her insides were burning up, tearing her guts into little pieces of paper and throwing them into the fire. A faint smell of smoke leaves her mouth. The pain is strongest on the left side of her chest, just about where her heart should be.

"Arthur-- I feel-- I'm burning!"

Arthur looks at (Name) frantically, helplessly. How could someone be burning? Then the phone rings. It's Charlie.

Arthur slides to respond on (Name's) phone. He's seen her do it a few times.

"Charlie!! Help! (Name) is unwell!" Arthur's panicked own face appears on the screen. He doesn't know how to use this.

"Unwell?! What do you mean?" The camera's panning jostles. (Name)'s bellow of pain resounds through the device and into the burning street. Arthur somehow manages to turn the camera towards her-- turning the whole phone-- and she speaks.

"Help... why?!"

"(Name), your house is also burning!" Charlie shouts. "Did anything happen between you and Arthur in England? Did you make any progress in getting him back??"

"What-- I--"

It was at that moment that you realized-- you had been foolish. You had fallen for him, and into an imaginative fantasy of the past, yet a second time. You should have known better after what happened with the dream of the ballroom.

But you were human.

You couldn't help but want Arthur and want him for yourself. Time could suck a cock.

The pain in your chest intensifies.

Suddenly, there is a shake, and a white crack appears, spreading, just under your feet and halfway through the street. In what used to be Queensbury, the smell of flames is everywhere-- and all the pain-- yet not a fire in sight.

By some fluke the other people in the street do not appear to see the crack, but they look around in worry. Where is the smell of charring flesh coming from?

Still doubled over and with Charlie on the line, you look down at the crack and at the shaking earth-- the tear in the earth's soul.

It's so white.

There.

It beckons Arthur back like a greedy mouth.

"(Name)-- I have to go!! It's me! This is likely the only chance I'll get!"

"No-- Arthur-- please-- don't-- go..."

"What am I supposed to do?" he says angrily. "Look at you! You're suffering. This-- us-- whatever this is-- it isn't sustainable!" There is roaring and sounds of burning and suddenly everything is so loud. Arthur has to scream to be heard above the noise of the rubble. It comes from the white crack and from (Name)'s phone screen.

"But I love you!" (Name) says.

"I do too. And it doesn't matter." Arthur responds. He takes a first step into the hole, and braces his heart.

"NO!" You attempt and fail to grab his legs, to keep him here with you. As Arthur falls the pain in your chest subsides and so do the sounds. All is quiet. Normal. Anesthetized.
Your chest twists into tiny knots as you break down in sobs. Tears touch the somehow-singed earth, hissing.

"Oh Arthur you selfless bastard! Oh Arthur..."

You kneel there for some time, ignoring the stares. Then, you pick yourself up, and begin walking towards the airport.