The Mind of Sir Arthur Kirkland (a hetalia fanfiction)

[5]

[Alterntively Titled: In Which France Cares For England And The UsUk Shippers Will Probably Become Mad and Start a Sh*t Storm In The Comments (please don't)]

"Francis, I thought I told you to stop calling me!" Arthur nearly yelled into the reciever. He had just gotten home and was not feeling the best once he had learnt about Ivan and Alfred spending time together.

"Ah, but you answered. That means you want to hear what I have to say." Francis said slyly.

"I- mmph, I just wanted the phone to stop ringing. It was annoying." Arthur told him. But France had been right.

"Oh really? Well-"

"Just tell me what you wanted to say already!"

"Fine. I was online, looking up some things, and I found a video and-"

"Is this weird porn again?"

"Not unless you want it to be."

"Just- keep speaking, please." Arthur said, trying to keep his cool.

"It talked about traits such as antisocial-ness, lack of empathy, selfishness, starting fires, poor impulse control, not admiting mistakes, staying up late, and short marriages."

"So?"

"You have some of those traits, Arthur."

"Oh yeah?"

"You've become antisocial, Alfred is your only friend. Besides me, that is. You seem to not care about us the way we do you. You've become selfish, keeping to yourself and not telling us what's wrong."

Arthur didn't know what to say, because Francis was right.

"What ab-bout the other ones, hm?"

"You stay up late, drinking I think. There's the poor control. Remember those witch burnings, back in the day?"

"Oh come on-"

"Those broken treaties, all those kings who killed their queens, or vise-versa. That's your past, they're you."

"Fine then. Say I have these traits. What are they traits of?"

"A psychopath."

There was a long pause between the two.

"No I'm not."

"I never said you were. But the fact that you are denying it, even though I never accused you of being one, would just prove it more-"

"No! I am sick and tired of all this! I am sleep deprived, and maybe I have been drinking, but I am certainly okay! Goodnight!" He yelled, hanging up suddenly. He said that mostly to try and convince himself more than Francis. But Francis was right.

Arthur looked into the mirror by the door. More freckles. Odd, it wasn't like he had been outside much. The occasional redish tinge to his hair appeared as well. He could have sworn his eyes had become a little bit more blue.

An odd sensation came over Arthur. The more he stared into his own eyes, the more he noticed things.

He saw the shadows under his eyes, the shadow of his body, the shadows creeping towards him, the shadows reaching out, the shadows that covered everything in pitch black darkness. He could hear the maniacal laughter in his skull, he fell to the ground, shivering in pain, his head was pounding. Images of meat, blood, the dead plagued his mind- no.

No shadows. No laughter. He wasn't laying in a heap on the ground. He was standing, looking at himself in the mirror by the door. He was alone. All alone. He needed someone.

He needed Alfred.