Fandom: Hetalia
Pairings: USUK/Russia x America
A/n: This is a snippet of a story I'm making~!
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September 1st, 3015
World War Three
*Folvesch, Russia
*Formerly known as London, England
America sat in the rain, tears streaming down his face. He let out a sob filled with agony as he held the love of his life in his arms, feeling his warmth slowly slip away.
"A-America..." Britain called out, and slowly caressed America's face. America looked down, tears still falling.
"Y-Yeah?" He managed to get out between sobs.
"G-give me one last kiss before I go..." The Brit said, a gentle smile on his face, which made America feel nostalgic. That smile is just like the one England gave him when he was a kid...
"O-okay."
America leaned down, eyes closed and gave his lover a gentle, but passionate kiss filled with his emotions, his feelings, and his love for him.
It was a picture perfect scene, two lovers in each others' embrace, the gentle meeting of lips, the rain relentlessly beating down, the commanding presence of the British Parliament and the Big Ben right behind, and the soft glow of the moonlight breaking through the dark, stormy clouds.
The two remained part of that scene until oxygen became scarce. They parted, and stared lovingly at each other's eyes.
"America.." England started, then coughed out blood. "I...I love you..." He whispered, the light going out of his eyes.
"Britain! Don't go! P-Please...I need you..." He said, tears falling on England's face.
England gave him that warm smile again.
"It's okay America, I'll always be here in your heart," he touched the said place, "always with you..." And like a candle in the wind, the light went out of his eyes.
America felt a piece of him disappear with it.
He let out a heartbroken scream, his anger, sadness, and depression reflecting. His scream echoed through the rain as he thought of how unfair the world is. A good man like England never should've died. He never was supposed to.
"Ah, so I see the Briton has died already," a voice behind him said. He looked around and found the source of all his current misery. Russia.
He threw a hateful glare at the country. Russia smiled back, a dark look in his eyes.
"About time don't you think?" The Russian kept his tone lighthearted, but let more than a lot of malice seep in. "He was always a useless country."
America stood up and spit in his face, his despair mixed with rage.
"Bullshit, Britain was one of the best countries out there, you just couldn't see that!"
The ruskie wiped his face with his scarf calmly, then grabbed the American by the collar. He stared straight at him, a childish, but chilling smile on his face.
"We don't want bad children now, do we?"
And those were the last words the despairing country heard before he blacked out.
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Do you think I should continue this? I mean, it's just a snippet and stuff...
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