What It Means To Love - UkUs

BreakUp

Warning: this story contains mature scenes, so read at your own expense! Also, Hetalia does not belong to me.

Enjoy!

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England sighed once again at America's antics on their supposed 'date'. As usual, instead of ordering some lobster, lamb chops, or for god sakes even a salad - the git of course ordered hamburgers with a side of fries, nuggets, and coke. He wasn't even aware that junk was served here! But no, that wasn't even the worst part. They were currently at Olive Garden, and England had the decency to wear a brand new suit that was especially tailored. However, Alfred thought it would be a splendid idea to show up to their five year anniversary in jeans, a Captain America T-shirt and a ratted pair of sneakers.

His behavior was no better...

"And it took forever, but I finally beat Japan's high score in Black Ops! The look on his face when that happened was priceless! Oh you should have been there, Iggy." America laughed, slamming his hand on the table repeatedly. Due to his strength, the plates, cups, and silverware all rattled with each hit.

England looked at the disapproving glares from the other diners, and frowned. "America, please refrain from being... You. Your already embarrassing me enough as it is."

A brief moment of hurt crossed America's features, but quickly changed into a weak smile. "I'm sorry Artie."

"And don't call me that." England sighed.

Arthur then focused on the American silently returning to his greasy burger, and wondered if this is what he really wanted.. There was no doubt in his heart that he loved the man across from him, but lately, the nation made it hard for him to be sure about that.

To put it simply, it was like he was dating a child. He constantly had to force Alfred to do his job as a country, show up on time to meetings, eat healthy, and dress appropriately. On top of that, the man just didn't have any sex appeal. Now Arthur wasn't egotistical, but he liked having someone he could show off: someone who had - as Americans would put it - game. And honestly, America could have at least put some effort in preparing for such a special occasion.

"You know, you could have dressed more professional for our date. Why would you come dressed like that?" There, England said what he wanted to say.

"What's wrong with what I'm wearing?" America asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Look around, do you not see where you're at? You look, how should I say this, out of place."

"Out of place? Iggy, I'm here with you. I don't care what other people think of me, as long as we're together... Are you telling me I'm making you uncomfortable?" Alfred asked, hesitantly.

England took one look at the crumbs on Alfred's Captain America shirt, and delicately grabbed his cup. There was an awkward pause as Arthur slowly drank his Earl Gray Tea. He then placed the cup down, and let out a contented sigh. Alfred waited with anxious anticipation.

"Yes, you are making me uncomfortable with your lack of fashion sense and proper table antiquities. Not only that, your loud, outrageous stories have embarrassed me all night long." Arthur ignored the broken look on America's face as he spoke his final thought. "Sometimes, I wonder how we're still together."

At this point, an uncomfortable silence passed through them. Alfred looked down, and England could see his shoulders trembling and his fists shaking. Sure, it was harsh, but England just needed a break. He wanted more than what America offered him: he couldn't pretend that he was happy with their relationship. Tonight was just the final push he needed to do it.

"America, you know I love you. But I think we sho--"

"No! Don't you say it!" America cried, tears falling like waterfalls. He was standing up and gripping the edge of the table for dear life. "Don't you dare! Do you know how long I've waited for you? How happy I am with you!? Please, don't do this!"

England had to look the other way. The one thing he could not handle when it came to America, were his tears. The chattering in the restaurant came to a full stop at America's outburst, and all eyes were on them.

"I'm sor--"

"Look at me in the face. If your serious, then look at me."

England reluctantly turned his head, and stared at the heartbroken expression on Alfred's face. His blue eyes were red from the amount of tears that spilled, his lips were quivering, and his shoulders were sagged. America was waiting for England to speak.

England forced himself to collect his bearings. This was for the best. They simply couldn't continue this charade.

"... It's over."

As soon as those words left his mouth, America grabbed his coke and threw the drink at England. England was stunned, and stood up in surprise as the sticky liquid dripped from his hair onto his suit to the floor.

"Fuck you." Alfred said. Arthur couldn't read the Americans poker face, but didn't have to as the nation turned and walked out of the restaurant.

Even with Alfred gone, no one dared to speak. England stayed still even as he felt the coke already drying, the sticky substance hardening in his hair and further staining his suit. He knew it was for the best, but that didn't mean it was easy for him. Finally, a waiter came to him and offered a towel. England graciously agreed, and the silence ended as everyone began talking to themselves - most likely about the show they just witnessed.

With no other reason to stay, Arthur paid the bill and left.

~•~•~

England walked out of his bathroom with a towel wrapped around his waist after a nice, long shower. He grabbed another towel from his bed and dried the remaining water from his hair.

Before he could grab his clothes to change, a knock on the door grabbed his attention. Already knowing who it was, he strolled to the front door and opened it.

"Oh Angleterre, what a pleasent surprize to see you like zis." France purred. His eyes were roaming England's body with a certain hunger.

"If your done drooling, you can come in already frog." England said.

Francis didn't need to be told twice, he rushed inside the house and made himself comfortable on the couch. England closed the door, and walked over to the fellow nation. He teasingly sat beside France, and made sure to have his thigh touch his. France's breath hitched, and his body turned hot.

"Angleterre, I'm 'appy you called me over... But aren't you dating America?" France asked.

England scoffed. "Forget about that git: Tonight, it's you and me. Don't you want to?" Arthur leaned over Francis and pinned him into the couch. He kissed his neck tenderly, and nipped at it before talking again. "I know you've dreamt of this, having me claim you once again."

"I 'ave, but Amer--"

Arthur bit his neck this time, earning a loud moan from the French nation. He continued, and soon left a nice-sized hickey. "Don't say his name, frog."

He nodded.

France is alright. He knows the proper etiquette for dating. Sure, he wasn't going to take him seriously, but France already knew this. The frog knows he is only a rebound, and he seemed perfectly fine with it. America was the one relationship he took seriously, and obviously that didn't work out.

With France under him, all of the trivial things just seemed unimportant. England just needed a break, and he was going to enjoy every second of it.