Hetalia One Shots

Do you regret it? - Denmark

prompt: "Do you even regret it?"

"I regret everything. Always have."

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"Do you even regret it?" he asked me. Icy blue eyes fervently searching mine for answers. I just sat there head in my hands... Do I regret it? Regret what? The shit I put him through. The endless words full of spite. The countless times I've lost my anger. 

Do I regret anything I did? 

Of course. I regretted every argument in which he'd look at me with eyes welling with tears. I regretted each and every time I laid hands on him. I regretted leading him astray from his school work. I regretted letting venomous words slip off my tongue and into his ears. 

I regretted blowing him off on multiple occasions. I regretted letting my friends make fun of him. I regretted breaking his stuff. I regretted every single action when I was with him. He was too good for me, too pure, too light hearted. I dragged him down into the abyss and let him drown. 

His grip on my hands was softer than I deserved, the gentle tone too forgiving. I regret putting him in this position. I don't want him to beg, I dont want him to forgive me. There's other things that I regret. I regret putting my mother through hell. I regret pushing away every friend that I ever had. 

I knew I've done something wrong because his eyes started to lose hope, started to lose their glimmer. I hated it. I hated that I caused him so much pain. I was numb. I was numb to any sadness that could've been lapping away at my heart in waves. It was like all the emotions came at once in a tsunami. Then nothing. It wasn't blissful, I just wanted to feel something. 

Anger, denial, sadness, happiness, excitement. I wanted to feel everything that would allow me to live a normal happy life. Instead it was this. Regretting everything but not feeling the weight that that word should've gave. 

"Do you even regret it?" he asked again, louder, words blurring with emotion. He was feeling them all for me, like he always did. He'd cry when I'd be upset, he'd be angry when I should've been. He's always been there for me but I wasn't there when he needed me most. 

The light was dying out and stars were slowly dotting the sky. I felt his warmth or was it my blood. I felt like there was static in my head and I could hear it getting louder and louder. Next thing I knew, I was being shaken violently. All the words I expected to hear from him finally pouring out. I heard the clinking of the many bottles and he stepped back into the mess behind me. That's it, yell at me. Make me feel something. I accepted it. I even wanted it. 

As I could see his figure blurring into the shadows, I finally let go. There was no more running from it, no longer holding onto the hope that I could fix it. 

Then... I woke up. Walls a bright white, too bright for my tired eyes. It was months before I could walk, weeks before I could talk. Each time I saw that stupid psychiatrist she asked me the same question. Do I even regret it? Every doctor, every person that visited asked me if I regretted it. I couldn't even remember what I needed to regret. 

I still felt numb when I learned how to walk again, I still felt numb when I was finally discharged from hospital. I still felt numb when everyone was happy to see me. I still felt numb when I saw him behind me, sitting on the bed. His figure was guarded. He stared at me, ocean blue eyes meeting mine. I then looked at myself. 

Scars marred my skin and bruises painted my body full of purples, blues and yellows. My hair matted and long and my icy blue eyes dull and lifeless. I still felt numb even though I didn't have every piece of me. I saw his lips move on his unfocused figure. I don't know why he was here. We broke up months ago. He was put off at the sight of missing limbs but I didn't care. I didn't care now that I was disfigured, I didn't even know my own reflection in the first place.

"Did you even regret it?" 

The question that has been plaguing my mind since the day everything ended up being too much. I regretted pushing him away, being angry at him. I regretted being mean to his younger brother. I regretted being horrible to my parents and brother. I hated myself. 

Do I regret not listening to my body when I had enough? Do I regret not seeing myself the way everyone else saw me? Do I regret giving up on him? Do I even feel regret. 

"Magnus, did you even regret it?" 

At this point he sounded irritated, maybe even mad at me. I just smiled as the tears rolled down my face. I had the final words and I felt like I was breaking. After the words left my mouth, rolling off of my tongue, I felt the waves inside of me crash and burn. 

"I regretted everything, Always have."