GerUk/GerEng Collection

What About Us Part 2

     I don't get a response for days. By Friday I have given up hope of a response.

     "I'm sure the reply is on its way Angleterre," the frog reassures me. I must really be desperate to turn to the frog for support. "He loves you. So much. I don't think- no -I know that... everything that has happened hasn't changed that." I just roll my eyes.

     "Trust me, I've been trying to convince myself that," I retort.

     "Well, sometimes it is better to hear it from another person."

     "Well, it didn't work!"

     I hear France sigh dramatically on the other end. "You are hopeless sometimes. Both of you."

     "God! I don't know why I even talk to you."

     "Honestly, neither do I. And don't even know why I try to help you when you get like this." I can feel my face getting hot. I slam the phone back down, hang up on him. I feel my hand sting at the action

     "I don't need any of this now," I grumble, cradling my now aching hand. I drag myself over to my chair, hoping to distract myself with some Stuart Little. As I read, my mind wanders to thoughts of Germany. Perhaps France was right. Perhaps Germany hasn't got my letter yet. Perhaps a reply was on its way. Or perhaps he never wants to see me again. So much for a distraction. I toss my book onto the side table, finding it pointless to read at this moment.

     Lucky for me, my wallowing is interrupted by a knock at the door. Not expecting anyone, I peek through the peephole of the door to discover a familiar blond hair man. It was him. He looked so much thinner and his hair was an absolute mess, but it was still him. I throw open the door so we can (finally) stand face to face.

     "Lo-Germany..." I whisper, not fully believe he is here. He remained silent. "Why don't you come inside, it looks like rain." Despite his silence and distant air, he agrees.

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     An hour passes and neither of us dares speak. I occasionally glance his way, but it appears he is not doing the same. The sinking feeling from earlier has returned, making me feel physically sick. I pull myself off the couch and say "I'm sorry Germany...I just... need a drink. Are you thirsty?" He gives a small nod, and I head to the kitchen.

     The water did not get any conversation going (not that I had hoped it would), it only aroused a small "thank you." After ten more minutes of silence, I finally break,

     "What the hell is wrong with you? First, you do not reply to my letters! Then you show up at my front door unannounced! And now you won't even talk to me!" Perhaps that was a little harsh. I got his attention though. Although I do feel somewhat guilty for my outburst, my chest and eyes burn from pain and rage. I do not realize the tears that begin to fall, but Germany does. I feel his hand graze my cheek, turning my attention to him.

     Germany speaks softly, "I'm so sorry for being so quiet, I'm so sorry for no reply, I'm sorry for the stupid war, I'm sorry for the pain I caused you then and the pain I cause you now," Germany takes a deep breath, "and I'm sorry for everything." I feel my anger subside as I lean into his touch, having missed this intimacy.

     "I'm still a little upset with you for the lack of reply in these recent times, but please do not speak of the war," I lean into his side, "at least not yet."

     "As you wish, but how I would like to make it up to you for avoiding your letters."

     "Oh, so you were avoiding them?" I say, giving him a smirk.

     "Well...I...I felt..." His face goes red as he struggles for the right words.

     "I am only teasing love. Although, I am curious about how you plan on making it up to me."

     He gives me a small smile, "how about I show you." And with that, he leans in and presses our lips together.

Author's Note: Sorry for being gone for about a month, my life got busy with an online course so I had like no time to write. Anyway I hope you enjoyed and thank you everyone for reading!