“(Name)” Arthur looked into those beautiful (e/c) eyes he loved so much.
“Yes?” You smiled at Arthur.
“I love you.”
“I love you too Arthur.” You beamed at him, his lips drifting lightly across yours.
Arthur bit back tears. He had tried to stop the memories that overwhelmed him, but they just kept coming.
You twirled through the field, your white dress flowing out about you. You looked so happy.
Arthur chased after you, laughing.
“You can’t catch me!” you teased.
“Want to bet love?”
Arthur caught up to you and tackled you, pinning you under him. You laughed in pure delight. He picked a small flower and threaded it in your hair, wishing the moment would never end.
Arthur walked slowly over the dead autumn leaves, coming up on a low black gate. The wild flowers he carried rustled as he pushed through.
“It’s like a fairy tale.”
“What is, love?”
“Being with you.” You smiled at him, then turned away and bit your lip.
He cupped your face. He loved you so much.
Arthur threaded his way through the cold gray slabs of stone lying in the bed of brown leaves. A grave loomed in front of him, a small stone flower protruding from the top.
Here Lies (Name) (Last name), friend, love, light.
Tears rolled down Arthur’s cheeks as he bent down and set the flowers he’d been carrying down on your grave. He fell into a sitting position and sobbed, tears sprinkling his suit.
You had been the light of his life. He loved you like nothing else. You were his soul.
His last memory of you played in his mind.
“Do you trust me Arthur?”
“Of course I do.” Arthur turned to look at you.
“I love you so much.”
“I love you too.”
You smiled weakly at him.
Arthur watched you walk away, not knowing it would be the last time he saw you.
Two days after the random hit-and-run that had killed you, he had found a letter in his mailbox. It had contained a small slip of paper that read:
“I love you.”
Arthur closed his eyes. You were so young. There was so much you wanted to do.
He took the ring in his pocket out. He was going to give it you the day you had your accident. He dug a small hole in front of your headstone and set the ring in it. He scooped the dirt back into the hole.
“I love you (Name). Forever.”
You watched him from your hiding place behind a large oak.
“I love you too.” you whispered
But it had to be this way. You had been considering giving it all up for Arthur. That was before your identity had been compromised.
You had met with Germany, Japan, and a few others. You had spent the better part of two days discussing what to do. You thought about running, but they would find you, or worse, the ones you loved. At last reality hung over you. They would never stop. You had to die.
Germany had taken care of the funeral arrangements. He made sure you were seen going into the alley. He had pulled you into a doorway just before a masked Japan open-fired on the alley. Germany had also taken care of the reporters, and had provided a substitute body who looked enough like you that it wouldn’t be noticed that it wasn’t really you.
The hardest part of your fake death had been watching Arthur. He was so broken. You hoped one day he would find another woman who would make him happy.
Tears rolled down your cheeks as you watched Arthur walk away from your gravestone. But you couldn’t stay any longer. You had a plane to catch.
It had been a year since your faked death. You had traveled to Europe, and lived with Germany for a while, before moving on to live in Italy, then finally settling in Spain.
You owned a small flat in Seville, nothing too big. You kept as few possessions as possible in case they found you and you needed to run.
Warm air ran through your hair as you walked through the plaza. It was a gorgeous summer day, light glinting off the leaping water in the fountains. You passed an elderly couple sitting together on a bench. That could’ve been you.
You shook yourself and kept walking, spotting a figure on the next bench. He seemed incredibly familiar, his blonde hair reminding of you of Arthur. As you drew closer, the man turned towards you.
It had been a year since (Name)’s death. Some of my friends had finally gotten me to come out of the house. Little did I know that as soon as I exited the house I was to be shoved in a car, driven to the airport, and pushed onto a plane. Apparently I needed to get out and forget (Name). This was supposed to help.
So that was I had come to be in the middle of Seville, completely lost. There was a bench nearby, so I headed for it, running my hand through my hair. I plopped down onto the bench and sighed.
The depression was the worst part. It had been getting better recently, and almost non-existent these past few days. Spain was keeping me busy, which was something I sorely needed.
I turned my head to look up the plaza, and my gaze fell on a painfully familiar face.
She looked just as I remembered. Her (h/l), (h/c) hair flared out slightly behind her in the wind, her white dress flowing lazily. She wore black espadrilles and had a dark shawl wrapped loosely around her shoulders.
She stopped dead in her tracks, her eyes widening.
You wanted to run, to hide. Anything but this.
“Is it really you?” Arthur was now walking slowly towards you. You were frozen.
Arthur was now in front of you.
Arthur pulled you into a tight hug and whirled you around. He set you down lightly, then pulled you down to the bench.
“But, you died.”
“We shouldn’t talk about this here. Come one.”
You went back to your flat, and as soon as you were inside, Arthur started launching questions at you.
“Arthur, calm down. One question at the time. Want some tea?”
Arthur nodded and followed you into the kitchen. After you set some water to boil, you turned to the Englishman. He took it as his cue.
“I thought you’d died.”
“I had to fake my own death.”
“I was in danger.”
Arthur took a breath. He couldn’t believe this was happening.
Arthur looked at you, waiting for you to elaborate. In the following silence, the weight
of what you had done struck him.
“You lied to me.” He said it so quietly you almost didn’t hear it. Almost.
“No. You lied to me. You know what kind of pain I went through when I thought you’d died?
I wanted to marry you, to spend my entire life with you. “
“I couldn’t put you in that kind of danger. It was the only way.”
“No, you could have talked to me. If you still had to do this, I could’ve helped, and we could’ve run away together. We could have lived here together.”
“I was trying to protect you.”
“By making me suffer that way? I cried for months. I wouldn’t leave the house. I relived every memory I had of you hundreds of times. I wanted to die to be with you.” He added the last part on a whisper.
Tears began to stream down your face. All of the emotion you had bottled up over the past year came pouring out all at once. You shook, crying for fear, love, regret. You couldn’t stop.
It was then Arthur saw how hard it had been for you as well. The constant fear of being found, losing him, putting him through all of that, you broke down in front of him. He pulled you into a hug, letting you cry against his chest.
You sniffled and looked up at Arthur. He looked just like he had when you’d left. He even smelled the same. There was so much love in his eyes as he looked down at you, his face moving closer to yours.
You felt his soft lips press gently into yours. You leaned into him. You had forgotten what it was like to kiss someone you loved as much as you loved Arthur. It was wonderful.
You broke apart, and he gently wiped the tears from your cheeks, a sad smile gracing his
A frantic knock sounded at your door.