Alfred's moans filled the bedroom. It was a soft sound. Enjoyable. Such a different sound then what you normally heard out of the American. The loud laugh and voice. Arthur could grow to love-

No.

He had to stop thinking like that. He had spent lots of time and effort into courting the American. He did everything necessary to make the Alfred fall in love with him. He had planned it all. Planned this very moment for years. Alfred would feel what he had felt those many many years ago.

Revenge. That's all this was to him. Nothing more or less. He had no attachment to America. All his love had died in the rain that day. The boy whom he had raised. Who had been the apple of his eye betrayed him. Cut out his heart and broke away from him. He loved that boy. And he had left him. Started a war with him. And won that war! The betrayal of these actions hurt so terribly…

He'd return the feelings tenfold.

Emerald eyes watched the American squirm under him. Eventually hitting his climax. Covering himself with his own seed. The Englishman groaned thrusting in a few more times before finishing as well. He sighed contently. Slowly looking up at those crystal blue eyes.

Those sapphires… hazy and satisfied. They held a look that said without a doubt that the American loved the man above him. Alfred said it often enough these days. He said it back, but he never meant them. He held nothing but contempt for the American. Truly…

Alfred pushed himself up, leaning in to kiss Arthur gently. But England pulled away before America's lips could meet his skin. Arthur pulled out of Alfred and got off the bed. Earning a confused look from the younger nation.

"I'm sorry… did I do something wrong?" he watched the Englishman pick up his garments. Blue eyes growing more and more confused with each passing moment. This wasn't in the movies. They were supposed to lie back in bed and cuddle and whisper how much they loved each other...

"I've had better," Arthur stated. The first honest thing he'd told Alfred in a while.

America flinched hurt. "It was my first time… I'll get better."

"Hmm."

"I'm sorry." America looked down, embarrassed. "Y-You aren't going to stay?"

Arthur looked down at the American on the bed. His heart felt heavy. But why? He had been planning this for years. "No. I've taken what I wanted, I'm leaving now."

"Wh-what?" Alfred looked absolutely confused and sad. His blue eyes held a fear and panic that Arthur had never seen in them before. "What do you mean? I'm sorry, I said I'll get better. I love you Iggy, ple-"

"I don't love you Alfred."

The silence lasted for a moment as the American tried to grasp and process what was just said. His face contorted in absolute confusion.

"That's not true… you said-"

"I lied."

Arthur never talk his eyes off Alfred. He wanted to see what all his hard work had done. This is what he wanted. To break Alfred as Alfred had broken him.

"You lied… why… why would you? I don't…" Tears began to form in the corner of the American's eyes, his lip quivering slightly.

"Must you be so slow to grasp everything?" The Englishman scolded, exasperated that the American couldn't figure it out yet. It was best to spell it out for the lad then. "It was all a lie. Everything I did and said was to just get this, and that was it."

Large tears fell from the American's eyes. "You did all this… everything you ever said… and did… it was just so you could sleep with me?" The large tears left trails along Alfred's cheeks all the way down his face to his chin falling off onto the bed. They seemed endless. One after another. The sobs were starting as well. And try as he might Alfred could not suppress them.

"Now you know how I felt, when you left me in the rain, all those years ago."

Glassy blue eyes went wide. Shocked. That's what this was about? The American buried his face in his hands, sobs wracking his whole body as he cried. Devastation. The truth. That for all the love he thought he had, was a lie. And all the love he had given in return was for nothing. The sobs were growing more and more hysterical by the moment.

This is what Arthur had wanted right?

He didn't feel the satisfaction he thought he would.

Why was that?

He fastened the last button on his shirt, and turned to leave. His steps making no noise as they headed for the door. Carefully he gripped the doorknob to the bedroom. Turning to look at the American one last time before he left. A little surprised that he hadn't been stopped, or been told he was lying. But Alfred was always an idiot. The American had always believed everything that came out of the Englishman's mouth. It was how he had gotten Alfred to fall in love with him after all.

Emerald colored eyes looked over the sobbing American. Alfred was no longer holding back his sobs. Out right balling at this point. There were gasping sounds as he struggled to breath in-between his hysterics. It was just as he had imagined it would be. Yet the feeling was not the same.

"Happy Anniversary, Alfred."

Arthur stepped out slamming the bedroom door close and he ran. He didn't know why he ran, but he did. He ran down the steps and to the front door where his shoes and coat waited for him. He yanked open the front door and slammed it behind him.

He froze as a scream of agony and pain rang out from inside the house. It was drowned out by the loudest clap of thunder Arthur had ever heard. He flinched at the sound of it. The Brit rested against the front door. His emerald eyes wide.

All the while his mind was reminding him that this is what he wanted. This is what all his plotting had led up to. To make the American fall in love with him and then rip out his heart. Take everything he had to offer. An eye for an eye. The feelings of his betrayal back then during the revolution would be returned ten fold. Now America knew what it was like. Knew what he had felt. And wasn't it perfect? He had just taken the American too. Truly taking all he had. This is what he had wanted!

Arthur placed a hand over his eyes as the rain poured down around the house. Lightening flashing around him lighting up the dark area. And thunder booming from just over the house it sounded like.

Why didn't it feel like he had succeeded?

Why didn't it feel like he had gotten his revenge?

He felt tears falling from his eyes and he hated himself for them.

His heart was hurting so badly. This wasn't how it was supposed to be. He'd laugh and run off feeling victorious. His revenge finally complete.

He let out a muffled sob and bolted away from the house and into the rain. Running as fast as he could. He didn't understand. He had done it! He wanted to feel happy and celebrate back in London with a drink at his favorite pub in victory. But he didn't feel like doing any of those things. Well, he did feel like drinking, but not in any kind of victory.

The Englishman just kept running into that rainy night, not daring to look back.

A/N

I am full of angst and needed to finally put up this sad thing I wrote months ago for Valentines Day. Yeah. Valentines Day… :U But anyway I just wrote the last few sentences and then it was finished.

I want to continue this… but I don't. So I'll let other people decide. If you want it to go on just review and say MOAR, or something like that.

I believe that I'll just end up ruining an agsty fic by adding more to it. But whatevs. I'll do what the public demands… not that I need to start anymore hetalia fics… My bata will be like 8U Seriously? And I'll just tell her I have issues.

I only have her bata big projects. So if this is grammar fail it's my fault. Mah bad. But yeah, just let me know if you want more. And I'll see what I can do.