Hello and good to see you, reader! Apple Fairy here!

Here's the second chapter! Sorry it took so long to write, orz. This is mostly a chapter to establish the setting and characters, so I hope it's okay. Also we're switching the POV to first person, from Kiku's POV and the fic will remain this way.

Thanks for reading! Hope you like the fic!

DISCLAIMER: I do not own Hetalia

Withering Snowdrops

Story by Apple Fairy

-Reports say that troops are advancing on Eastern Europe-

Sometimes I feel as if I've already died.

-In other news, the strange epidemic of this mystery disease continues to spread towards Asia-

As if my body is light, and I can't feel my limbs. I feel paralyzed.

-Doctors say they are close to a breakthrough-

Sometimes my heart aches and that's when I get scared the most. However with how things are going now I wonder if I've already reached hell.

-Kiku?-

Hello. My name is Honda Kiku and I've already reached hell. It's too late, there's no way to save me. I've had reservations for this place for years now. See, some people are destined to become great things. Some people are destined to be failures.

-Kiku?-

I'm destined to die.

-Kiku!-

I woke up in a shock. Quickly looking to the side, I could see the concerned face of my young sister, Mei. Her hand was on my shoulder, and I realized I had been sleeping.

"Are you alright?" She asked, worried. "You were sweating in your sleep."

I noticed then how ragged my breath was and nodded. Trying to calm my heart, I could also see my other siblings behind her. The eldest, Yao, our youngest Xiao. They both looked at me somewhat troubled, and this pleased me. I'm going to be blunt: I hated it when my family smiled at me. I've seen it so many times now, and it's all I ever see and I'm so sick of it. It disgusted me.

"I'm fine." I reassured her, and sat up (my limbs ached, they always did) "I'm fine now; it's okay."

Yao and Mei smiled then, and Xiao's face softened. I hated this, but it'd be terrible if I did not give them some piece of mind. I heard voices in the background, something with static, and turned to see the source. The TV in the hospital room was turned on, the news blaring. Ah, so that's what I heard in my dream. Swiftly, Yao strode over, turning it off, just as another image of the war front flashed onscreen.

"Honestly, who would leave this on as the patients are sleeping…" He grumbled.

"New roommate?"

My attention turned to Xiao who looked to the bed next to mine, where someone else laid asleep.

"Feliciano," I told him, "He's been struck with that strange disease that's been going around."

"Another one? You think they'd come up with a cure by now." Yao sighed. My older brother was a person full of sighs and stress; I'm not surprised either, seeing as he's the only one raising us.

I found my younger sister smiling at me again. With her long hair and sparkling eyes, wearing her school uniform, for a moment I wondered if she was popular. She's grown up so much since I've left home. I wanted to smile in return, but didn't.

"How have you been?" she asked gently. It was at that moment I wanted to tell her that I didn't feel well at all. I just feel off. Like I'm a crooked painting, and something felt hollow in me. But I knew the sort of problems that would arise from such a confession and only shrugged.

"Well enough."

I wished I could smile then. Even a fake one would suffice. Yet, no matter how hard I wished I could, I couldn't. I could never bring myself to smile. Mei smiled for me though, (she was such a pretty girl, always smiling) and that would have to do. In the background I could see Xiao reaching into his own school bag, pulling something out. Upon seeing what it was, suddenly my heart lit up.

"I-Is that…?"

"The next volume. I got it for you." He grinned, waving the manga like it was a prize, "You won't believe what happens in this one."

"Please don't spoil!"

Just like that, all suffocating words and feelings fell away. Or perhaps they were just buried, and only the smallest of things could chip away at the surface until it was back again. It's off and on and it's more so like this is only a distraction. But as I spoke with my family, and caught up with their lives, I tried to latch onto this distraction nonetheless. It's all I had and what I needed. Yet, just as I was done hearing about the latest movie Mei had seen with her friends, how my dog Pochi was doing back home (the very same dog I had and loved since I was a preteen), suddenly Yao spoke. With a concerned voice, sitting at the side of my bed.

"By the way, I heard something strange from your doctor."

Instantly, I froze up.

"We got a phone call yesterday."

I gulped, but tried to mask my feelings. Which I noticed wasn't dread, but excitement. Like I'd been looking forward to this talk, a matter I've only realized now. Finally, something serious and dark to talk about. I must be quite twisted for I'm sure no one thinks like this.

"What…What was it about?" I asked, playing dumb. Seeing my older brother's sullen face gave me chills, like I was a child being taken to an amusement park.

"They said they found you on the roof yesterday."

Yes, I thought. Yes.

Finally, finally, we can talk about this. Finally, yes, finally. However, as I was thinking this, giddy with the thought, I noticed his face…soften. And he smiled. Smiled that smile I was so sick of.

"Kiku, if you want some fresh air, just ask. Don't worry about troubling others. I'll talk to your doctor about it, alright?"

No.

No, no, no, no, no.

That's not it, I wanted to scream. That's not it, stop trying to cover it up. Don't try to make this better. I'm so sick of that. Why do you always do this, why, why, why, why?

I pictured Yong Soo in my mind then. My second younger brother. The one who couldn't be here, and suddenly I wanted him back. I knew that was impossible though, and instead had to repress my urge to scream. Instead I looked downward, to my clasped hands in front of me, acting the perfect, bashful brother.

"…Thank you. I'm sorry to be a burden."

"You're not a burden at all."

That's a god-forsaken lie and we both know it.

It's then I noticed something.

The letter. My suicide letter.

Where had it gone?

I clearly remember writing it, and I know I left it on my shoes. How did they not find it? Speaking more to my siblings, it was something that nagged me in the back of my mind. Dredging up the memories of that time, it's then I remembered something else. Something I had tried to shake off and forget, but couldn't.

The angel. The angel and his beautiful eyes and scathing words.

"You're going to die soon."

When I had heard those words, I had almost wanted to laugh bitterly in his face. Like I didn't know that already? I was diagnosed with this illness at the age of nineteen. I know how long I have to live, it's a number that looms over me day after day. He wasn't telling me anything new. However…

It's not what he had to say that surprised me. It's his very existence. I wondered if I had only dreamt the whole scenario. But if Yao really had gotten a phone call about my strange behavior, then that really did happen. Maybe I had been hallucinating? I mean, an angel falling from the sky? I consider myself a sensible person, who doesn't believe in the occult or miracles, or anything of the sort. So, with that in mind, that very event…did it really happen?

"Are you leaving?"

Yao had spoken to my doctor. I was present the whole while as they talked, and behind Dr. Edelstein his tea set had sat prettily, shining in the light, on his desk. I had focused on its image the whole time, studying the curves of the snowdrop pattern on it, knowing my input wasn't needed. I was only a patient, and I felt like a decoration, but that wasn't a feeling that was anything new. Although it was my own health they talked about, I had no say in the matter. Which was fine, I supposed, for my brother got me permission. Dr. Edelstein had been reluctant but Yao had always been a good negotiator, and we got the okay. As long as I told someone beforehand, left during certain hours, and went to allowed places, I was allowed to get some fresh air each day.

At this moment, Feliciano (a young, handsome Italian man) looked at me, curious, his finger on the remote, watching TV. I nodded at his question. "Yes, I'll be right back."

"Be safe!"

"Yes, yes."

He was a nice person. I liked him. But those thoughts faded away as I walked through the halls, and knew where I was going. Holding my cardigan closer to me, I wondered for a moment if I've gone crazy. That day I was supposed to jump; had I gone crazy? I wanted to reassure myself I hadn't; I have enough to deal with considering my health. What I had seen that day, I wished to disprove it; Angels don't exist. Ghosts and anything supernatural, I don't believe in any of these things. So, what happened on the roof that day, I don't believe it happened at all.

I wanted to reassure myself it never happened.

I walked up the stairwell with shaky legs (still not in the best of health; I've gotten so scrawny and weak), and braced myself for whatever would be on the roof. I told myself there would be nothing, I had only imagined the event, there was no such thing as angels. What I had seen (or, rather, what only I could see) didn't happen at all. I would go up to a bare roof, and forget any of that ever happened. So as I opened the heavy door to the rooftop, a sudden gust of wind pushing against me, I saw nothing. Only the skyline and the city, heard the bustling of people and nothing else. I stepped out, letting the door swing shut behind me, a loud clang filling the air.

Then, silence.

There was nothing.

I almost breathed a sigh of relief, the air chilly despite my cardigan. I considered going back inside, peaceful with the fact that I was not insane at all, and to just continue on with my life. However, at that moment, a voice spoke behind me.

"Looking for me?"

I froze up. No. No, no, no. Perhaps it was the wind. Perhaps I was hearing things. Slowly as I turned around, I dearly hoped there would be nothing there. Yet, there, on the highest point of the roof, sitting above the door I had just entered through, he smiled at me.

Mockingly. As if I was nothing.

I'm still stricken by those bright green eyes.

"Hullo." He grinned, "Fancy seeing you here."

He's real.

It was the only thought that resonated in my mind. He's real, he's real, he's real. He looked the same as the first day I saw him, wearing a white toga, his wings spread behind him, and he looked down at me, smiling a wicked smile. I felt like I was going to faint, so many questions I wanted to ask, I wanted to scream. Turning around fully, feeling dizzy, I said the first thing that came to mind.

"Are you…Are you an angel of death? Here for me?"

His eyebrows rose. Surprised. Like he wasn't expecting me to talk at all. For a moment I wonder if he'd just disappear, like I really had hallucinated and there was no way it could respond to me. The angel looked at me incredulous though, amused, like I was stupid.

"Is that what you think?"

"I-It is."

Why else would you be here? I wondered, trying to grasp ahold of this bizarre situation, trying to reason with it so I could finally understand. He sat back on his palms, tilting his head to the side.

"You humans sure are self-centered, aren't you?"

It's then I realized how much he irritated me as well. I've never been so annoyed with someone so much. I hated how he spoke and how he looked at me, and surely I wouldn't hallucinate something so infuriating and insufferable. The sheer abnormality of this moment was lost then, my wariness dulled by his attitude. Any sort of effect he had on me, with his strange existence, it was all lost on me. I glared at him, but the angel reached behind him, and threw something at me. It landed at my feet.

"You can have this back, by the way."

It was a letter. Quickly picking it up, so the wind would not carry it away, I looked at it in more detail. At that moment I really wanted to thrash him, seeing what it was.

My suicide letter. The one they never found.

"You're the one that took it!" I yelled, piecing two and two together. He shrugged, and his indifference only angered me more.

"I am."

"This is very personal!" I explained, as if my words could get through to him, "How dare you!"

"Wouldn't a big ruckus have been made if that'd been found, though?"

"What?"

"If your doctor and nurse had found it."

I considered this scenario. If things had gone differently; If they had indeed found my note, found me before I was able to even commit the act.

"You wouldn't even be here if it wasn't for me." He explained further, and he was right. I wouldn't be able to have this much freedom, and I couldn't even begin to imagine what would've happened. Looking up to him, his expression was dull, like he was bored. He always seemed bored, and I wondered what he was even doing here. "You should be thanking me."

I almost wanted to laugh at his statement. Looking down to the letter, I noticed it seemed untouched for the most part. He hadn't read it; I could at least find solace in that. Another gust of wind pushed against us, as a moment settled in. Quiet, unmoving, and I looked back up to him.

"…I thought angels were kind."

I've been told my anger is the type of anger that is passive and subtle but biting. It boils under the surface for a time, and it takes something minor but significant to set it off. Yao has told me that my anger is scary in the way that it's underhanded. I remember him laughing as he said this; a light hearted memory from so long ago.

Recalling that now, however, I wonder if that was still true. For now, my insult was mean and still underhanded. Yet looking at the angel, he didn't seem scared or hurt.

(I wondered if he had a name then.)

He was still for a moment, eyebrows slightly raised. He leaned his head to the side, sizing me up.

"…Let me tell you something, Kiku."

I hated the way he said my name and it sent shivers up my spine.

"Everything you 'know' about angels; banish the thought now."

His voice is low, as he says this, and my heart is pounding now. Hard and fast, and I noticed him getting up, from his perch. And he smiles at me.

He smiles and it gives me goose-bumps. Quickly, the angel jumps and with a fast beating of wings, hovers in front of me. His face is only inches from mine and his smile has widened.

I am lost in those green eyes.

"We're nothing like they say in the stories." He tells me (almost threatens me) and my body stiffens.

At that moment I know this man is not human, he is beyond my comprehension, and fear blossoms in my heart. Suddenly I'm afraid, so very afraid, and I wanted to squeeze my eyes shut. I wanted to open them and wake up from this dream. His wings beat again, and the gust from them flows past me. I'm not dreaming, and I feel like I'm going to faint.

"Then…" my voice is shaky, as I weakly hold my suicide letter to my chest, "…then why are you here?"

The world howls again, and it's only my clothes that move with the wind. He stays where he is, his gaze boring into me. His smile drops away, and his face is suddenly serious.

"…That's classified. I've been sent here on a mission. I can't explain the details."

"Sent on a mission from who?"

"You ask a lot of questions, don't you?"

I couldn't say anything to that.

He floated down then, and finally we were on the same level. I noticed he was still taller than me, face boyish, and his frame lean. My heart had settled down, and I couldn't help myself but ask questions; in this strange situation what else could I do?

"…You're sure I'm the only one that can see you?"

"That's right. Because you're going to die soon."

If he wanted to see a response out of me from that line, he was out of luck. I ignored it and frowned, looking away.

"…Then what am I supposed to do with this knowledge?" I asked, "What am I supposed to do in this situation?"

Clearly, no one would believe me if I told them about an angel on the hospital roof. If I confessed this fact to anyone they'd think of me as crazy, or having gone insane. (I wouldn't blame them; I'm still trying to convince myself I'm not.) So in this bizarre moment, with this strange person, what was I to do? Looking back at him, I could see the angel rubbing the back of his neck as he tried to think on it too.

"Come see me then."

I almost couldn't believe what he'd said.

"What?"

"I don't have much to do." He explained, "Right now I'm waiting. I wouldn't mind having you around to kill time."

He grinned and the next lines he spoke gave me unpleasant chills.

"Besides, I like you. You seem interesting, Kiku."

I felt my face contort into one of disgust, a heavy frown. I'd had enough of this person. This was the last straw.

"I am not someone to entertain you."

"You wouldn't have to think of it like that."

"I am not some dog for you to play with."

"I thought you liked dogs." He joked, "Seeing as you own one."

This statement caught my attention. And what I suspected disgusted me. I stepped back, creating some space between us, leveling my gaze at him.

"…How would you know that?"

I could tell my suspicions were right as his face suddenly looked surprised. As if he had been caught red-handed. He looked away, frowning. I repeated my question, tone more strict, yet still he stayed quiet.

It dawned on me, and the realization disgusted me so very much.

"You've been spying on me."

He didn't say anything again, avoiding my gaze. I felt sick, completely sick and tried not to think about it. About someone watching my every move and chronicling little tidbits of myself here and there. It was a revolting thought and looking at this person in front of me I refused to believe he was an angel. He wasn't human, but he wasn't an angel, I knew that much. I didn't know what he was and I didn't want to know what he was. With my legs shaking, I almost felt like slapping him. I shook my head though, and tried to think of what to say seeing as he'd conveniently decided to keep silent.

"You," I choked out, trying to articulate all my angry thoughts, "You stay away from me! You…you voyeur!" I pushed past him, and stormed away from there, the door slamming shut behind me. I instantly regretted what I said then; not because I was worried about hurting him, but because my accusation felt too weak. I should've used a stronger word. It was too late now though, and looking behind me I was happy to see I wasn't being followed.

Good. I never want to see that person again anyway. That…that thing whatever it is.

He must have the most disgusting smile I've ever seen. When he speaks kind words it sickens me. I've never disliked someone so much before.

I banished any thoughts about the angel then (if that really was an angel). When I got back to my room I was greeted with the smiling face of Feliciano.

"Welcome back!"

Looking past him I could see the window curtains open. Instinctively, I strode over, closing them in an instant, allowing nothing to look through. It was a sudden action I hadn't even thought through. Looking behind me I could see Feliciano casting me a worried and confused gaze. Suddenly I felt so silly, and looking downward I tried to think of an excuse for my strange action.

"It…" I gulped, "…It looked like it was going to rain."

"…I see."

I did something I hadn't done in a while then; I blushed. However considering the moment and my appearance it wasn't something I had really missed.

"Feliciano!"

Once again, I was jolted awake at the sound of a voice. However, this time the voice didn't belong to any of my siblings, but rather the twin brother of my roommate. I heard more chatter at the bed next to mine, as my back was turned to them. Looking out the windows of our room (for mine was closer to them), I could see the gray sky, the clouds looming over, rain imminent. On and on their chatter went, as someone else joined in (a deeper voice, something awkward but soothing) and I felt a headache start in the back of my head.

Please be quiet.

You're all so irritating.

Finally, I decided it might be better if I just join in. So, I faked a yawn, acting as if I just stirred awake (I've become so good at faking things, it worries me). As I sat up, stretching, I could already see them looking at me. Feliciano smiled, as his two visitors stood around his bed.

"Kiku! Oh!" He looked worried then, "I'm sorry, did we wake you?"

Offering him a soft shake of the head, I assured him they didn't. Which was a lie of course, but I was a good liar so who honestly cared. His visitors also greeted me, and Feliciano had stayed here long enough for me to know them, and they, me. His twin brother Lovino and his childhood friend Ludwig. Foreigners, but foreigners weren't so rare nowadays seeing as Asia was considered a safe haven as the war advanced. However, I digress.

"Visitors again?" I joked, "You're well looked after I see."

Beside him I saw his brother blush, crossing his arms and looking away. He wore fashionable clothes, and I wondered how he could afford such wear in times like these.

"I-I just had some time off work, that's all." He huffed, and it's then I realized I had no idea where he worked. I could remember Feliciano mentioning something about a shop or some such, but other than that I couldn't recall much else. Looking at Ludwig, a tall muscular man, he looked tired. He always looks tired, with permanent dark circles under his eyes. He almost reminded me of Yao in that sense.

"I did promise I'd come to see him as much as I could." He explained. I could remember where Ludwig worked; he owned a bakery with his older brother. I've never met his brother however. I tend to stay distant from people.

"So popular, Feliciano." I joked, and wondered if it came across well. I'm awkward with conversation, and I'm awkward with people. However, he smiled nonetheless (a smile he wore well, I'm quite sure it's second nature to him).

"Well, this is nice, but I'd like it if some pretty girls came to see me too!"

"Hey, what're you saying, idiot brother? I'm not good enough?"

"Ah! No!"

They dissolved into silly banter then, something harmless and childish, as Ludwig tried to calm them down. Feliciano and his visitors always created a lively scene whenever they were together; I noticed it starkly contrasted when I was with my siblings. Perhaps this was the way of foreigners. Or perhaps it's just me. In any case I watched them, amused, and when the chatter calmed down, I could see Ludwig's stare on me, a somewhat worried face. What he asked me next caught me off guard.

"Oh, yes, Kiku," he spoke, "Have you been feeling well lately?"

What a polite man. What a polite and nosy man. I wished I could smile but once again, I find myself unable to. I tried to think of words, normal sounding words, as I blocked out unwanted grief and despair. I hate it when people ask me this. I hate it so, because I can think of a million and one things that tell them no. No I have not been feeling well. However, I hate troubling others, so I simply grin and bear it, and lie.

(Except I cannot grin, I just can't.)

So I offer him a nonchalant answer, and tell him "Yes. I've been fine, thank you for asking."

I've lost count of how many lies I've told.

Watching them, I envy their emotions, I envy their natural feelings. I envy Feliciano's smile, for it is instinctive and it happens effortlessly to him. I hate smiles, and I envy them too. I am a mess of contradictions and jealousy.

Feliciano is in the same ward as me not because he's dying. The hospitals have just run out of room that's all, too many patients, not enough beds, so he was placed here. Although he carries that odd illness that no one has survived, there is still hope. He has a chance at life, and he smiles for it.

And here I am, diagnosed and branded, and fated to die.

Sometimes I want to tell him. I want to turn to him, and tell him flatly "I'm so jealous of you." Yet even if he asked 'why' I wouldn't be able to tell him 'why'. There are a million reasons for 'why' and I don't feel like explaining. Also, I doubt anyone would care.

How dreary of me.

The days pass by, and all these thoughts fly through my head as I lay in my bed. It's night now, our hospital room dark, rain falling outside. It's a soft shush, and it waterfalls over our window. In the bed next to me, Feliciano sleeps silently, his outline a faint figure under the sheets. I've noticed he's lost weight since he's come here, yet still he smiles. He's waiting for a cure, so he keeps smiling. I, in contrast am waiting to die. Until that day; there is nothing I can do about it. Nothing to look forward to. It's terribly aggravating.

The days pass on, weeks come and go, and all I am doing is waiting. They tell me I have a few good months to live. So for now, I am waiting.

My doctor comes to check up on me.

My siblings come to visit me.

I chat with Feliciano.

I take walks in the hospital.

Sometimes I read, or watch the scenery.

Honestly, can I call this living? All I'm doing is waiting. Waiting, waiting, endlessly waiting. I can feel my chest aching at this, my eyes stinging with tears. Alone, in a quiet hospital room, I want to cry, but don't. The tears threaten to spill over, yet for some reason I don't let them.

It's then, staring at a rain-streaked window, I think of the angel.

Is he getting wet in this rain as he waits on the roof? Or does he go elsewhere when the weather turns foul? Does rain even matter at all to angels?

I wonder if he's like me. He said he's waiting; just as I am.

Waiting.

Waiting.

Endlessly waiting.

I'm crying. I didn't even notice, but I've begun to cry. In a cold hospital room I am crying, and I wonder how I got here. I wondered where I was going. What was going to happen to me? It's clear; life will keep me alive as I feel its end loom over me. Closing my eyes, shoulders shaking, I remembered I had already disposed of my suicide note, and that I didn't have any paper to write another one.

Oh well. I suppose there was nothing that could be done about it. I don't have time to write another one, I decided. I sat up, getting out of bed.

I was sick and tired of waiting. It had to be done.

The first thing I saw was his shining figure, standing alone. He looked over his shoulder at me, eyes wide, shocked. The rain didn't even hit him, and he was bright in the dark and rain soaked night. The air was chilly, and my hand felt cold on door to the roof.

"…You came." He spoke softly (almost sounding relieved?) but his tone didn't detour me, and I walked towards him.

Past him.

"What're you doing?" The angel asked, and with a voice like venom I answered him.

"I'm picking up where I left off."

I roughly grabbed the chain-link fence, the metal freezing and wet. I could barely feel the rain soaking me through, my skin becoming numb. No, perhaps I was numb too. I could barely feel my surroundings, my mind loud and blocking it all out. Although I didn't turn to see him, I felt his green eyes on me.

A moment passed between us. The soft shush of the rain was our background noise. I looked out from the roof, and could barely make out the ground below. A year ago the city was ordered for lights out because of the war. Because of that, I looked out to a shadowy world, yet behind me he glowed. He really wasn't human. For now, however, I studied this ground, the one I would soon meet, the one I was supposed to have met days ago. My feet felt heavy however, and I couldn't bring myself to climb over. Not with those green, perverse eyes on me. I turned to look at him, frowning.

"…Aren't you going to stop me?"

His face wasn't kind. It wasn't soft or worried. It was hardened into something like stubbornness, into one of nonchalant annoyance. He shrugged, crossing his arms.

"It's your choice." He explained, "Do what you want. This is no business of mine."

I…I couldn't believe what he said. For a moment I thought I'd misheard, but no. Considering his previous action, of course he would respond in this way. What a terrible person. He was an even more terrible angel. Then again, what was I really hoping for?

Why did I even bother asking?

I looked towards the ground, my body involuntarily shivering because of the cold. Still, my feet refused to budge, and I glared at him again, to that stupid face that still looked annoyed.

"Then look away." I ordered him, "I at least want some privacy."

"I refuse."

"What?"

"You have no right to boss me around."

Suddenly I felt like crying, but I didn't want to show tears to someone like this. So I bit them back, a lump forming in my throat. Why should I care anyway? He's just some insensitive idiot and I shouldn't let it get to me. I'd jump from this roof and be done with him, and all this god-forsaken waiting, and I'd be free and done with it. Yet I couldn't get myself to lift my legs, my whole body frozen on the spot. The cold of the rain bit into my bones, and the lump in my throat felt so heavy. I wanted to cry out then, to do something yet I stayed there.

I could do this, I told myself. I can do this, I need to do this. I gripped the fence harder, and felt those green eyes (those goddamn green eyes) staring at me. I tried to move but my legs felt rigid.

"…Your legs are shaking."

His voice cut into the noise of the falling rain, and I noticed then they were. Shaking wildly, my knees felt weak, but I kept my back to him. I gulped.

"I know that."

I should've climbed over then. Just let that be my last words; who cared anymore? I needed to jump, I needed to end this, who cares if I had to have an audience? Yet no matter how many times I told myself this, tried to convince myself to just get it over with already, I stayed where it was. I hated my body then; the heart that was too weak to live, the legs that refused to end me. My shoulders were shaking and I wanted to stop it because I probably looked so pathetic now, looked so stupid. I didn't want someone to see me like this, yet that insufferable man stayed, so I decided to take my anger out on him.

"Shouldn't an angel talk me out of this?" I asked, voice hoarse, and I hoped my words hurt him. I refused to look at him, but I hope I had dealt some blow to him.

But he was good. He was better at this than I was, and with a few words he made quick work of me.

"Being an angel has nothing to do with this." He said, voice clear, and I could hear him approaching me. "You just want to be talked out of it, don't you?"

With that, I broke.

I want to end this. I want to die. I'm going to die anyway, so why can't I do it myself? I could just jump; a quick action, and forget all about it. Yet, with those very words (such insignificant words, with such weight) he broke my resolve, he revealed what I wanted, he saw through me. Slowly, ever slowly, I felt my knees buckle and I descended onto the ground. Shoulders shaking, looking down at a ground I would never meet, I sat on my knees, on the legs that had failed me.

I couldn't bear to look at him now. So, I didn't. Yet, still, I heard him approach me, and I felt warm hands on my shoulders. His wings folded around me, shielding me from the rain, and they were bright. So very bright, so very beautiful.

"Come now," he spoke softly, "let's get you inside."

I was then I noticed I was crying, and I let myself cry until I was spent.

The angel had a tea set.

Also, the angel's name was Arthur.

"Arthur Kirkland." He had told me. I asked why angels needed last names. He told me to hurry up and drink my tea. I'm getting the feeling he doesn't know half the answers to my questions, and is in the dark as much as I am. Yet I can tell he's prideful and will not admit to this.

I don't know why, but the angel had a tea set. I don't know how the water boiled, I have no idea where he got the tea, and he also had a basket of various baked treats, like scones and croissants. Did angels even need to eat? We sat inside, away from the rain, beside the door to the roof. Adjacent to me was the stairs that lead back to the hospital, but for now I sat with my back against the wall, beside Arthur, sipping the tea he had given me. It was warm, and it gave me the same feeling I had gotten when he had healed my heart. It smelled like Earl Grey, and after taking another sip I glanced to him. (He was shining in the dark, still giving off his own light.)

"I didn't know angels could drink tea." He stared forward, shrugged.

"We don't need to. But it's something I did when I had been alive, and I've yet to break the habit."

I looked at him with wide eyes.

"You used to be human?"

That would actually better explain his attitude I realized. He seemed a bit uncomfortable, bringing his knees to his chest, hugging them. His chin rested on his knees, and for a split second he looked human, entirely normal.

"All angels were. It happens to some who die."

"…Then when I die, will I…?"

"Not likely. You have to die a noble death. Like protecting someone or some such."

I looked at Arthur, and tried to picture him as a human, tried to guess his backstory. With a personality like his, it seemed almost laughable that he had died a martyr. I asked him what his good deed had been and he looked to the side.

"…I don't know. We don't get to keep our past memories. It's said to hold us back."

"I see."

What a curious person I found myself with. Sipping the tea, it warmed me up, my clothes still damp, yet my heart warm. I felt tired after all my crying, my mind just weary. For now, I relaxed, the tea helping with this. I was still wary of Arthur. Yet I wasn't…I wasn't scared. Not anymore.

Am I a fool to let my guard down now, so easily? Perhaps it didn't matter. Perhaps I was looking too into it. Arthur turned to look at me.

"You ask a lot of personal questions, don't you?" He accused. I calmly brought the tea from my lips, leveling my gaze at him.

"I could say the same about you. Don't you also invade into my 'privacy'?"

He frowned after that, but it was true. Yet, he was also right. We were both people that pried too much, that were unlikable and bitter. I believe we both realized that, for he spoke exactly what I was thinking.

"…I guess we're both pretty bad, aren't we?"

'Pretty bad' was putting it lightly. I decided it would have to do, though, and nodded. The cup warmed my hands and looking into the dark, with him shining beside me, I shrugged.

"…I'll come see you."

"What?"

"I'll come see you. On my breaks, I'll come see you."

His eyes looked at me questioningly, but I ignored this, and didn't feel any regret after my promise.

All I'm doing is waiting. Waiting for the day to die, and I'm full of emotions and despair that I cannot show. I am bottled up depression, shaken and ready to burst. I am a terrible person who thinks badly of others, yet desperately wishes to be them. I am someone who can't smile, can't even fake one.

I know I'm messed up. Looking to him, to someone as twisted as me, I decided that I wouldn't mind spending the rest of my days with someone like this. At least I could be honest with him. At least we could be messed up and broken together.

Besides…

…it'd be a fun way to kill time, I suppose.

For a moment he looked surprised. Then, he smiled, that disgusting smile that made my heart throb for some reason or another.

"Good." He spoke slowly, "I'll be waiting then."

And that's how my strange, yet wonderful friendship with Arthur Kirkland began.

That's the end of chapter two! Thank you for reading!

I sincerely hope the emotions of this piece came through well. I want to write this story well so I hope I achieved even a bit of that dream. This is mostly a chapter that establishes the setting and characters, so yeah.

Also, there's more to come like finding out more about Arthur, why he's there, about Feliciano and other stuff! So if you're interested, please stay tuned! Once again, thanks for reading!

-Apple Fairy