Until I Met You (America x Chubby!Reader x Yandere!2P!America)

Epilogue

You placed the rose on the coffin.

"[Name]" Allen whispered when you turned your back just when Father Pedro cleared his throat, but you raised a hand as a tired gesture of disinterest. This was the second funeral you've been to in the past five weeks, you weren't in the mood for the same "there's a reason for everything" speech twice.

Jason committed suicide before you could kill him. Merely two days after, Rosewood called and told you your father passed away in his sleep. Dad's wake was organized by Eloise herself; attended by faces you never recognized and of only half were there to chat with Eloise.

Both men you held dearly, both men now gone.

Because of me. You shook your head and shoved the nasty words away. You weren't going through this again.

Your chunky heels tapped on the rocky pavement as you wandered aimlessly around the churchyard. Tall oak trees, wildflowers blooming, the dirt full of tombstones.

What were these people like when they were alive? So many stories, so many bodies. But how many had souls? Surely they weren't just "loving daughters" or "caring husband" or "good friends". They said never speak ill of the dead. To hell with that.

People just don't want to be judged for telling the truth.

You would rather have your former classmates share with the world about what they really thought about you: that you were a freak, a fatass, and a slut. It would be shades better than hear them spout out bullshit.

You stopped in front of an unmarked grave. How sad it must be. . . to die without being remembered.

Jason had a wake because of your insistence, paid with money from your bank account. It was a simple, somber funeral. You were the sole person there who actually cried for him, the twins went there with you and only for your sake. Arin was smart enough to keep her mouth shut but you knew how much she despised Jason, Allen on the other hand, he never showed anything he didn't want others to see, but you were aware that he didn't like Jason's company as much as the next person.

The air crackled and soft rain poured down. But you barely felt a drop.

You looked up.

Even with a shiner and a bruised lip Alfred still looked adorable. He held his jacket over your head, "I'm sure he's in a better place now."

Alfred had been in a four-day coma, brought upon by a massive concussion. He also suffered from a few fractures, (thankfully) all were mild and healed quickly, but other than that he was alive and well. When he opened his eyes his mother practically squeezed him with a tight bear hug.

"You didn't have to come." You muttered, but deep inside you were grateful that he did. Girls, you thought to yourself, So complicated.

"Of course I had to." He walked with you to his truck, now fixed and freshly painted.

". . .Thank you"

He smiled and opened the door for you "Madam"

You giggled and slid inside, "How was therapy?"

"Dr. Gil said that I've been doing great and honestly, I feel great." He took his seat next to you.

"I'm happy to hear that" You meant it, it had to be the best news that has come to you since Jason's death, but your tone was hushed and hesitant. You were close to crying again.

"It's all thanks to you, baby." Alfred leaned over to kiss your forehead.

You thumbed his cheek, careful not to rub the skin too hard. Alfred frowned. He knew exactly what you were thinking.

"You didn't do this to me, baby." He grabbed your hand and kissed the inside of your palm "Please stop blaming yourself."

"I know it's not my fault, but. . .I may not have been the bullet but I was the trigger—" Your voice cracked and Alfred, in one swift motion, pulled you over the armrest.

"Enough." He said sharply, his stare pierced right through you. "I love you too much to watch you burn yourself like this. Do you hear me, [Name]? Don't think you don't deserve love. I love you even if you don't, and it hurts me seeing you like this."

You gaped. He has never used the l word before, even when you came to visit after he recovered from his coma; there were hugs and kisses and tears but the word love was never brought up. Until now.

His gaze softened, "I love you, [Name] [Middlename] [Lastname]."

"I. . ." Tears swelled in your eyes "I love you, too, Alfred Fucking Jones." You wrapped your arms around him, but when you went for his mouth he instantly pulled away.

"What?"

"I'm not going to kiss you there. Not right now."

You quirked a brow.

"[Name], your father just died. Your first love just died." He explained, "I won't take advantage you like that"

"It's not taking advantage if I agree."

"No." He said plainly. You groaned and climbed off the armrest "You're too much of a boy scout."

He chuckled and started the engine "I'm being a gentleman"

"Gentlemen are boring, and being boring is a true failing in a man" You teased.

"That's a shame, madam" He reached inside the glove compartment and then waved two theatre tickets in front of you "I guess you're not interested in going to Hamilton with this 'boring gentleman'?"

"Wha—" You snatched the paper from him "They were sold out!"

"I pulled a few strings, called my guy. I have a guy for this."

"You mean Allen?"

He shrugged "Tomato, toh-mah-toh" He then smirked "Tell me, am I still boring, Miss [Lastname]?"

"Seems like I stand corrected. You've proven me wrong, Mr. Jones" You laughed and slipped your fingers into his. "You're beautiful."

Author's note: Thank you so much for reading everyone! I really enjoyed writing this story and if you have the time please check out Heathers (both the movie and the musical) and Wuthering Heights (the novel and whichever of the adaptions), or if you're interested, do take a look of my other Hetalia x Reader books.