American Symphony

You Are The Reason

(Short One: 985 words)

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The rain was hard as it pelted his umbrella. Why did it always rain at a time like this? A cliche, he supposed. Something that was simply bound to happen.

Or perhaps it was because of his own mood, stormy and distraught as he walked down the sidewalk. He rolled his shoulders and continued walking, shaking his head at the thought.

America trudged up the stairs to a coffee house, lowering his umbrella and shaking out the excess water before walking inside.

The coffee house was warm and homey, the smell of lavender and honey mixing with coffee and fresh baked goods wafting through the air. People milled about minding their own business, reading or chatting with one another.

Feint music played in the background, giving the place ambiance, but it wasn't loud enough to distract.

In the corner stood a small stage, used for anything from karaoke to slam poetry, but for now was empty with a single mic standing alone on the aging wood.

The young blonde set his umbrella inside a holder and rubbed his hands together in an attempt to warm them, but knew it was no use.

His entire body had felt the bite of bitter cold ever since he first got the news, and couldn't gather the thoughts to make anything of what he was feeling—

Sure, he knew what he was supposed to be feeling, grief, anger, sadness, fear, anxiety, but really he just felt... numb.

He hadn't shed a tear when he'd been told.

Why hadn't he shed a tear?

His brother, Canada, had crumpled to the floor in France's arms and sobbed himself to sleep, the older country cradling him in his lap as he himself silently cried when they first got the news, he would know, he'd been there, but for some reason he just...

He just couldn't.

Maybe it hadn't sunk in. Maybe he was denying it, and his lack of tears was just his mind telling him that the entire thing wasn't real.

But...

He knew it was.

America let out a breath and walked up to the counter, ordering a coffee and paying before taking a seat against the wall. A song picked up in the background, and he smiled at its words.

It reminded him of what he had lost, of what he'd never been able to say to someone he loved so dearly.

"There goes my heart beating

'Cause you are the reason

I'm losing my sleep

Please come back now..."

America closed his eyes and listened to the music, leaning against the wall and gently tapping out a beat on his pants leg.

"There goes my mind racing

And you are the reason

That I'm still breathing

I'm hopeless now..."

He smiled, thinking back on everything he'd been able to do— but it fractured when he thought of everything he wouldn't get the chance to do.

He started to whisper quietly along with the song, more to himself than anyone else.