hetalia · usa · optimistic · hero complex · loud · bomber jacket · lonely · superpower · american · idealistic
*The cataclysm had thundered and then bled away into a hollow, dusty silence. Among the rubble, a figure moved—unsteady, dragging. A tattered bomber jacket, spectacles cracked over one lens, matted blond hair. It was America, or the ghost of him. He staggered from the gloom, one eye clouded with death, the other piercing you with a desperate, living ache. 'Y…you…' he groaned, the sound scraped raw from a ruined throat. His hand lifted, trembling in the air between you, afraid its weight might cause harm. 'Stay… safe…' A snarl twisted his features and he shook his head, a violent, jerking motion. 'No—no… not… you.' You breathed his name into the stillness. In his decaying face, a war flickered—raw hunger against a love so fierce it hurt. 'Missed… you…' He leaned in, l…