Title: Falling Slowly

Genre: Romance

Pairing: America x Belarus (AmeBel)

Rating: R-13 for profanities

"Maybe there's something you're afraid to say,

or someone you're afraid to love,

or somewhere you're afraid to go.

It's gonna hurt.

It's gonna hurt because it matters."

- John Green

...

There is no such thing as a coincidence.

At least, that is what Alfred F. Jones has always told himself. Every little detail would twist and turn one's life into something more – or even less. Depending on the situation. For an example; detentions would not even happen in the first place if he behaved all too well in class. Or when he was ten, then he could have saved his puppy from being hit by a civic if he wasn't too ignorant to leave the front door open. There are always roots and causes to each and every action no matter how little or obscure they are to the human mind. It wasn't an opinion, but a fact.

And now, if he didn't act so much like a jerk to his brother, then he wouldn't even reach this point where he had to search for a book regarding how Canadians never even participated in the World War II just to prove his point. Being stubborn as he naturally is, the blonde man was determined to prove him wrong. Though it would only cost him a little patience to search for evidence in the library today.

Pushing the glass door open, he strut his way inside. Big blue eyes blinked at the image before him; a room filled with shelves and shelves containing more books at each section. The place isn't very classy, or modern – just another establishment with its dull, stale white walls covered with wooden shelves and dusty books. It certainly wasn't picture perfect. Whatever. It could at the least provide him of the real proof (and not internet based because it isn't really reliable specially on this important case) he needs so he could get his ass off this place asap. For all he knew, the only people who stick with libraries are those smart, nerd kids or those old people who does not know how to work with the internet. As if this very place right here mattered. As if it could change his life in a moment.

Placing his earphones, the lad blasted his music as he began to search each and every ledge. Quietly tapping his fingers on the wooden frame with the beat of his song. Each track getting louder than the previous one, up to the point when he began humming along the lyrics without noticing the disturbance he's causing in the usually quiet place.

The "Shhhh"s and warnings of the librarians were left neglected as he jammed to his music. Head bobbing to the beat of the drums, feet shuffling a bit with his little dance. Alfred pulled out three books from their place, each about the WWII that would provide him of the 'evidence' he was looking for. The black and white photos on the cover featuring tanks, guns and soldiers are just perfect. Feeling giddy, he easily lost track of the number one most common library rule that every educated person know. The blonde punched a fist in the air with accordance to the drums of his music, hollering with glee along the vocalist.

Unaware of the angry clicks of shoes coming towards him, he jumped when one of his earphones was jammed out abruptly followed by a harsh twist of his right earlobe making him wince.
"Shut up!" A quiet voice hissed.
Blue eyes lowered to see a girl about his age, only a foot shorter, long platinum hair dangling down her waist. A pair of pink petal lips being complemented by her snow white skin. But what intrigued him most is her eyes. Those deep set of purple eyes glowering at him while he stared.
"H-huh?" Alfred asked, dumb founded.
"This is a library. Not a concert hall, idiot."
Sure, she was pretty. Beautiful, even. But he found no attraction towards the belle. She just looked so… pissed. And certainly, her sour demeanor is definitely not complimenting her angelic features. Too bad.

Her twilight eyes are cold and hard, revealing her resentment for the guy. The American's curiosity perked up. Something about her eyes, those rich purple set of eyes… is so familiar to the lad. Little did he realize being lost into them for quite a while – the feeling of nostalgia creeping down his churned stomach. As if he has known her all too well before, yet meeting her for the first time all the same. An inexplicable rush washing through him.

"Will you stop staring?!"

It was then when he snapped out of his little illusion, blinking rapidly at her.
"W-what?"
Her frown was evident. Completely displeased, without meaning to even hide it out of proper manners. Really. What a waste of beauty. The male thought.
"Cut it out or I will blind you myself." There was a certain accent on her voice he couldn't well identify but it sounded like a thick Russian. And judging on her features, that pale skin and silvery locks of hers certainly mismatched everyone else's.
An eyebrow was raised towards her, arms crossed before his chest. "Look, lady… Get over yourself. It's not like I'm staring at you in particular." He defended, not really with intention to sound mean but it certainly didn't get across very well.
The belle's eyes widened in surprise, a little offended with his notion and the tone of his voice despite trying to hide it with her distant façade. It was as if he's making her look like an egotistical person just because he asked him to stop.
"Excuse me?"
"What? You're not that pretty to be stared at, either." Alfred said stupidly, desperate to defend himself from being caught in the act of being fascinated by her.
"W-what?! I-"
"Pft. Love at first sight my ass." He babbled too defensively, leaving the girl dumbfounded. "It's not like anyone would even like you and your sour attitu-"
A slap across his cheek made him stop. Her eyes were brimming with anger, trembling hands pinned on her side.
"GET OUT!" Shrill voice echoed in the wide room, making every head turn towards their direction. Some are surprised, some are pissed. A woman wearing a blank expression then approached the two – her brown eyes are cold and frigid which could even rival the girl's. Her façade remained the same until Alfred and his new 'friend' stopped to look at her. On the corner of the lad's eyes, he noticed her lilac eyes glisten in wary for a quick second only to be hid by her composed look. Maybe it was just his eyes playing tricks on him, maybe not.
"Natalya. What are you doing?" The older woman asked, crossing her arms. Figure expressing her full authority over her and the entire library; from the ceiling to the floor. Oh. So they did run into trouble afterall.
"I-it wasn't me."
"It was your voice." She pressed. The more seconds passed, the more Alfred felt uncomfortable under her demanding presence. And he didn't like it a little bit.
"But—"
"You of all people should know the rules of the library."
"Dy, I do. But—"
"Is he your friend?"
Amidst of all her explanations, Natalya stopped and stared at her with wild eyes. "W-what?"
"I asked If he was your friend." She nodded at Alfred, who chuckled nervously under the inspection.
"N—"
"Y-yes! I sure am!" The boy cheered, wrapping an arm around the appalled girl. "Best of friends. Definitely!"
"What?!" Natalya shrieked, pushing him off her but this only made Alfred pull her closer. "He is not!"
The older female assessed the situation before her for a while, before heaving a sigh out of sheer frustration.
"Leave me alone!"
"No can do."
"I will sue you! Ugh!" Her petite frame continued to persistently escape his hold, but finding it impossible. Anger at the boy coiling within her; wishing to kill him then and there.
"What? It's a free country!" Alfred laughed obnoxiously, earning another "shhh" from the readers making him apologize sheepishly – a hand rubbing the back of his neck.
"Both of you need to get out." A stern voice called out, making the two of them look at the older with unusual docile expression.
"But—"
"Natalya. Get out." Her rigorous voice demanded. "I can't have you playing along here of all places. I'm dismissing you early."
"But Mrs. Smith he's not my friend—"
"I said go." She repeats once more through gritted teeth that no one could appeal. Feeling helpless, Natalya bit her tongue and proceeded to her desk wordlessly. Alfred followed close behind with an intrigued look, studying each and every movements of the dame.
She picked up her bag and stormed out of the building. With knitted brows, the blonde lad pursued behind her every footstep like a lost puppy. His hands tucked in his pocket as they abandoned the confines of the library.

The clicks of her mary janes were heard as she stomped her way down the street, rudely shoving anyone who went against her path. A prying eyebrow was raised, watching her incredulously. Alfred easily trailed behind her no matter how quick her pacing may be, not daring to start a conversation. All of her actions are already enough to speak for themselves, and he found himself submerged in them.
Something about her… simply looks so familiar. Being lost within the confines of his mind, struggling to find why he found her so… enchanting. As if he had met her before, like they were friends.
Maybe it was those sort of reincarnation thing?
Pft. It couldn't be.
There has to be some reason why he felt so appealed to the girl.
"Will you stop following me?!"
Alfred blinked, meeting the furious gaze of the belle.
"First, I was only doing my job and yet you, being such an egotistical jerk, completely offended and violated me. Second, I am not your friend! Third, I was kicked out because of you! What the hell is your problem?!" She screamed, fury radiating from her very gaze.
"Well... uh. I need a proof that the Canadians didn't really participate in the World War II." The lad responded coolly. "You see, I don't really go to libraries and stuff. The internet is quite unreliable, and books are much believable to use as proof so that my brother wi—"
"How stupid can you get? Ofcourse they were involved!"
"Really?" His eyes widened in disbelief. "No, no… I can't believe you. I need proof."
"I'm a librarian, not a library. Leave. Me. Alone." The belle snapped, turning with the balls of her feet and continued to walk away.
Alfred narrowed his eyes. Oh, no. He wouldn't let her escape that easily. First, he needed to find out why he felt so drawn on her. He needed factual reasons. Reasons that would explain that it is not just him feeling weird, and specially not a coincidence.
"But I didn't steal you away from that grungy place for no reason." He called out, jogging to keep up with her. "Hi, I'm Alfred." The lad flashed his most stunning grin and held out a hand but she didn't stop walking nor pay any attention towards him. Rather, she even picked up her pace.
Puffing his cheeks in annoyance, he tried harder.
"And you are…?"
"Someone who hates your guts." The girl hissed. Eyes completely set on what's infront of her as she brisk walked.
"Wait… I think I remember…" He mused, recalling the conversation earlier with the older woman. "Was it Nat… Natalie?"
No response.
"No? I didn't think so, too. Uh… Natasha?"
Still, no answer.
"Nat? Won't you tell me your name?" The boy asked with a sheepish grin. Which was, once again, left neglected.
He heaved a sigh, yet continued with her pace of walking effortlessly.
The dame's solid barrier was tough. Gaze locked on what was before her, never wavering. Judging on her attitude, Alfred simply couldn't deny that she's one tough cookie. It was quite impressive; having an angelic beauty with a potent head. But then again, her sour tendencies and irritable mood is somewhat a let down. Studying her intently, the lad belatedly realized her growing fascination for the strange girl.

"Do you even smile?"
He asked out of the blue, which made her stop on her heels and fall silent. She pursed her lips, looking down at the ground as if contemplating whether to talk to him or not before she finally turned to meet his gaze.
"I don't. If that answers your question, then leave already."
"That's sad…" He mutters, pouting.
"As you can see, I really don't care."
"I bet you'd look nice with it."
"Look." She took a deep breath, locking her gaze at sheepish sky blue ones. "I'm not going to listen to freaks like you who ruin others' lives just because they have nothing to do, alright?"
Nothing but a chuckle escaped his lips, hands stuffed inside his pockets as he flashed a wolf-grin. "Am I really ruining your life?" He asked, determined not to leave her alone until he figured out how she felt so strange and familiar. She was a mystery he simply couldn't leave unsolved.
"Based on the last fifteen minutes you've been following me? I'd say yes."
"That's mean." Alfred laughed, tilting his head to one side. "You can't judge a person depending with your first fifteen minutes with them."

It was only light talking. Mindless and easy. And yet…

"Actually, I can." Determined purple eyes bore on blue ones. Cold and hard like metal steel that reflected her tenacy. "You are a person who will ruin my life every second passing. Get out of my face now before I would have to kill you."
Cerulean orbs sparkled in wonder. To him, she was nothing more than an adorable and a really sullen kitten trying to push him away. And it only pleased him more. "Aww shucks. Well, if I would judge you for the last minute, then you're nothing more than a sourpuss with a pretty face. Which is a waste." He sighed, mocking her.
"If only you could smile just a tiny bit-" A hand reached out to poke her cheek playfully, only to be rivaled by smaller ones; twisting them in ways that would break human bones if only Alfred isn't stronger than her.
"Don't fucking touch me." She hissed, glaring at the man.
"I didn't even touch you. You touched me." He retorts, clasping her smaller hand and locking it with his as if they're holding hands.

Aggravating. He was aggravating. Well, if there are other words that would explain how annoying he was to her, then she would use it. A lot of people have already fallen on her hate-list, but it seems like the lad is earning the throne at the moment. He was in his prime, effortlessly vexing the hell out of her like it was his sole reason to be born in this world.

"Haha! Look! We're holding hands!" Alfred joked cheekily, securing her hand in his.
"Let go of me!"
"No can do."
"Why the hell not?!"
"Hmm…? Not until I figured everything out." The lad answered cheekily, turning to walk down the aisle whilst towing the girl behind.
Not really sure what he was talking about, Natalya tugged her hand from his hold but finding his grasp unbreakable. "I told you! The Canadians joined the World War! Stop being stupid and just listen!" She screamed, earning them a couple or more heads turned to look at them. Still, he didn't pay any attention as he strolled straight pass anyone.
"That's not what I was trying to figure out…" He called out, looking around the corners of the busy street. "But no thanks, though. I can't believe just anything a sullen girl like you would say!" His laugh was loud and obnoxious. Something that ticked her even more, If it was even possible.
"Ugh! Let go!" Her other hand clawed his grip, digging sharp nails down his skin. But Alfred remained undeterred. Despite her attempts to break free, he continued to tow her away. He wanted to find out more about her. To discover her. So that he could finally get rid of this charmed feeling he had to the belle. As simple as that. An answer to dismiss every wonder he had for the girl. Once everything would be clear, then he could easily move on and leave her alone with her life as he would deal with his.

But Natalya was potent. Little did he notice a retractable knife is already positioned on his side; poised to kill with her deadly gaze.
"Let go of me. Now." The platinum blonde demanded, pressing her authorities. "I will kill you. I'm not kidding."
Alfred's eyes widened at the scene. She was actually carrying a knife with her all along. Why? He did not know. As much as it terrified him to know such, a little part of him was even more intrigued with the belle's background. They were little sparks of curiosity that would burst into flames if left unattended. And he wasn't even ready for this kind of fire.

Heaving a sigh, he abruptly let go of her and raised his hands up in surrender. Bedazzled eyes locked with intense ones for a bit while both tried to enter the other's mind and way of thinking. Only resulting with nothing.
He was strong. And very stupid. But why he was so intent to follow her and why he caused all of these misfortunes for today certainly bothered her. Unless he already has a plan beforehand they even met, which is unlikely. Natalya never socialized with anyone outside her family. Well, except a couple of childhood friends but they didn't really have a flourishing relationship. More like she was only stuck with them just because she had no choice. Other than that, the man standing before her now had no reason to stalk her or bother her. She had nothing to offer.

And yet, she held all the answers he wanted. All the answers that could finish this weird curiosity resulting to such mess. If only he could know her, then it would be over as soon as it sparked.

But no.

The longer he spends time with her, the more eccentric she becomes which captivated him more. What seems like a single question he was meaning to ask pilled up into molehills only she alone could answer.
It was an irritating feeling; him being clueless. As much as possible, he wanted to know everything. He wanted to know the reasons behind each moments, how every actions would lead into different situations. Unfortunately for him, he found a deadlock. He found her.

"I'm hoping you would tell me why you're walking around the streets of this city with a knife in hand…" Alfred watched her abjure the blade, making him sigh heavily in relief. She pulled up her skirt, slipping it down its sheath wrapped around her thigh nonchalantly. Cheeks were dusted in red as he tried hard to swallow with his dry throat; unable to look away from her milky white legs.
"Ahem."
And that was enough of a signal for him to stop daydreaming whatever that flashed through his mind. The frills of her skirt falling back to place, covering up to her knees.
"Sorry." A sheepish look flashed his face, scratching the back of his head. "So, will you tell me?" He pressed once again after recovering from the little show.
"No."
"Okay. Let me guess… You're a serial killer?"
"No."
A chuckle escaped the boy's lips. As if he would believe a petite girl like her could be a serial killer. Even if she is, his instincts was still strong on insisting Natalya could never be. She began past him once again, insistent on evading the annoying lad but he only followed in return like a lost puppy.
"Hmm… You're an assassin?!" He beamed, excitement overflowing through his veins. Wide, blue eyes sparkling in hope.
"No."
"Ah. Too bad… It would've been sooo cool!" The male of the blondes let out a wistful sigh. "W-wait— Don't tell me! Are you a terrorist?!" He mused light-heartedly. A smile consistent on his frame despite the growing irritation over the belle.
"No."
"But it makes sense! I mean, you don't look like you're from around here. I don't think I have seen someone with such deep set of purple eyes… and you have an accent! It all sums up together!"
"I am not a terrorist!" The belle, once again, stopped on her tracks to face him with a raged look. His eyes widened at her sudden anger. "Just because I look different doesn't mean you could jump into conclusions! You idiot! This is the final time – stop following me!"
Her shaky voice was finally heard. Somehow, he knew he went out of line. And maybe it was just his eyes playing tricks on him, that he noticed a little moisture on the corners of her eyes as if she's crying. This ought to stop the American from questioning further. It was just a mischievous interrogation. It's not like he would believe her if she was a terrorist. Alfred knew some people would carry around a knife only for their own protection, but he had no idea what damage his questions brought her emotionally.
With her tiny frame still shaking in anger, Natalya abruptly turned and ran out of sight. All too quick for the still-dazed boy to follow.

The reason Alfred was so persistent is to question the strange girl and why he felt like he has met her before. He would just have to ask who she really was, where she lives. Maybe she was another one of those faces he wouldn't pay attention to among the crowd; like another girl in the McDonalds he bumped into but was far too occupied with food to notice. Or maybe she's the girl from the coffee shop the other day he failed to notice. Probably someone who went to the same university as him.

There were so many possibilities that sparked his attention. A precious memory of her angelic face that bothered him the most.

The arrogant boy thought it was so easy. Like something he could solve within the day of observing her. The quicker he finds out, the better.

But all his expectations backfired.

Over the last thirty minutes he was with her, his questions only stacked up.

Natalya was a puzzle he couldn't easily solve.

A/N: Hello!

Thank you for checking out one of my works, and boy, are you in for a ride. This is going to be a long train ride that I would hopefully finish. Well, on this section I would like to acknowledge SA18LockDragon for taking this story under her beta sections! Almakazam too for the wonderful ideas. These people are amazing. You might want to check out some of their stories some times. A couple of the best writers I know.

Anyway, I'm glad you stuck through my first chapter and I hope you all enjoyed it. There might be a lot of twists and turns eventually so you might want to keep your seatbelts on. Please do read and review for whatever kind of opinion you have because you are entitled to it, and it would help me develop the story. Let's help each other out, yes? Thanks again! See you next time!