America x Reader: Red String

"Hey, dude, you're finally here!" Alfred shouts as he grabs your arm, yanking you into an embrace.

Your cheeks heat up; you've been one-sidedly in love with him for nearly half a year. There are plenty of other girls who are in love with him too (and plenty who just want to fuck him), but you're surprised that he pays attention to you. You're way too shy and quiet, and you're terrible at expressing your emotions and you are too much a Grammar Nazi (though you'd never say that out loud in front of Ludwig; he'd probably gas you) and you still can't believe Alfred likes being your friend.

Which is why you'd never confess to him.

"Hey, where's the present?" Alfred asks, his smile disappearing.

"U-um…I couldn't think of what to bring…"

He laughs and hugs you again. "You should've just put on a bow and called yourself my present!"

You blush. "O-oh…okay. Happy birthday, Alfred…and Independence Day."

"Thanks, (name)! You should stay my side today, okay? Because, you know, you're my present and everything." He tackles his brother and quickly asks him for something. The Canadian—oh, no, what's his name…?—sighs and enters the house. He soon comes back with a red thread. You watch as Alfred takes your hand and ties it to your pinky, and then he asks you to tie it to his own pinky. You do it, though you're confused as to why he's making you guys do this. It's so embarrassing…

"Yeah!" Alfred fist pumps the air with his free hand as he jumps up and down. "C'mon!"

He drags you down the backyard of his huge mansion, letting you handle the sparklers while he set off fireworks that let out beautiful lights into the night sky. The whole time, the girls talked about how jealous they were off Alfred and you, that you were tied with the red string…but you don't get it. I mean, yes, you understand that you're connected to him, but they seem to be making a bigger deal out of all of this…

You get a pretty good workout having to follow Alfred around so the string won't break, which he carefully instructs you that you can't do. The worst part is when you desperately need to pee, but you're too shy to tell him, and you refuse to break the string because, after all, you're his present.

But as the skies start to get cloudy—and not from the smoke—people start heading home. The partying officially ends when it begins to pour from the heavens above, and the few partygoers that haven't left or aren't in the middle of leaving collect inside Alfred's house, simply drinking and eating and joking.

You feel a twinge of sadness tugging at your heart when you see the dejected Alfred walking next to you, no longer ecstatic because fireworks are possibly his favorite thing about his birthday…you know, save for it being his birthday, which is pretty awesome on its own. You tug on his hand, and he looks at you, brightening his gaze with a bright smile.

"Y-you know…" you begin softly. You haven't said much to him this whole time, simply nodded and smiled to his comments. "I…I really enjoyed this time with y-you, A-Al." There is a sprinkle of red over your cheeks as your face heats up and you stare at his shoes. They're Converse…the Americana collection kind.

"Really?" He steps towards you. You glance up at catch the grin on his face, the triumph in his eyes. "Me too! W-with you, I mean. Duh, obviously." He laughs.

"And…Al?"

"Uh huh?"

You decide it is now or never; besides, he's bound to know someday.

"I…I like you…a lot."

"You too! You're an awesome friend, (Name)!"

And your heart shatters. "Uh…not in that way, Al…fred." You stare at the ground. "I mean, I think I…am in love with you."

His smile disappears as soon as he hears you say that and so does the little hope you have inside your heart. You glance around, desperate for an escape, but the red string around your pinky tells you otherwise.

Then you catch sight of the blonde boy—um…Matthew, you think—and you mouth, "Help me," before glancing over at the stunned American standing next to you.

For some reason, Matthew understands, and he walks over…and cuts the rope with scissors.

"Goodnight, (Name)," he tells you softly. You can barely remember him half the time, but you guys are pretty good friends. "Don't forget I am coming to pick you up at nine." You guys are going to the zoo; he really wants to see the polar bears, and you really want to see the penguins. "Bye."

"Bye…M…Matthew."

Good, you didn't forget his name this time.

You suddenly rush out of the front door, completely embarrassed by all of that. You should have just kept quiet and cut the string yourself. You shouldn't have waited that long without even peeing just to shock the American into silence and immobility…which is a no, right?

It has to be. Every time something good has happened to him, he becomes completely obnoxious and loud and happy—well, more than usual. This is reaction to when something…absolutely terrible happens.

The first thing you do when you arrive home is tear off your clothing and pee. Then you change into dry clothes and curl into your bed, nearly crying yourself to sleep. Today sucked so bad… You wish you could take all your words back…

***

When you wake up the next morning, you shower and get ready. Usually, after breakfast, you text your friends "good morning" and such.

And then comes Alfred… His is the hardest to write.

Good morning! I am sorry about last night. Still friends?
8:41AM

You hope he'll put aside what you said; plenty of girls have confessed to him, so this shouldn't be a problem, right?

I don't think so.
8:42AM

Your hands start to tremble as the phone drops towards the floor, your vision blurry from salty tears that make your eyes burn slightly. You wipe the tears away and hurry away from the phone; you don't need to text anyone today anyway, so it's fine if you leave it there, still on the floor.

You don't notice the second incoming text from Alfred, your footsteps louder than the vibrations of your floor against the carpet.

As soon as you're downstairs, you quickly grab your bag and open the door. It's nearly nine, so Matthew should be here soon, if he isn't already out there.

You catch the blonde hair glimpsing up, the shine of the glasses against the sun, and you say, "Hey, Matthew, you ready?"

"Who are you calling Matthew?" a familiar voice says, and you drop your bag on the ground, spilling all of its contents. You drop to your knees to pick the things up. Alfred moves to help you, but you push him away, quickly seizing everything and pushing it into your bag. "(Name)?"

"W-what…do you want?" you ask, trying to sound bitter and mean, but you only manage in hiccupping after want.

Yep, way to show him how you're totally fine without him. You go, girl.

"Didn't you get my text?" he asks.

"I definitely did," you whisper and your eyes tear up again. "Where's Matthew? He and I are going somewhere."

"Whoa, so, is this a no? You're rejecting me…for my brother?" He really sounds hurt, and you definitely feel completely befuddled. "I thought you said you love me…"

"You already rejected me, Alfred. W-what…are you talking about?"

"I just sent you a text telling you to look out the window." And he points to the ground. White sheets of cloth cover your yard, and you realize they…are in the shape of letters.

"You…did?" you ask before you quickly rush inside, running upstairs to your bedroom. You pick up the phone.

I don't think so.
8:42PM

Look out your window, please?
8:43PM

You throw open your window and see what the cloth spells out: (NAME), WILL YOU BE MY GIRLFRIEND?

And then you start to cry.

***

Alfred stands at your steps, completely confused and hurt. He can hear your sobs from upstairs. Did he mess this up? How did he mess this up? Even the polar bear guy said it was romantic!

His face connects with the palms of his hands as he cradles his head, propping his elbows on his knees for support. You had said you loved him…and he was so completely blown away by the fact that someone as pretty and smart like you could ever love him. He's been in love with you since he noticed you a year ago, and when you became his friend…

But you said you loved him, so why were you saying no, dammit?!

That was when the front door creaked open and you peered out, catching sight of the distraught American. He glanced up at you, his blue eyes pools of misery, and you took timid steps towards him before pulling him into your arms.

"Yes," you managed out.

And Alfred F. Jones's day is completely made. He jumps up, grabbing you by the waist to spin you around, and then he smashes his lips against yours, letting the intense kiss fade into something softer and sweeter…

This is better than he imagined it would be. ♥

***
Epilogue:

"So, what was the point of the red string anyway?" you ask your boyfriend as you guys share an ice cream at Dairy Queen.

"Oh, that Japanese guy said it had something to do with fate and being soul mates and stuff."

Your face reddens. No wonder all the girls seemed so jealous last night!