It has been a month since America and England were sent to an island in the middle of the Atlantic. If America had known what betting against France would lead him to, he would have never bet at all. Now here he is, stranded on an uncharted island, in the middle of nowhere, with, yes you guessed it, England. The worst part is, there were hardly any supplies left, England was already complaining about not having his evening tea and America was sick of it.
"Why don't you shut up England?" America groaned, "Who cares about your damn tea dude. Worry about the task at hand; trying to build a raft to get off this stupid island." America dragged a rather large branch towards his pile of branches and vines.
"Well sorry," England said, stretching the 'o' with irritation, "I didn't know you wanted to get away from me so badly." He was holding his empty teacup and twirling it around his index finger.
"It's not like that; it's just that we're running out of provisions. I'm pretty sure people on land can hear your stomach growl and we can't drink ocean water," He sighed, "I'm sorry for snapping. But I want to live England."
England simply nodded and fiddled with his thumbs as he watched the ocean's waves crash against the rocks on the coast. But what he doesn't know is.. I'm already on my last few breaths.. He thought sadly. He started to sing a song, the song that no matter how hard he tried to forget, he couldn't.
"You are my sunshine, my only sunshine. You make me happy, when the skies are grey. You'll never know dear, how much I love you. So please don't take, my sunshine, away." He sang softly enough for America to only hear the high notes. After the whole song was sung, England started to feel that churning, fluttering feeling inside his stomach again. Oh no, not again, he thought, I have to go. Now. England got up, then, with a swift turn, he darted to the other side of the island without looking back.
America was puzzled. He didn't know why the smaller male had taken off in such a rush and it worried him. They had only explored the coast of the small island and were unaware of the dangers within the large jungle in the center. What lies behind those tall trees and thick vines was a complete mystery to him.
"England! Where are you going?" The American called, "Eyebrows!"
There was no answer. America ran after the Brit, calling out to him every few seconds, this only made the Brit run faster than before. He can't see me, he just can't! He thought to himself as he willed his legs to run faster. He turned back to the American and didn't see him. Just in time, he thought as he doubled over, holding his stomach. England's painful hurling could be heard halfway across the island, he griped a coconut tree as the he wiped his mouth on his wrinkled, dirty shirt.
"England?" Called a light voice, "Eyebrows are you over here?" England started to panic; he quickly covered the mess with a bunch of dead leaves and sat on a large rock away from the evidence.
"Over here," The weak male called back to America, "Near the coconut trees!"
America trudged through the thick greenery all the way to England, with a long heavy sigh he said, "Thank gosh I found you," He laughed, oh, England will miss that laugh, "I thought you were eaten by a Sasquatch or something."
"You silly git," England said weakly, trying to save what was left of his breath, "Those aren't real."
"England are you okay? You sound winded."
"As right as rain," England got up wobbly, the world seemed to be blurring and focusing on itself at the same time. England's head was spinning and he felt his time was nearer than he thought.
"England," America's voice was stern yet compassionate, "Are you not telling me something?"
"Why.. Why would you think-" His sentence was cut short from him suddenly falling forward, only to be caught by America.
"England! What's wrong England!" He said frantically, checking England's neck for bug bites.
"America, sing me a song," England took short shallow breaths as he closed his eyes, "The one I taught you, all those years ago."
"What? Are you crazy?"
"Sing the song America, I beg of you," England said in a hoarse tone, "Please." Reluctantly, the younger male started to sing.
"You are my sunshine, my only sunshine. You make me happy, when the skies are grey. You'll never know dear, how much I love you. So please don't take, my sunshine, away," He sang lightly as the clouds above them started to turn grey and a single drop fell onto England's pale face, "The other night dear, as I lay sleeping, I dreamed I held you in my arms. When I awoke dear, I was mistaken. And I held, my head, and cried."
England's breath was slower now, he thought of reaching out to America and telling him what lay deep in his heart. The emotions he had locked away from even himself. Instead, he pressed his palm to America's cheek and smiled, with his last breath, he finally said, "You are my sunshine." At that point, the message fully embedded itself in America's thick skull.
"England," He whispered, "England please don't go! England!" He shook the lifeless body of the old Brit as tears started to stream down his cheeks, falling onto England's face and mixing with the rain. He looked up at the stormy grey clouds and screamed. All the unsaid feelings he had for him, all the late nights they could've spent together cuddling, the endless laughter between them. It was gone. The one who cared for him, fed him, raised him was gone, and he couldn't do anything about it.
America sat in the sand on his knees, holding England's cold body to his as if he were to spring to life spontaneously and shout "I'm joking!" But he didn't, he stayed completely still, as a dead person would. America's one love was gone, and he hadn't even confessed his love. His role model, his educator, his one and only, his sunshine, was gone.