Considering I've been on hiatus for years now (*insert panicked laughter*), I've been considering getting back into fanfiction lately... and whilst I try to work up further motivation to do so, here's an old story to test the likely long-dry puddle that was once my small group of readers.
It's pretty short, as it was unfinished, but it stops at a good enough place for a sweet oneshot. I wrote this like three years ago, so it's not my best, but I hope you enjoy. As always, any sort of feedback would be very much appreciated.
England could not open up to anyone anymore. It was always hard, but within the last few centuries, it had gotten a lot harder.
Many would simply say that it was because of the American Revolution. But, it's not that simple. What about all the other revolutions he suffered? No, it was not simply any one event, rather, many events over the course of his lifetime.
All the heartbreaks.
All the loss.
All the suffering.
There is a reason humans can't live forever; All the loss over centuries, over millennia, would drive them mad. But, the nations are different. Aren't they? They always have a reason to keep moving on; They must continue to represent their people. It's their duty.
But, that doesn't mean it does not take a toll on them. Physically and emotionally. Don't they suffer?
England tried to work up the strength, "America I-..." But he couldn't finish, it was too painful, the bandages to constricting. His bandaged heart sat in the base of his throat, blocking any words from escaping.
"Whacha sayin' Iggy?" America whisper-asked, casting a questioning gaze right, toward the smaller nation. They were in a movie-theatre-theater-cinema, whatever it would be called between their nationalities. America was taking England to see a movie, something to do with Nordic gods. Though, England hadn't really been watching the movie-film, mostly thinking and leaning onto America's shoulder.
England shook his head as an indication of 'nevermind' when he still could not continue.
America frowned slightly, he didn't like seeing England so awkward. He put his arm around the Brit's shoulder, causing England to blush slightly, but lean a bit more onto his shoulder. The armrest was pushed up instead of between them, so this sort of thing was no problem.
England had convinced America not to buy any snacks, drinks were fine, but not snacks. He knew that the American would buy a literal ton of food and munch loudly on it throughout the entire movie. And, England just wanted to relax. Emotions had been very hard for him lately, and he wanted to get his mind off of them. Albeit, being with America would certainly not help him to forget, but England felt that he should spend time with his lover anyway.
America had asked him out to a movie and he had agreed. Really anything that America wanted to do with him, (not in a sexual way) that worked with his schedule England agreed to. Unless, of course, it was entirely ridiculous. He really did love America, even if he could not open up to him like he wanted to. England still tried to act like a proper lover, he wanted to be one, but it was hard for him. So, he let America take the wheel, so to speak, it was just less painful that way.
Back in the current time, the movie continued on, apparently at the climax of an action scene. England began to dose off, he had been having trouble sleeping lately, and really need to catch up a few hours. It seemed that being in America's company always helped him to sleep. America smiled as England's breathing slowed in between his neck and shoulder. England was adorable in his sleep.
Unknown to America, England's bandaged heart began to return to it's proper position in his chest, brushing a few thorns along the way, causing England to cringe slightly. America mistook this for a nightmare, and kissed England's forehead. The movie would last around another half an hour, and hopefully by then, England would let him buy some snacks. America was starting to get peckish.
England woke up as America shook his arm, "Iggy, the movie's over." England opened his eyes, the lights were just starting to come on, he blinked and lifted his head off of America's shoulder. Sleeping like that had made his neck hurt slightly, and he raised a hand to rub it. "...Alright.." He mumbled, yawning.
America chuckled as he stood up and ruffled England's hair, "Dude, you're so cute~"
"Stop it..!" England frowned, sleepily swatting America's hand away.
"Oh, come on, Iggy~ Lighten up!" America smiled broadly before announcing, "I'm hungry, let's go get something to eat." He offered a hand to England. This sight was familiar to him, but from another perspective; Back in America's colonial days, England had asked America to be his little brother, offering him a hand to take him home. But now, a grown-up America offered a hand to take him to dinner. The to events were none the same, but it was nostalgic to England anyway.
He took America's hand, trying to shake off the memory. His bandaged heart protested with a sharp squeeze, but he ignored it. America pulled him up, smiling still, "So where do you wanna go to eat?"