Note from author: Yes, this is a rom-com, and yes this probably doesn't stand out much in a USUK fan base full of rom-coms but I challenge myself to make this unique and worth your while!

I loved writing this so I hope you enjoy reading it!

Um… that's all I have to say really.

ON WITH THE STORY!

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Prologue

Spending a week… whoever thought a single week could have changed so many things. Well, alright, there have been many times in the many years that I've lived where, admittedly, I've caused my country to convert from a peaceful place to a war zone in the space of a week- sometimes in less time than that. So you could say this sort of change was the least troublesome seeing as I've faced wars, terrifying kings and queens, and even epidemics such as the bloody Black Plague.

Love? Yes, should be easy to face. Not terrifying at all.

… alright it is a tad bit unnerving.

I never thought I could feel it again after so many scarring and terrible ends over the years- mortals were always the easiest to love but all had the same depressing truth- they would grow old one day and I would live on without them. But a country? My history in romance between nations is rather a lot smaller than those with normal people. In fact, under five. I never really saw any point or interest in involving myself with people I've grown up with, fought with, fought against, and… well, raised myself. Yes yes, I know that sounds terribly wrong saying that but somehow I've got myself in that situation. I suppose I shouldn't care, really, seeing as those times are long behind me now. Long behind us. But it's harder than you think to forget…

That includes the week's events, and the days that followed; because oh no, a week wasn't enough time to mortify me into never wanting to go to the United States ever again, apparently. I don't think I'll ever forget them. They'll haunt me forever. If I could have a pound coin for every time something embarrassing happened to me… I would quite fancy buying myself a new spell book experimenting with the theme of torture. I'm sure France would be delighted to oblige in being my guinea pig. He deserves it after all.

It all started on that one Sunday in June. I'm sure you'd like to see it from where it all started, rather than listening to me blathering on.

Alright, alright… I suppose that would be more desirable.

But this tale is going to be uncomfortable for both you and I from quite early on. Or perhaps just for me. Nevertheless…

Let's start from the beginning.