Oneshot #3/365 of my goal this year ;)... I think I can, I think I can!

Anyway, this is kind of how I imagine England feels... especially since I ship both USUK and FrUk almost equally (USUK is winning by a bit, but that's because it's my OTP) Anywho, maybe that's just me.

R&R

Disclaimer: I dun own nutin'

England doesn't realize what's going on. Or maybe he does, but he just pretends it's not happening. And who could blame him? To be loved by two, to love two people infinitely back, is that not the hardest thing a man can be given? For all he can do, is decide, and no matter what he chooses, someone he loves will be hurt.

Who should he hurt? The blue eyed wonder of a nation, the golden superpower, who has only left him once and has been back ever since? Or should he hurt the gentle yet strong man, who clads himself in woman's clothes and prances around like a little slut, and yet… through all of these thousands of years has caught him when he fell, has been there with him every step of the way even though they hated each other sometimes (most of the time) and didn't agree on very many things (on anything).

Or should he choose no one? Tell them both off, isolate himself yet again… but then he'd be hurting two people not one. How is that any better? But then at least, something whispered inside of him, it'll be fair.

The only other person who could possibly understand him is Russia, but he's not going out for drinks with that guy. And in a way, he envied Russia. While he may have to choose between Ukraine and Belarus (and sometimes China… but not always), he also was able to take out his heart, and choose not to love. Oh! How England wished he could rip out his warm and bloody heart, to make himself stop feeling, that he would not have to live with this horror every day of his life. For if he did not love, this would not be a difficult choice. He could deny them both, and feel no pain. He could even pick one to be his, based solely on political and economic reasons.

But England has a heart. And he isn't willing to commit suicide either, by ripping it out. Because if it's one thing he's learned from his years on this planet, it's that it's not right to give up on life. He's seen too many soldiers, too many people die in vain, and he knew just how valuable life really was.

But then…. Then, if England's alive, he has to make a decision. Or maybe he doesn't? What if he just keeps seeing America and France both? But that's wrong, that little voice whispers again, you can't do that. And what if they both get tired of him? What if they both move on? He doesn't think he can deal with that much rejection. As much as he tries to deny it, he needs that pervy frog and that stupid yank. They were the light to his darkness, and the only thing that kept his country alive. They inspired him, made him happy… how could he pick one?

And yet, they were so different, the choice should be obvious. But it wasn't, oh no, it wasn't. And this choice, this decision that he held, the fate of three nations in the palm of his hand… was too much. He didn't want to decide the fate of the world, he'd been on center stage long enough. He just wanted to disappear, somewhere where there were no decisions, and no wars.

And he wanted to take the warm, kind man with the blue eyes. But which one?