Title: I'll follow your smile
Summary: I can't tell I love her. But I do. I really do. / Sort of a Drabble, yknow. PortUk, England/Fem!Portugal
Warnings: Fem!Portugal was used in this. Do not like, do not flame. Da?
You're all that I dream about, but the only question with me now, is do I creep you out?
He couldn't bring himself to think of something, someone, other than her. The saying 'someone stole your heart' was no joke. At least, Arthur didn't feel like it was at the moment.
It wasn't only the beauty, no. She was rather masculine even. Not in her features, of course, but in the way she dressed. She didn't prepare herself like a lady at all and, if it hadn't been for the long hair and the red lips, he would've never guessed she was a female.
She wore no make-up. There were bags under her eyes. Her eyes were of a very bright blue, blue like the sky reflected on the sea she loved so much. He could tell she didn't like Britain; for God's sake, even he would prefer Portugal and its sunny weather and heat to Britain's rainy and cold ones. He couldn't love his country less than he did hers, and he didn't. But he probably loved her more than he loved himself.
After each meeting, he'd follow her home, or at least her temporary home. Probably a hotel room or another country's house.
He could tell she was happy to see everyone in the beginning of the meetings; how Brazil had grown to be one of the world's biggest economies; how all the Asians, despite the problems with the politicians in their own countries, seemed happy; how all the members of the ex-USSR were now enjoying their freedom of speech, ideas and ideals. And she'd bless them all, and many others, with her shining smile and good manners. She'd charm them. Arthur couldn't tell if she knew he was among one of them.
Would she ever be happy in seeing him too? He longed to see her smile. He longed to see her smile at him, delighting him with her happiness.
Who'd suspect, though? An old ally, who had done nothing but hurt her in a recent past. Could she bring herself to forgive him, he didn't know. He had little to no hope.
And while he thought of everything she had shared and was yet to share with Spain and all the other countries who claimed to love her, like her, he couldn't stop bringing himself to think: No one will ever love you like I do.
No one will ever know.
So, gaiseeeeeeees :D long story short this was inspired by Weird Al's 'Do I creep you out'. I thought it suited the pairing, or at least Arthur and his (love for) unrequited loves. He looks fairly pessimistic to me, but perhaps that's just me seeing things. It's almost 3 am here gaises, I'm sorry.
R e v i e w !