A/N: So, in honor of Independence Day, I've decided to write a quick America/England fic. I'll be right back onto Recognition right after this. :3
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Why America insisted on celebrating his birthday with such a noisy thing was beyond England. He didn't like fireworks. They were loud, bright, and quite frankly, he liked to go to bed at a reasonable hour, and people shooting off fireworks at all hours of the night was not his idea of "reasonable."
He also didn't like the huge barbeques America held. There were always far too many people, eating far too many hamburgers, and getting far too drunk. Like the fireworks, they were loud and unreasonable. If not for America dragging him there, he would have had no part of them.
And it wasn't like this was remembered as a great day for him. It brought back painful memories of the Revolution, of America leaving him. It made him remember that battle, how he had broken down, unable to shoot him and the look of pity in America's eyes as he stared down at him. No, today was not a happy day for him.
But despite all of these things, he loved America and would be nowhere else on his birthday but right beside him as he ate too much and got overly excited about the fireworks. He would bite his tongue and smile honestly, because he was happy America existed. When no one was looking, he snuck up and kissed the younger man on the cheek.
"Happy birthday, America."
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Okay, there ya go. Just a quick little drabble. Hope everyone has a great Fourth!
-K.H. Wright