England stood in his living room staring at the wall in front of him. His back was up against his floral antique couch upon which rested Canada, who was visiting for the weekend before their world meeting, and was deep in sleep. He was dreaming. Maybe even about something nice. He didn't know. Maybe he wasn't even dreaming at all and all Canada saw was blackness in his mind as he slept. Maybe, but he preferred to think that he was dreaming. Dreams were nice, they gave you hope.

England let out a sigh and sat down still leaning against the back of the couch. He gazed upwards a little bit. His head coming to rest against the back of the couch with a soft "thunk". His eyes stayed focused on the wall before him.

England let out a soft breath before speaking out loud to himself. "Hey Canada, would you like to hear about my feelings?"

England smiled a little. He was glad that Canada was still fast asleep on the couch behind him or what he was going to be saying would have been really embarrassing.

"You know, Canada, I have liked you for a very long time. I can't even really remember when I first realized I like you. I think it may have even been way back when you first grew up to look like an adult, way back in the 1900's. Do you remember that day? It was just after America had left. I had been piss drunk that day, trying to drink enough to forget about what he said to me. I had been trying to drown my troubles out, childishly trying to avoid my problem, when I should have been trying to figure it all out rationally. And you had been so kind to me that day. You helped me get up onto my feet and led me home. You tried to sober me up and think about my problem for me. You didn't have to have done that. You could have let me rot. But, you didn't. Thank you so very much for all of that."

England's breath caught in his throat, he cleared it, embarrassed a bit that his eyes were starting to tear up slightly. a few drops escaped to run down his cheeks. Impatiently, he wiped them away with the back of his hand.

England shifted his legs so that he was more comfortable, one leg going straight out from him and the other leg bent, just a bit, as if he were about to read a favorite novel.

His hands came down from their crossed position across his chest for his right hand to lay in his lap and for his left hand to then become balanced upon his bent knee.

"I really don't know how to say this, I never have been very good at this type of thing, and even if I am not too sure about saying this to you face to face quite yet, I would still like to say this to you, Canada.

England then went to stand up turning around and then leaning out over the top of his couch to look down upon Canada's peaceful sleeping face.

"Canada, I think that I might just love you."