Author's Note: Short thing. I was inspired by a few pics and wrote this :D I'm sorry if it's crappy or weird or hard to determine their relationship and whatever. I wrote this for my own enjoyment lol
Disclaimer: The only thing I own is this piece of crap. Though... one man's junk is another man's treasure, right? :D
(I hope you) Enjoy!
He was walking around in the halls when he suddenly heard a beautiful sound coming from one of the hotel rooms. It was the sound of a violin, creating a lovely piece of music. He walked quietly towards the door and opened it a wee bit, peeking inside. His breath hitched from the sight before him.
There, in the middle of the room, were England. He looked so relaxed and had the most peaceful expression he had ever seen on that usual scowling face. A gentle smile was plastered on his face and his vibrant green eyes were hidden behind closed eyelids. The rays of the setting sun shone warmly on him, making him look like a creature not from this world. The rays made him shine. His sandy blond hair glowed golden and his white shirt shifted in yellow and golden nuances as he moved gracefully on the carpeted shadow moved with him for each step he took, dancing with him. It was a truly beautiful sight indeed.
He started breathing again as this man, not England, it couldn't be, turned around. England couldn't move that gracefully, England couldn't create such beautiful sounds with a violin, England wasn't a God, no he wasn't... But it was England. An England that probably no one had ever seen before.
He snapped out of his thoughts as the music suddenly got louder, only to drop instantly. Now he had to lean against the door just to hear the soft sounding notes and vibratos. The volume rose to a comfortable sound as England once again turned around, now facing him. His eyes were half-open and they looked so distant. He weren't in that room. No, he was somewhere else, somewhere he wanted to be. Perhaps in the past, when America and himself were still his dear colonies. Perhaps in a world he himself had created, where he was loved for who he is.
England just didn't understand. He didn't understand that even if he and America weren't his colonies anymore we still thought of him as a brother-figure, an idol. He didn't understand that he already is loved, by many. ...Okay, maybe not that many, but he's not alone, oh no. He had admired England for a very long time and he will in the future too. But England is England. A stubborn blockhead, to be honest. He's intelligent, yes, but when it comes to emotions and feelings... simply a blockhead.
He turned his eyes to England once again. He had stopped moving and was just standing there. He raised the bow and brought it to the violin once again, starting to play long and soft notes.
He had seen enough. He slide down the wall so he sat against it. He closed his violet eyes and thought of a picture that would forever be etched into his mind, a picture of England looking like a serene God. A gentle smile graced his lips as he just listened to that wonderful music created by no other than his dear England.
Kraj.(God I love the fact that I can many languages :D)
