How Do You Love Someone
The boy laid on the soft bed, glazed, forest green eyes looked to the bland, white ceiling. He wasn't looking though, he was off in his mind.
A loud bang knocked him out of his thoughts. Five to seven men crowded the small room, all but one were cops. Two held the non-cop at gunpoint, although the man seemed unfazed.
"Run!"
A simple command the boy would follow through. Jumping off the bed he felt a firm grip on his arm. The cop grasped his frail body tight, his attempts to escape in vain.
They hate you, hate your very existence.
Unlike them, I don't.
I'll never betray you.
America, no Alfred walked into the small bedroom, sorrow filling his every sense. Guilt panged his heart, the sight of the fragile Brit destroyed him.
"You'll love it!" the American shouted.
They were about to enter a haunted house, a group of about ten accompanying them.
Although when they stepped out, a certain Brit was nowhere to be found.
Camera's shows a man in a black body suit grabbing him. He cupped the nations mouth, any screams he made now muffled. No sign of where he had run off to.
Luckily upon unlocking the door England hadn't tried to follow through that last command that the man had gave. But that was it, no other improvements were shown, his own country about to give up on him.
Unlike Alfred.
"Times up America, I know you don't like it, but he's done.
"It might take just a little longer!"
"No America, has he left the bed without you telling him to."
"No."
"Has he even done anything without your command?"
"No!"
"Has he spoke!"
"N-no, but that doesn't mea...!"
"He's a lost cause Alfred, give up already."
Alfred slammed the phone down on the counter, running upstairs to Arthur's room, praying for change.
How do you love someone,
without getting hurt?
How do you love someone,
without falling in the dirt?
So far in my life
clouds have blocked the sun.
How do you love someone?
That's when he heard it, a soft, tender voice, laced with a British accent, calling his name, "Alfred."
"What is it?" the American practically ran to the bedside.
"Why-why are yo-you do-oing this?"
Alfred looked shocked, immediately hugging the poor boy, "Because I love you, Arthur."
The Brit returned the hug weakly, "I lo-ove you to-too, you blo-bloody git."
