Ever since he was born, or formed, whatever the term is for countries, England has mostly taken care of America. Teaching him, raising him, England was similar to a big brother to him.

Eventually, America would gain independence as his own country. Why?

Ugh, another night of lectures and 'advice' from England. I'm practically grown up now! I'm not some dumb kid anymore.

But for some strange reason, my thoughts of him mostly aren't of annoyance. And even stranger, I'm almost constantly thinking about England. Even when I'm focused on something else, he lingers, a constant presence with me. Why? Why can't I stop thinking about the way he laughs occasionally, or when he rarely smiles, how it manages to make my day? Our relationship was always a brotherly one, with him as a mentor to me.

Why do I suddenly want more than that? Why do I want to hold him close and hold his hand and…

Oh God. I'm in love with England, aren't I?

And he sees me as a brother, a younger one at that.

What do I do? Ruin the relationship we have currently?

Destroy the brotherly relationship? Gain my independence as a country, as his equal, as someone that won't need to depend on him fully?

Prove myself to be someone he could love back?

For God's sake, this needs to stop.

I know it's wrong. He's like my little brother!

What am I even thinking?

And why do I keep falling deeper in love?

He's grown up, and I can tell he's thinking of independence.

Is it bad I want to keep him here, protect him, love him?

Even if he doesn't have feelings for me the same way I do, I would still keep him with me, make sure he's safe from wars, and the cruelty of the other nations.

Maybe, though I shouldn't hope, he'd love me back, someday.

But I doubt it. It's foolish to think like that.

After all, why would he care about some old country like me?

"England I'm sorry, but I need to be independent!"

"Why? I can protect you! This is dumb!"

I doubt I'll ever forget America's face that day. It wasn't angry or vengeful, as I would expect, it was almost sad. Filled with longing. Like he didn't want to do this. But he had to.

Strangely enough, America's face that day was still filled with love. But not like the way he was when he was a young nation, but true, adult, passionate love. Like England's own suffering.

Ever since that day, England never quite understood his expression. It confused him and it took much longer than it should've to realize truly why the younger nation left him.

It was raining, perhaps a sign that this was a mistake. But, America persisted and traveled all the way to England's house with a bouquet of white lilies, and a plan in his mind already.

Knock knock.

"Hello? Who is it?"

"It's me."

"What are you doing here? It's raining and it's nearly 12!"

"I have something important to say. Something I should've say years ago."

"Y-Yes?"

"England, I love you. I have for years now. The main reason I gained independence from you was so possibly, perhaps, that you would see me as your equal, and maybe, in some small chance in hell, love me back. I-I'm sorry for waking you. I'll leave, I'm sorry for everything."

America, on the other hand, would never forget the few seconds of self-doubt, fear, anxiety, as he waited for a response. He'll never forget the way that as he turned to walk away, at last, he felt England's hand grip his and pull him back, their lips colliding. That one perfect moment of completion.

"Don't you ever dare apologize or leave or- Oh God! What am I saying?"

"I won't ever leave. not again."

There were certain things that both of them would never forget. But not all were bad.

Sunny afternoons in bright countrysides, gentle walks by the Thames,

Special dinners, travels, exploring places that they hadn't even been before.

But everyday was a new memory.

Every smile, joke, loving word.

There was no need to live in the past.

After all, the future and present were much more exciting.

fin.