AN: My lil sis gave me this idea when we're listening to some song (I forgot what song is it, it's a long time ago) So you can imagine how shock I am to find this in the back of my folder, incomplete. It still is now, but I want to try to complete it, to improve my writing. So here's the first part.
Whenever I was given a task, I made sure to do best because of the smile and complements given from him when I've done a good job or when I lied that his cooking is great. It never fails to brighten my day even if he isn't here often; it's a small price to pay to see his smile.
Until one time, I woke up in the middle of the night the day before he said he would arrive and saw him coming in the house wrapped in bandages, soaked with his blood. I may be young but that doesn't mean that I'm clueless to what's happening outside of my house. I know that he is trying to protect me.
But I'm terrified.
I'm terrified knowing that he gets hurt because of me; I'm terrified England will die. I know that we can't die that easily but I just can't help but fear that he will collapse sooner or later. Leaving me all alone, I know that's selfish of me but even a hero has feelings.
I don't want that to happen!
The next morning I confronted him about the wounds, as usual, he brushed it off saying he's fine and thanks me for asking. No matter what happens to him, he would always reassure me that he is fine when clearly his not. From that point onward I work hard on becoming stronger. I ask him to teach me everything there is to learn about being stronger. Even when he left for his country, I never cried, I pretended that I'm not sad to see him go. Only when I'm sure he's a good distance from the house, I cried, begging him not to leave. That night I prayed next to my bed, I prayed to the Gods to keep him safe until I become stronger, to give me more time.
A few hundred years has passed and I never fail to pray every night before I went to bed. England still haven't visited like he promised, at least I have received letters from him, knowing that he's fine. But it always has a very faint smell of gunpowder and blood, I felt sick knowing that there's a possibility it's his blood. I became more determined to get stronger faster.
AN: Very short, I know. I'm working on my other story so this won't be updating soon. If I ever did continue writing, it will probability only have the front part. (I do that for every chapter for the story I'm writing.)