It was a typical rainy day in the country of England. Arthur, the personification of England, was having a quiet day. Sitting by the fire in his living room, catching up on his knitting while listening to the radio.
It was a little secret of his, but he liked to listen to France's radio show. Even if he didn't like the man, he had to admit, he liked to hear the advice France gave to his listeners, and the letters he got. Some of it was pretty funny, especially if the advice he gave was horrible.
"And now, it's time for me to read out all the letters you lovely viewers have sent me."
England smiled. It was always his favourite part of the show. He had even once debated whether he should send a letter, just to see what France would say, but decided against it. He didn't want people to know he listened to the show. He'd never be able to live it down.
"First off, we have a letter sent all the way from America! How exciting. It reads:
"Dear France,
There is this guy I like, and I want to confess to him, but I don't know how. He always insults me, and doesn't seem to like me, and I feel like if I confess, he'll get mad at me or think I'm joking. He's kinda tsundere, so what do I do?
From,
America."
England looked up from his knitting. America listened to the radio? Also, what was up with that letter? It sounded like he was describing-
"What? America, you should know better than to put your name on these things, I knew you were stupid, but I didn't think you were that stupid."
Immediately after saying that, France got a phone call.
"Hello?"
"What the hell, France? Why can't I put my name on the letter?"
"Because, it's supposed to be anonymo- "
"I don't care. Just answer my question. I really need to know."
France sighed. He rubbed his forehead and said "I don't know."
"What?"
"I don't know how to answer your question."
"How can you not know how to answer it? You're the country of love! You should know!" America exclaimed.
"Because, there is someone I like, who sounds like the one you explained in your letter, and I have no idea how to confess to him."
"Are you talking about England?" America asked, being smart for once.
England's eyes widened. France liked him?! He was about to be shocked even more though, with what came next.
"Yes."
"What the hell!? I like England!"
'WHAT?! You like your own brother!?"
"I don't think of him as my brother anymore, so it's ok."
"No! It doesn't work like that! You might not think of him as your brother, but he still does! That's disgusting!"
In anger, America hung up. France sighed, frustrated, running a hand through his hair.
"Well, after that lovely conversation, let's go on with the show. There are still some letters I haven't read out yet."
England tuned the rest of the show out. France and America liked him? He couldn't get over it. His enemy, and his brother… he leaned back in his chair, running a hand through his hair. He put his knitting away, not in the mood to continue. What was he going to do with this information?