Father
You sat in a small table at Arthur's house. You loved drinking tea with your best friend.
England couldn't help but smile at your cuteness. Even as a war veteran, you still kept you innocence.
His America had left him, and barely visited him. You would go every Sunday, at tea time, to check if he was doing okay.
You would tell each other everything: Economy, problems with other countries, everything. Well… at least you would tell England everything.
He would never admit that he wanted to be more than a fatherly figure. That he wanted to love you.
But with other nations in the way, who would notice him? Certainly, not you.