England was bored. He was sitting down doing work when it was a perfectly good day outside. He sighed wishing for some sort of distraction, when he heard a knock at the door. Ok that was awesome timing. Oh god he was starting to sound like America. He opened the door and said American was there, looking extremely embarrassed. Classic case of speak of the devil England thought. Still he showed America in and followed him into the living room. After sitting down on opposite ends of the couch and a few minutes of silence England spoke.
"Can I help you with anything?" he asked.
America fidgeted nervously, pulling out a guitar from beside him. 'How did I not notice that' England scolded himself for his lack of observation.
America coughed, as if to bring him out of his thoughts. "I wanted to sing you a song" he mumbled; face getting redder by the minute.
"….Oh. Ummmm go ahead" England blushed. Dammit! How did that idiot manage to get him to react this way?
America strummed on his guitar for a couple of seconds before deciding that it was in tune. He started to play a melody. A couple of seconds into the song he started to sing.
Why do I, choose the things I choose?
Why do I, always find some lame excuse?
"Because you're an idiot" England mumbled. America ignored him and continued.
Why do I, not realize what I could do?
Oh, I wish I knew the reason why,
Why do you, get that sad look on your face?
Why do you, pull away from my embrace?
Why do you, see all my faults and my mistakes?
"You bloody know why, git" but his tone softened as he took in the words of the song.
Oh, I wish you knew the reason why,
But I do don't I? Damn America making him second guess himself.
Why do we, treat each other like we do?
It's like we never even try,
Why can't we, get back to the love we knew?
Oh why oh Iggy why?
Bloody hell, these were good question. But does America even feel the same way about him? Does America love him the same way he loves America?
Why do we, have to play those same old games?
Why do we, run away from who's to blame?
Can't we see, to lose this love would be a shame?
America leaned it a bit closer to England his breath brushing against England's face, earning a blush from the older nation.
Oh I wish we knew the reason why,
America leaned in closer still. England's face was as red as the colour of their flags.
Oh I wish we knew the reason why.
America's lips finally reached England's and they shared a small, sweet kiss. When America pulled back, England could see Americas face was just as red as his, but a small smile was still plastered on his face.
"So what do you think?" he asked quietly. England was stunned; the great hero America had turned shy. He allowed himself a sly grin before saying.
"It was bloody perfect"
America visibly relaxed at that, but suddenly his face became one of deep thought, he crossed his arms, lifted an eyebrow and asked.
"The kiss or the song?"
England put on a fake thinking pose, copying the one America had just done.
"Both" he eventually answered "although, I do believe the kiss was far more enjoyable; we should do it again sometime" He grinned.
Americas returning smile was a smile that outshone the sun.