"I wish you knew how much I care about you."
Arthur turned his head to the right where the words had come from, confused and a bit surprised look in his eyes. Just like almost all of the nations, he and Francis had come to spend some time at the local beach, where he now was lying, few meters apart from the Frenchman.
"What do you mean, frog?" came the answer, the Brit trying to make his voice sound irritated.
"I'm just thinking. I've never really told you. Maybe I've given some clues, but I've never been brave enough to tell how I really feel."
The Frenchman was looking up at the sky, his cerulean blue eyes shining at the dim light of the stars.
"Seriously… What the hell are you talking about?"
Francis turned his head to look at the Englishman, a small smile tugging onto his lips.
"Je t'aime, Arthur."
At first Arthur was surprised, then happy and then sad. Yes, he did felt the same way, but there was no way Francis could be serious. He was probably playing with the poor Englishman's feelings, right?
"Hmph. Save your lies for someone who believes. You are not more than a liar, always sleeping around. And even if you were telling the truth, I would not ever love someone like you." The words were harsh and the way he said it made them even harsher, much harsher than he had meant them to be.
There was a hurtful expression on Francis' eyes. One could say that it was possible to see how his heart shattered into million pieces.
Arthur opened his mouth, desperate to find some words to fix what he had done, but the French turned his look back at the sky. His eyes were shining again, but it looked like he had tears in his eyes. Then those beautiful eyes closed, one small tear falling down Francis' cheek.
"Oh my god… I'm sorry…," Arthur tried to say, his voice hitching his throat and just some muffled murmurs escaping his lips.
For a moment he just laid there, staring at the other one like waiting him to open his eyes and tell that he was forgiven. But that didn't happen. And he understood it very well. He had once again been a way too stubborn.
"Francis…," the Brit murmured. He stood up and walked over to Francis, laying back down right next to him. He leaned his head on the other's chest, his eyes closing.
"I'm sorry… I didn't mean what I said, it was stupid. I… I love you too," he mumbled quietly, hoping that the French heard.
And considering the wide smile on Francis' lips, it seemed like he heard the words. Strong arms were wrapped around Arthur, keeping the Brit warm and safe.
"Apology accepted, mon petit lapin."
There was a kiss on the top of messy haired head and a nose nuzzling a neck that smelled like roses and red wine. And what was more important; there was two men that were happier than ever before.