This is England-centric, with mentonied PrUK and FrUK. (:

Well, here goes~

Love...

There were all kinds of love. Different forms, colors, sizes and weights... It had a different meaning for each and every person.

Or rather, England thought, as he gazed at the starlit sky, it had a different meaning for each person you felt it for...

The first time he had experienced love had been, when he had met France for the first time. His first big love had lasted for about 5 minutes. Until France had started to talk, to be exact. It was also the first time, they had fought. After that, every time, France had come over, they bickered. Deep down, England knew though, that there was another side to the other. He cared about him. They cared for each other. Bickering and fighting was just their way to express it most of the time. There were also times, they didn't fight. Like when England had had that cold and France had stayed by his side to help him as long as he could. Or when France had had enough of his boss and he would just sleep in one of the wide, green fields of England, who would always watch him as he did so. Those feelings of brotherly love only lasted until the first war started and the next one's only tore them further apart...

England sighed and turned to look at the moon.

The next one, that he loved was America. Of course, that was also brotherly love. America, that airhead. He had been England's first colony, his first charge. England had done everything to raise him into a well-educated gentleman. In the end though, that git had to get his independence no matter what. And France, that idiot had helped him too. But deep down, England had felt a little bit proud too, proud that America had stood up against him. The relations between them had suffered a little bit from it, but that was only for a few years, until both of them had joined the Allies. They disagreed with each other all the time. and France disagreed with both of them at the same time. But America had also given England support in several wars after he had claimed independence. Even today, England still loved America, his first real brother, even though they weren't really blood-related, but America was better than those bastards Scotland, Wales and Ireland. He hated those three, he didn't consider them family at all.

And then there was Canada, much like America, he had always been considered as a real brother by England. And even though he forgot about him a lot, the island nation still loved the Northern American nation. His second brother, the silent and gentle one, that looked so much like America... Canada had lived with France, before England had taken him away. But Canada had still continued to talk French from time to time. The French soon took another form, that was called the Quebecois or whatever, England didn't mind him being particulary French, most of the civilization talked English anyways. Canada had eventually become independent too, with less conflicts than America. And after years, they were on good terms again. That was all that counted after all.

The last one on the list of the one's, he considered his brothers, was Sealand. The little brat, Sealand, that he just couldn't hate, no matter how annoying he acted towards him. These days he barely ever saw him, because the micro-nation spent more time with Finland and Sweden recently. That was okay, as long as England saw him from time to time.

England shivered. It had become really cold on the front porch. So unlike...

The heat. When he had first really fallen in love, it was at first sight. With some he hadn't expected to fall for. He had only heard from him once before. France had mentioned him briefly, when they were younger. He had described him as loud, obnoxious and self-centered, yet he had said that said guy was also one of his two best friends. England had never seen the guy until one time he had come and asked England to ally with him. France's description had been accurate, but... England thought, that there was more to him. Prussia wasn't only self-centered, loud and obnoxious... he was also intelligent and could be sweet if he wanted to. England felt drawn to him often. The first time they allied, they had become good friends, the second time it turned into something more. It was at the third time, that they had called it a relationship and the fourth time, they broke up. They had always sided against France, it was ironic really. He had had his first time in many ways with Prussia. But in the end, they decided it was better to stay friends, best friends, because Prussia couldn't stand the fact, that England's eyes would always follow someone else...

Where he was right now?

"Arthur, it's cold outside, you should come back inside..."

He was... in France.

"Five more minutes, frog."

Because these days, he had felt himself drawn to the nation of love. France had started to try and woo him these days and England had actually given him a chance. They still bickered, but were far from being serious with their insults towards each other. Yes, he loved France. The island nation hadn't even expected the way France acted when they were alone. The frog could be so caring and sweet. He almost never groped him... almost... and he didn't force anything on England, even though the frog was more than happy to comply if England was up for some bed activities.

England couldn't help but laugh. He stood up and walked inside.

Yes love expressed itself in many ways, but... you just had to find the one love that wouldn't die, no matter what you did to it.