This is probably gonna sound weird, but England is really, really, really cuddly. I know, I wasn't expecting it either! I was expecting "come now, old boy, keep a stiff upper lip. I do not have time for your shenanigans. I have to go drink tea and burn scones. Pip-pip, tally ho!" or something like that. But no, as soon as we started going out I started seeing a whole new side to him. Instead of the stiff, "Hello America," that I'd been used to, the first time we saw each other again after we started being a couple, he wrapped his arms around me and kissed me right on the lips. That's right, right in front of the whole damn world! He only said hi after that, and he called me a puppet. A puppet. Yeah, he might have had his hand up my ass a few times, but that doesn't make me a-
Um, forget I said that.
Anyway, it's been like that ever since. He likes to hold hands whenever we walk somewhere, and if we ever sit down it's like his hand is magnetically attracted to my knee. I'm not gonna lie: Sometimes it feels weird. Part of having more space geographical than Europeans means you like more personal space, you know? But I- I sort of like it. It's great to be able to look at him whenever I want and see that bright smile that's for me and only me. His hand feels almost as good in mine as his lips do against mine. And it's fun sometimes to see the jealousy on other nation's faces. A lot of them want me for my status and just as many want England for his bedroom skills (which, I'm telling you, are pretty fantastic), but they can't have us for that kind of crap. We have each other for a lot more than that. I think that's why he's so affectionate with me. He doesn't have to be afraid of getting hurt. He knows that no matter how much we try we can't force ourselves apart. Since that's true, we can both get over ourselves and enjoy simply being together.