Hello! Yes I am still alive...just! I am sorry it has taken me so long to up-date. It is just that Xmas got very hectic for me (my nan ended up in hospital, then there was a family drama, plus going away on holiday) Then when I get back down to Wales, my best friend, Lolo-loco, (look her up, her work is amazing!) who I did this RP with, came and stayed with me for a week, so I couldn't work on this chapter. Then when she went home I had to revise. Theoretically I should be revising now as my exams are on Tuesday and Wednesday, but I couldn't concentrate! So I decided to give you the next chapter! So now this A/N is getting long, please enjoy!

Disclaimer: Nope...still don't own Hetalia!

Later that night

England grabbed two baskets and shoved one into America's hands. "Come on wanker, we need to go now, or it will be too bloody late to pick the flowers" England said to America as he walks out the door and towards the forest.

America pouted and took the basket then waited for England to lead way. When England is a little way in front America starts talking in high pitched mocking voice as he follows behind. "Come on wanker, neh neh neh NEH neh neh..."

England hears him a shakes his head as he starts walking into the forest. "You may want to keep it down tosser, or you could wake up an animal you don't want to meet in the bloody dark." He said over his shoulder. "And don't take the bloody piss out of me or I will leave you in here."

America blushes slightly knowing he was caught. "Woopse he heard me." He says then snorts. "Ha! Please, I swung bison when I was a kid; I think I'll be fine! ...But yeah please don't leave me in here!" He runs to catch up with England to make sure he isn't left behind.

They walk deeper into the forest and then England steps off the well worn path into the tangle of trees. England turns to America. "Right git, here you have to follow my every bloody footstep. There are holes here that are bloody deep and even though you won't bloody die from the fall, no one will be able to get you out." He speaks in a warning tone, hoping that America will actually listen to him for once, and then starts walking carefully through the underbrush.

America looks around nervously but follows England's footfalls exactly. "Uhh, this... seems like a lot of trouble for tea flowers... y'know... huge pitfalls of death and all. Is Yao, like, PAYING you to do this or something? And whattya mean I won't be able to get out? You don't have any rope or anything?"

England looks over his shoulder at America. "No, I don't have any rope, because the pits are so deep that no rope could get you out, plus you would be unconscious for several days." He explains calmly. "And you know all those medicines for when we have like economic colds and war wounds?"

America stared at England wide eyed. "N-no way... these are like, bottomless pits!? ...with bottoms!? Man, how come everything weird is in YOUR country...?" He muttered distracted by images of himself falling down one of these holes. He looked back up at England. "Oh, those things? Yeah you gave some to me a few times...what about them?"

England fights his instinct to face palm, and decides to just ignore America's first ramblings, knowing that conversation would go nowhere, and concentrate on America's last question. "Though they are mostly made up of the herbs from Yao's country, the main ingredient, the one that allows it to work on us nations is only found in one place." He says slowly, so that America can actually catch what he is saying. "And if you bloody ask where that place is I will push you into one of the pits myself." England mutters almost to himself.

America has a blank face for a few moments, processing the information England had just provided. "...where- -? OOOOHHHHHH! No way really? Cool! Hahaha I never knew that! I thought it was just some suped up meds...which I guess it is! Hahaha! So you can only get it here? Looks like your country's good for something after all! Hahaha!" He exclaims loudly when he works out what England has just told him.

England spins round suddenly and grabs America's shoulders, hissing, "Keep it down will you bloody moron! We are in wolf pack territory right now, and they don't like anyone on their bloody territory!" England lets out a breath slowly, as if to calm himself, and then continues walking.

America is shocked into silence when England grabs his shoulders, and has to take a second to compose himself before his mind works well enough to reply. He starts to talks much quieter than he had before. "Sh-shit dude, sorry I just..." He trails off with a sigh. "Anyway, I thought you didn't have wolves here anymore?" He asked slightly confused.

"Unfortunately this is the one and only place wolves live." England said quietly. "I kind of took a liking to them when I was young and insisted that at least one pack should live here." He sighs and a sad look crosses his face, "never thought their descendents would turn out like this."

America's brow furrows as he looks down slightly; also noticing the other man's tone. "So you chose the one most important place for our resources? That was a little short sighted don't ya think?" He said slowly and seriously, then in his usual tone said, "So were you like, raised by wolves? Heheheh"

England looks back to scowl at America, "No, we are only passing the border; the flowers are right in the centre of the forest where..." he trails off and shakes head. "Never mind. And no I wasn't raised by wolves you git. They were just a great way of stopping my brothers teasing me." England looks around. "Okay, we are nearly there, that's the clearing there look. He points ahead to a gap in the trees.

America seemed to be completely oblivious to what England just said, "Oh well fair enough, heheh ok ok, but I can totally imagine it. You being raised by wolves." America then looks down at the ground not wanting to look at England when he said the next bit. "So... you collecting these flowers made all that medicine you gave me when I needed it...? Uh... th-thanks... I guess..." America then clears his throat and looks up to where England is pointing. "Well, thank God, I don't think I could take much more of this!"

England looks over shoulder at America when he stuttered the thanks, and gives him a tiny smile. "You're the first nation to thank me. And yes we are here." They step out into a clearing filled with the light of a full moon. Covering the ground are flowers that shimmer a bright gold. Unseen by America are the faeries that flit between each flower tending to them, and making them glow brighter. Some of the faeries look up at the nation's entrance and simply smile to England and go back to what they were doing. England reaches into his basket and pulls out some shears, turning to America. "Come on Alfred, we need to fill these baskets within the next hour or they will all have wilted"

America had averted his eyes again when England had looked at him, instead focusing on a tree he seems to really like the look of. Though he didn't see the smile, he heard the tone of the other man's voice, making his face heat up slightly against his will. "That's surprising, seems like a pretty important thing to me..." Looks out into the clearing at the strangest flowers he's ever seen, almost seeming to shine in the moonlight, his eyes flicker to the man in front of him, kneeling to harvest the golden flowers; his crisp white dress shirt illuminating him in the dulled darkness, his pale blonde hair like a halo above him... America shakes his head quickly and hurriedly takes out a pair of shears from his own basket, striding to an area slightly away from England so he can still talk to him without seeing his face. America clears his throat slightly "SO. How come these things wilt in such a short time anyway? Will they be ok once we've picked them?"

England looked up at the other blonde's voice and stares for a moment at the way the glittering flowers reflect in his blue eyes. His eyes trace the curve of America's neck and back as he leans forward to cut the flowers, his eyebrows crinkled slightly as he asked the question. England notices a few of the faeries giggling as they watch America and he shakes his head at them, exasperated. He then turns back to America. "What? Oh, well they...um. Well..." Pauses and decided to answer the second question. "They will be fine. If you pick them now when they are in full bloom then they stay exactly the same way for a whole month! In the old days some healers would use the flowers as a way to light up the path to their doors so that if anyone needed their help at night they would always find them."

America refuses himself to look at the other man, trying to keep his focus on the task at hand; what was wrong with him today? He thinks that England must be trying to concentrate too as he hears him stutter; he doesn't blame him; these things were surprisingly hard to pick. "Huh. No kidding... so these'll be good for a month? What, do you grind them down into paste with one of those little bowl and stick things?" He asks as he thinks about the old healer using the luminescent flower to light people's way to help. "Sooo... these healers... would just help anyone who came along?" He asked curiously.

England laughs slightly as he works, trying not to look up at America. But he was unable to stop his eyes drifting to him every so often. "No, I don't just do that. There is an ancient method that only I knew for a long time. When I discovered how Yao's herbs could help with the mixture I taught him how to do it. It is a hard process to master." He thinks back to the days of the old healers and smiles softly. "Yes...they were gifted women in the ways of medicine, well ahead of their time. They would help anyone, sometimes not even for any pay. But," England's face clouds over as he recalls the dark days. "Soon people became scared of them. They called them witches. People the women had healed for nothing told stories of how they had been enchanted. That's when the witch hunts began." He looked down sadly at the flower he was holding in his hand.

Though he tried, America couldn't help but smile when he heard England laugh, and allows himself a quick glance before getting back to work. He smiled at the story of the healers, but soon it starts to fall as he thought of how they were betrayed by the people they helped. To make it worse, memories of the Salem witch trials bubbled to the front of his memory. Hearing the forlorn tone of the older man's voice had America successfully reading the atmosphere for once, and he decided to just hum an acknowledgment and quickly change the subject. "So what makes these things glow anyway? Some sort of chemical reaction in the pollen?" America couldn't help but let his scientific curiosity take over. "So you were the only one who knew how to do the whole ancient method thing? That's pretty cool! How long did it take you both to learn?"

Glancing up at America, England realised the other blonde was trying to take his mind off of the subject, so he answered the questions gratefully. "Don't bloody laugh, but its magic alright? I know you don't believe, and do not say that here! But these Isles are the cradle of magic and this is the one place they grow because they are always tended by the faeries." He said this in a rush to get it over with. Then moved onto America's other question. "And it wasn't as cool as you think when the other nations found out. They were constantly demanding me to make the medicine for them. It took Yao a while to be able to make the medicine without my help, nearly a decade! And I think I always had the knowledge." Here England shrugged and looked at the man across the clearing from him. "You know, it's my country so I guess its instinct to know what to do with the resources here."

America smiles and appreciates the change of subject and happily listens to everything that England says, letting himself look over and listen; though he raises an eyebrow in amusement as soon as magic is mentioned. He watches England finish his explanation in a rush of embarrassment, rather liking the way his face darkens a couple shades as he looks at the flowers in his basket with newfound determination; honestly, it's kinda cute, America feels his own face heat up slightly. America is happy that he can see the other man like this; for once not yelling at him furiously, not that he minds that much either; he hilarious when he's angry. But here, in the moonlight, illuminated by these unique golden flowers – bringing a whole new light to the man – his green eyes darting around him with concentration, warm with the colours around him, almost sparkling with 30 different shades of green. Not that America noticed or anything! He cleared his throat again. "Yeah whatever dude, I don't- -" But a firm look from the other makes him falter and quickly shut his mouth. "Uh.. right." he decides to leave him to it, it IS a pretty strange place after all, looking at the man in front of him, and he supposes anything is possible. He moved on to the next thing England had said. "Yeah I guess everyone goin after you would get annoying, no wonder you didn't tell me heheh... " Their eyes meet at England's last statement and he smiles. "Yeah... I get what you mean with that one."

England gazed into those intense blue eyes that seem to shine brighter in the light of the golden flowers, and he realised how cute America is with a slight flush to his cheeks. He tilted his head slightly as he realised that he has never seen the blonde in front of him so serious and intent on listening to him since he was a tiny colony. It brought back fond memories and he looked down at his basket realising that it was full. He looked up at the moon, whose light was shining off America's hair and realised that it was about to pass over the clearing. He sighed, looking down at the flowers as their golden light began to slowly fade. He never liked it here when the flowers wilted. He stood up. "Come on Alfred we have enough flowers to last Yao a while. Let's head back before it's too late at night."

Shifting slightly America felt slightly uncomfortable under England's gaze, like he was naked, as though those ancient green eyes were staring right though him. The younger man regarded him quietly, kneeling on the ground, so refined, and head tilted slightly to the side, as if studying him; but his expression was so soft, so warm, it made his chest ache. He tried to calm himself but his blood was pounding through his veins, and he realised he couldn't tear his gaze from him, even when the Englishman looked down to his basket, the American couldn't stop staring at him, he didn't want to; it occurred to him that he didn't want this to end, didn't want to lose this England in front of him, in this place they didn't fight. He didn't want to stop. He started as the other man rose to his feet, his own basket was full to the brim as well and there was no more reason to stay; he noticed the glow around them fading. He didn't want this to stop, he hurriedly got to his feet, calling out. "Uh Wait! Uhhh a- are you sure this is enough? We don't want him to keep on naggin you for more r-right? How much time is there left?"

Sighing, England looked over and saw the desperate look in the younger nation's eyes. He could read every emotion in those deep blue eyes and realised that he didn't want the time to end, but in his many years of life he had become accustomed to knowing when an amazingly special moment was ending, the words flashed across his mind 'I want my freedom'. England winced then looked up at the sky watching the moon pass over the tips of the trees. He knew the moment was over and they would go back to how they were before, since that day. He looked down and then bent down picking up the basket, not looking at the other blonde. "This is more than enough, and anyway the time is up look." He pointed at the flowers that had begun to curl up and the gold light that infused them fade. The only light now came from the flowers in the two men's baskets.

America knew he was being obvious, and he wished that he hadn't seen the other man wince, but in that one moment, he knew the doubts that must have been rushing through his mind. As he looked around them, the flowers' light began to fade as the petals shrivelled; as much as he didn't want this to end, their allotted time was up; and there was nothing he could do about it. Again, his chest began to ache, but this was so much more painful than before. His heart thumped and screaming within his chest, pleading him to do something, anything! It was then that he noticed their own baskets, though the clearing around them grew steadily darker, the flowers in their baskets still shone brightly; America's eyes widened as something dawned on him. Yes, this moment was over, but it would never be forgotten; this moment was over, but there was always hope. As he looked up again he saw the older nation turn to leave. He inhaled deeply through his nose before striding towards the shorter blonde, his basket forgotten behind him; gathering all the courage he could within the short space of time it took to reach the other blonde man. "Wait!" He grabbed his arm, turning the other to face him, he couldn't let his courage diminish before he accomplished what he wanted to. "Wait. I- I just... please. I'm sorry, but please, let me be selfish... th-this moment may be over... but there's still light, see? please... just this once. I don't want this to end." Without giving the other man time to protest, he gently but determinedly pressed his lips to England's, holding him by his shoulders. His heart pounded in his chest, his face burnt, his blood rushed in his ears. 'Oh shit. What am I doing? what am I doing? I shouldn't be doing this, this isn't right!' But no matter how many times this chanted through the corners of his mind, he found that he couldn't bare to let the man go, he didn't want to. He wanted to hold him, to be with him. Even just for this moment.

As America's voice rang out behind him and hands grabbed his shoulders, England had been stealing away his heart, blocking off the pain and longing he had felt for so long, used to ignoring it. He felt himself spun round, and he looked into those blue eyes, listening to that beautiful stuttering voice and then felt those soft lips press against his, the hands on his shoulders not letting go. He froze as memories flashed through his mind; the tiny child taking his hand, the happy face at the presents he had received, the tears as he was left alone, then the look on that beautiful face as he yelled for his freedom, and the feeling of his own heart shattering as he watched the man he had grown to love so much walk away from him as so many others had before. His hands moved to America's chest and his pushed him away with all his strength. "NO!" He turned and staggered away to lean against a tree. He couldn't do this, he couldn't! Every time he let someone in, they betrayed him. He knew he wouldn't be able to take it happening again. He closed his eyes and whispered, "The only light left is in memories, and even they soon wither and die." He knew America had been talking about the flowers in their baskets. "They only last a month remember," He breathed, then put a hand to his face, feeling hot tears sliding down his cheeks.

America had been breathed through his nose heavily, unable to calm himself down. He was risking everything; after all this time the two nations had finally got on good terms, fighting often but he knew that neither of them really ever meant the words they said. He thrived on the reactions the shorter man gave and lived for his rare smiles and melodic laughs. He felt the man freeze below him as he kissed him, and lips move against his ever so slightly. But then a force, an almost painful force that shoved at his chest and sent him flying towards the ground; he stared up wide eyed at the older blonde. What he saw made his blood run cold. Such an expression of horror, it gripped his heart until it was unbearably painful, England's yell rang in his ears. No. He didn't want it. He didn't trust him. America had risked everything and lost. What was he meant to do now? America's face contorted into heartbroken horror. He'd messed everything up. he never should have done it. the older nation's whisper barely reached his ears. memories...? the younger blonde panted, still on the ground, wide eyed. could it be that...? yes. it wasn't that England didn't want him it was... it was much, much worse. The American wasn't trusted, after what he did to him, he had closed his heart and now walked alone, for fear of being hurt; but he didn't understand! that wasn't it at all! America had always-! always... he couldn't take this. he couldn't let this happen. he saw England supporting himself against a tree, fresh tear gliding down his cheeks. No, he couldn't take this. not again, he couldn't stand it. he couldn't bare seeing the Englishman cry. he had to stop this; he had to make him believe him! he scrambled to his feet and bolted to the man, pulling him back when he tried to move away; he pushed him against the trunk of the tree and pinned him there, trapping him within his muscular arms, his hands pressing against the bark on either side of England. he used his whole strength, he wasn't going to let him go. his voice was shaking, his expression strained and almost painful. "You don't understand a damn thing..."

England had heard America move and tried to pull away but felt himself pinned to the tree. He couldn't go anywhere, but he wanted to be as far away from the young blonde in front of him as possible. He didn't look up into the taller nations face, knowing he would see hurt there. He hardly registered the words America said, just trying to find a way out. He couldn't do this, he couldn't. He knew his resolve would crumble with one look at that face, but he couldn't let it. He had been hurt so often that all he felt was a constant numbing pain in his heart, but around this blonde...this blonde who had shattered his heart, he would feel that longing all over again. But he didn't want it...he couldn't. If he let his guard down once more it would be over...he would never be able to take much more of the pain that filled his very being. "I can't...please..." He whispered, hands pressed to his face. "Just ...please..." He was begging now. He had never been reduced to this in his life. This is what the young blonde did to him, and he hated it. "America don't..."

England wouldn't look at him. he kept his eyes downward, searching for any kind of escape; America knew he was panicking, he knew he was causing the Englishman so much pain... nothing ever seemed to change. but he had to listen... he just had to... but as England hid his face away, blocking him out, pleading with hushed whispers; it tore his heart. he didn't want to cause his so much pain, he had tried to show England how he felt, but he had shoved him back; that's what had hurt the most, that rejection, England had literally tried to push him out of his life. and he knew that younger blonde had put the man through the exact same thing; he had hated himself for it. but he hadn't wanted to look over the man's shoulder anymore, he had wanted to stand beside him, see the world through equal eyes... he never wanted to leave him behind. if he could just make him see that! he had never seen the smaller blonde like this, not since that day; but that's how it always was, even now, standing above him. begging him to listen, to just look at him; he was always causing the other so much pain... nothing ever changed...but that was just it. nothing HAD changed, not from the first day they met, NOTHING had EVER changed. always waiting, always longing, always left behind, always left alone, and always wanting with every fibre of his being to see those breathtaking green eyes again. No, nothing had changed. "Don't call me that... Arthur.. don't call me that, that's not the name I want you to say, I'm not talking to you as The United States of America... Arthur... you really don't understand a God damned thing!" America's arms began to shake, losing his control, losing his resolve, his breathing becoming shaky as he tried to control his voice. "Arthur. Arthur please. PLEASE, just look at me... I... " He took a deep breath in an attempt to steady himself, to prepare him to say what he had kept inside for over 200 years. "I've loved you...m-my whole life, I've loved you. even after everything I did, after how much I hurt you... I've never stopped loving you; please...please believe me... I never wanted.." His breath hitched. "I... Even though I became independent... even though I left you behind... even though I let go of your hand." America's voice shook, his shoulders shaking. Tears escaped from his eyes in broken streams, he shut his eyes tight, head hanging above the other man's in shame, in self loathing, in silent pleading. "There has never been a day... Not a SINGLE. DAY... where I haven't loved you... please," he begged, "please... please believe me... Arthur...p-please believe me..." He couldn't stand it. he had told him everything; everything he had ever wanted to say and yet there was still so much that needed to be said. but England knew now. how would he react? would he believe him? he couldn't stand the risk of looking at the man's expression, fearful of what it might be, he didn't even know if the older nation was even looking at him. he was so scared. his body was trembling, his face was unbearably hot; he knew it was pathetic, but he couldn't stop his tears.

He could feel the man pinning him here shaking, felt the tears splashing down onto him, heard the words, word he had longed to hear washing over him, breaking him down. England could feel his resolve crumbling as he looked up at the taller nations face. His eyes were shut, tears streaming down his face and his whole body was shaking. England reached out a shaking hand, then stopped centimetres from his face. He stared at the hand hanging there so close...oh so close to everything he had ever wanted. All he had to do...all he NEEDED to do was go a little further and he would have it all. The love he had yearned for all these years. He slipped his hand around the back of America's neck and whispered. "And there hasn't been a day I haven't loved you, Alfred." He pulled the taller blonde down into a kiss, and he felt a dam break inside him. He fell forward against America's body and clung to him as he kissed him, feeling waves of pain, anguish and longing crash against him after he had held them back for so long. He began to cry as he kissed the younger nation, not wanting to feel like this but never wanting to let go of him again. He had closed his eyes not wanting to see the reaction of the man he was kissing as if his life depended upon it.

America felt a hand gently place itself on the back of his neck and he froze, suddenly not even able to breathe. he heard England's words and for a split second he couldn't believe his own ears; but then he felt lips pressed against his own. his eyes shot open. he gasped through his nose and he stumbled back slightly from the force of the Englishman now flush against him; one hand fisted in his hair and the other clinging onto his shirt for dear life. England had closed his eyes tight, aguish and pain and LONGING swept over his beautiful features (or at least as much of them as America could see). the younger blonde hesitated for the smallest of moments before wrapping his arms around the older man desperately; returning the kiss with more force and enthusiasm than he thought possible. but after a lifetime of longing, he just couldn't stop himself anymore. new tears of unbelievable joy and relief streamed down his face, no longer caring about anything other than the man now finally in his arms. Finally, after their lungs screamed for air and the kiss was broken, America took England's face in his hands and kissed away the tears escaping from the corners of the Englishman's eyes. And, against his will, he found himself laughing breathlessly, unable to control the massive grin that pushed its way onto his features as he cried and laughed, not once letting go of the man he'd loved for so long.

When they broke the kiss, England gasped for air. His eyes we still tightly closed not wanting to see the young nations face. He felt America's hand cupping his face, and felt his lips kissing away the tears that fell from his eyes; he heard the other blonde laugh and his eyes snapped open. He saw a huge grin on the taller man's face even as tears still overflowed from his beautiful cerulean eyes. England reached out and brushed the tears from his face and then ran his hand through the dirty blonde hair. "I can't believe this" He whispered as he stared into those deep endless eyes. "If this is a dream, never wake me up..."

America still couldn't stop grinning, even as England wiped away his own tears and ran a hand through his hair, resting it on the back of his head. He laughed breathlessly again, resting his forehead against the shorter blonde's. "No chance, Arthur. We're in the real world, and I'm not letting you go anytime soon." They stood there for a while in blissful silence. America's eyes opened and moved away from the older nation; when he shot him a surprised and confused look, he simply threw him a dazzling grin and ran over to his forgotten basket, grabbing it before running back to England's side, taking his hand and intertwining their fingers. He grinned again and looked softly into those emerald eyes he adored. "So, how about those scones?"

Right! I owe two people cookies so here you go *Hands over cookies to Guest and Lolo-loco* And now onto the prize for the first reviwer. I am so sorry to Guest, who was actually the first person to review, but of course I couldn't contact you! So sorry, but the prize defaults to Lolo-loco!

Me: Who do you want to hug then?

Lolo-loco: Well of course it will have to be dear Iggy!

Me: *Pushes England forward* Here you go!

England: What? What's going on?

Lolo-loco: *Pulls England into hug*

England: ?

Lolo-loco: *lets go of England* My hugs are magic! I give the warmest hugs around so I hope it made you happy for even a second :3 but I have to say you'd be perfect for me if you weren't so short!

Me: * Stifles laughter*

England: Ummm, thanks I think?

*America appears*

America: You're giving out hugs? I want one! HUG MEH BRO!

Me and England: *Facepalm* Idiot

Lolo-loco: Sure! *Pulls America into a bro hug*

Anyway! Leaving those three to their hugs, please R&R! Pretty please! Hardly anyone does and I get sad, cause I don't think people are enjoying my writings. So yes! Please and thank you!

Dani xxxx