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Title : When a Simple 'I Love You' Just Cannot Do

Author : DnKS – giRLs

Rating : PG13

Character(s)/Pairing(s) : America and England

Disclaimers : The characters involved in this story do not belong to us, nor do they have any connection to real nation(s). No infringement intended.

Warning : General sap

Note : Written for leriko_rasen, posted for public under her permission.

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Chapter 6

When America showed up on England's doorstep with a bunch of calla lilies in his hands, he could gather from England's expression that he was surprised. And when he told him that he wanted to ask him out for a nice walk along some riverbank, he knew that England was confused at best. But England still admitted him into his house and let him have some drink when he placed those flowers into a clear vase.

"A walk on the riverbank?" England asked. "You never struck me as someone who enjoys such activity."

"Hm? Oh, I just visited Canada and somehow I, I mean he gave me this idea of having some private time to talk, just you and me," America said, dumping his body to England's couch. "We don't spend time with each other that much lately and… yeah, I think there are many things we can talk about."

England seemed to ponder the notion for a moment before he smiled slightly. "That actually sounds nice."

"Right?!" America exclaimed happily. "So, what are we waiting for?"

England's head turned sharply to stare at him. "What? You mean now?"

"Of course I mean now," America said. He stood to approach England and took his hand, intent on dragging him out of his house to some riverbank which would hopefully be the site for his wedding proposal.

"But… America," England said, yanking his hand free from his hold. "It's nearly evening."

"Perfect, then we can see the sunset over Britannia," America said, chuckling at his own joke. "Then I can prove you wrong by showing you that the sun does set too at your place."

"Oh, shut up, you… hey," England half tried to resist as America held his hand again. "At least let me take my coat, it's a bit cold outside."

And so it took perhaps another half of hour of England putting his coat on, inspecting his appearance on the mirror, tsk-ing before he shed his coat off to put another coat on, then proceeded to meticulously check his house to make sure that nothing would go amiss while he was away (all the while America was bouncing on his heels and told England to just hurry up) before they were out of the house. Truth be told, America was not really sure where he could find a river near England's house. But it seemed England had already taken care of that matter, and America only needed to follow him as his companion steered their steps to some nondescript park.

"I don't think there's any river near my place," England explained as they walked to some pathway trailing into that park. "This place is nice and quiet, though…"

America looked around, observing their surrounding. The park was spacious enough with some trees and occasional benches. It indeed looked nice and quiet.

"Nice," he said. "What's this place?"

England coughed discreetly. "Our local lover's lane."

America's laughter came unbidden. "What? Oh, lovely. So we're walking on a lover's lane. Should I hold your hand?"

England merely grumbled but America took it as his agreement. Promptly, he took hold of England's hand, dropping a chaste kiss to his cheek during the process. And England did not slap his hand away. Neither did he try to reject the kiss. Usually England tended to be so much more reserved when they were in public but, America thought as he looked around them, it was not they were actually in public then. The park was silent and for everything he knew, it was possible they were the only two people in the park that time.

Somehow he began to see the virtue in the whole 'having-some-private-time-together' thing.

"So," England said. "What is it that you want to talk about?"

America blinked. "Eh?"

"You said you wanted to talk about 'everything'," England reminded him.

"Oh. Um…" America said. Unconsciously he tightened his hold on England's hand. "Can't I just… want to spend time with you?"

There seemed to be something shifting on England's face and America nearly thought that he had somehow made a mistake by saying those words. But then England smiled and turned his face slightly so they could see straight into each other's eyes. Those eyes, America thought, could always take his breath away. When he saw those eyes staring so fixedly at him, he felt very tempted to hold his breath due to the intensity of that gaze. He did not realize when they had stopped walking but there they were, standing so very close to each other, neither moved nor talked, merely staring at each other.

Seconds passed, and England's hands reached to his shoulders. Another second passed and England's lips met his. But it needed more than a mere minute before those lips ended the kiss.

America blinked in surprise and happiness after England relinquished his lips.

"Wow," he said absent mindedly.

"I take it that you enjoy that," England said with a smirk.

"Enjoy it? England, it's…" America tried to find a word sufficient to describe what he felt, but he could find none. "…wow. But, why?"

England tilted his face slightly, "Can't I just want to kiss you?"

America stared at England. His face must have looked so surprised because England chuckled at him.

"Do you remember when you were little," England said. His eyes had that glint of melancholy that seemed to appear whenever he recalled the time long past. "You would sometimes go to my study, disturbing my work because you 'just want to spend time with England'. And how you would sometimes hug my waist because you 'just want to hug England'."

America smiled. He held England's waist in a loose embrace and continued his sentence. "And I would also sometimes kiss your cheek because I just want to kiss England."

England let out another chuckle. "Yes. You often did that."

"But now, when I say I want to spend time with you, you realize that I mean so much more than what I have meant back then," America said wistfully. "And now, when I say I want to kiss you, I also mean so much more than what I have meant back then."

He swiped some hair from England's eyes. It was a cheesy move, a very cliché one, America knew. But it felt so fitting for the scene.

"I love you, England," he said and he meant every word of it.

England leaned to his touch, almost unconsciously it seemed. "You're becoming so much like a leading male character from a cheap paperback romance novel suddenly."

America had to snort at that. "I just read Canada's chicklit novel," he admitted.

England also gave a snort at hearing that particular information. "No wonder."

"So, am I doing well at becoming a cheap romance novel character?" America asked with a grin.

"As good as how you are at being a hero," England said.

America's grin only grew wider, "I'm doing awesome, then! Aw, thank you, England."

"That wasn't meant to be a compliment, you idiot," England said affectionately before he ruffled America's hair. "It's just… somehow I felt so happy when you said that just now. You've grown to be so big after all these years but there are still things that remain unchanged in you."

"Things that remains unchanged, eh?" America said mischievously.

"Like the fact that you are still an irrational brat," England said. "And that you still do things as you please. And that you still want to simply spend time with me…"

America smiled knowingly. "And the fact that I still love you?"

England laughed. "Yes. Okay, that too."

There was perhaps no heralding sound of bells. There was neither fancy sound nor visual effect, but America knew it was the perfect moment for him to finally tell his real reason why he asked England out that time. Keeping his smile intact, America reached inside his coat pocket to retrieve the box of the ring.

But it happened that the box was nowhere inside his pocket.

He could feel his smile slipping away from his face. Frantically, he began searching though his pocket more thoroughly. And when that yielded him no result, he began searching though all his pockets. He could not believe it. He was sure he had brought the box with him when he left his hotel room. Or had he?

"America?" England asked cautiously. "What's wrong?"

"I lost my… thing," America answered. "Dammit, where is it?"

"What thing? Perhaps I can help you searching for it?" England offered, but America was far from reassured hearing that offer.

"No! No, you can't! I mean… no, you don't have to," he stammered. "Okay… okay, I think perhaps I left it in your house."

"Well, then let's search for it," England said. "You seem to be so distressed, is it an important item for you?"

"Yes. But you can't join me searching for it," America said so agitatedly that he literally flapped his hands around. "It's… it's supposed to be given to you. Uh, I intend to give it to you so you can't see it."

England looked at him strangely. "America, that's ridiculous. If you want to give it, whatever it is, to me, how can I not see it?"

"But it's supposed to be a surprise!" America said as he raked his hand through his hair in frustration. How ridiculous, he thought. How could he even forget the ring? It was an important instrument for the whole proposing thing. How could a hero like him forget an important device like that?

"Listen, England, how about I go to your house and search for it?" he proposed. "I mean, please. I really, really need to find it."

England gave a resigned sigh. "Fine, let's head back."

"Yeah… whoa, hold on," America said, eyes went wide as England tugged on his hand and led them to walk back to his house. "You don't have to come with me! I can search for it myself."

"And what? You want me to wait here alone as you take your time searching for that whatever item? I don't think so," England said. "I don't really fancy the idea of standing alone in cold air, thank you very much."

"But…" America tried to speak but England seemed not wanting to hear him out. England's hold on his hand was firm and it seemed there was nothing that could stop him from walking with America to his house. And under such determination—for England, the fucking British Empire, did fall into a wholly different league on his own for his determination—America could only comply.

Yet still, he would never comply with the idea of England joining him in searching for that particular velvet box.

When they reached England's house, he very insistently talked England into waiting for him on his guest room and not, by any means, trying to join him in his search. He thought that perhaps England only agreed to it to humor him. But as long as England could stay still while he was searching for that damned ring, he was satisfied, even if England did look at him like he was a lunatic.

He wasted no time before he began his thorough search in England's house. He upturned the tablecloths, tried to look behind every nook and crannies, he took off his coat and jacket and shook them, watching if perhaps that box would magically fall from some previously unseen inner pocket. He even looked inside the vase among the stalks of calla lilies that he had brought for England, thinking if perhaps he kinda misplaced his ring there amidst the flowers. But so far his effort came to no avail.

America was so very tempted to swear. If he could not find the box in England's house, that would mean that perhaps he left it in his hotel room. That would mean he had to drive back to his hotel to retrieve it. That would mean he had to do the whole proposing thing from the start again. Why was fate so cruel to him?

"America," England's voice coming from the guest room. "You sound more like trying to destroy my house from here. What is it exactly you're searching for?"

"I promise I'll tidy up afterward," America called back. "I just need to find that damn box first…"

"A box?" England asked. And before America could say 'shit', England already continued. "A box like some small blue velvet box?"

America actually stopped for a heartbeat during his search. He frowned.

"You know, England, I sometimes think you're some kind of a mind reader. What's with your uncanny guessing ability," he said. "Um, yeah, a box like that. Though it's the content that's important."

"I'm not a mind reader, idiot, it just happens that the box is lying on this couch next to me," England said casually as if it was the most natural thing in the world. "The content is important, you say, I wonder what it is…"

America's eyes widened. Did England just say that the box was on the couch beside him, he thought frantically before he bolted out of England's kitchen. He thought he screamed out things like 'no, England, wait, don't open it!' as he ran to England's guest room. But when he arrived there, it was all too late.

He arrived to the guest room to a scene of England sitting on his couch, an opened blue velvet box in his hands, with his gaze riveted to a five carat diamond ring held within said box. England's eyes blinked almost reverently as he observed the ring. Then slowly, those eyes shifted their gaze until they look straight at America.

"This ring…" England said. "This ring is for me?"

And America was standing there, feeling like an idiot as he realized that all his plan of romantic proposal was blown up. He gulped. Fate really did hate him, it seemed. But he was a hero and a hero should be able to save the situation no matter what no matter where. So he took a breath and straightened up his pose.

"I love you, England," he said as he kept holding England's gaze with his own. "Will you marry me?"

End Chapter 6

(A/N: So, another chapter to go and this story will end. Are you still with us in the ride? How many of you have already scheduled an appointment with your dentists to deal with your cavities? :D Thank you for joining us, reading and even reviewing this story. Sorry that we cannot reply to your comment individually since it's been a hectic week. But know that your reviews really mean a lot to us and we really appreciate it.)