Thank you guys for all the watchers and reviewers. You are all really being amazing; I hope I can keep up this chapter a day update. I have a few more on my hard drive, and after that we'll see what I'll do~

This chapter is one-sided England - France, inspired by the song I'm Outta Time by Oasis.

Disclaimer: I still don't claim ownership over this series.

Lonely Nights

The air was still, the night was calm, and still Arthur Kirkland was feeling restless. He shifted over in his bed once more, sneaking a glimpse at the clock up on his wall; 3:47 am. Sighing, the blond buried his head into a too-warm pillow, pulling his sheets back over his shoulders and shutting his green eyes tightly.

It was verging on autumn, and the warm late summer afternoons were fading into downright chilly evenings. Tonight especially, there was a certain bite to the air that made England want to get up out of bed and shut the window. Except, getting up would involve movement, and movement would rock him out of the state of tired numbness he'd finally reached, and who knew how long it would take for him to get as close to sleep as he was again.

A hand reached out the empty space beside him on the queen sized bed, fisting in the sheets over the mattress almost in contempt. He knew that a part of him was wishing it was a person there next to him, but he refused to acknowledge that weakness.

Another draft burst in through the window and ruffled England's hair.

Okay, so now he was willing to acknowledge that voice in his head, but only because another person would mean warmth that he could steal. In no way did he wish to be leaning his head against a lean chest, feeling short stubble brush against his forehead almost annoyingly as his senses overload with the scent of roses-

No, England decided, he did not want that at all. And even if he did, he could not have it, and so it was better not to think about it.

Yes, it was better not to think about France's silky soft hair, his deep chuckle and the way his chest rumbled a little when he laughed. It was better not to muse on the light in his eyes when he teased England, before he would take it all back with a simple peck on the lips that left England dizzier than he'd ever let on. And it was certainly no good to think about how warm France's fingers always were as they ran over England's skin, setting him on fire with just a touch.

Especially when this train of thought would lead him to think about France's whereabouts on this particular night, which would not take him to a flat in Paris, but to a quaint little house in the Spanish countryside, where the air would no doubt be filled with the sound of moans-

Stop. Just stop thinking about it.

England sighed, but still the thought that it was all his fault his bed was empty and iSpain's/i was not. France had put himself out there for the taking, but he had protested again and again until It became one time too many. And now…now, it was just too late.

Another gust of wind blew in past the curtains, and froze the tears falling down England's face that he'd been trying his hardest to dutifully ignore.

With a rough sigh, England got out of his bed and stalked over to the window.

'Goodnight, France.'

And then he slammed the window shut, crawled back into bed, and tried to sleep.

End

Thank you all for reading. I hope everyone enjoyed this chapter x3

Next up: Canada/Ukraine at the Carnival~

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