Chapter 5: Anywhere

Alfred said we would be living together, Arthur thought the next morning.

The thought struck him when he woke up on the sofa in Alfred's living room. Somebody, probably a servant, had laid a blanket over him sometime during the night. Arthur got up and went to check on Alfred. He found him still sleeping, so that left the Brit with time to think. Where exactly did the American have in mind for them to live?

Arthur sighed in exasperation. Even though he and Alfred could be together as humans, that didn't change the fact that they were still countries. How long could this go on? What if this love had been doomed from the start, and it was all just going to end, soon?

This thought was seriously discouraging to Arthur. He made his way to the guest bathroom and attempted to tame his messy hair with a brush left on the vanity. He remembered something he had said to France, once: "You need to learn to deal with and accept your failures." Maybe it was time for him to do the same.

After properly washing up and preparing for the day, Arthur made his way down to the kitchen for breakfast. The servants were busy setting the table and preparing food and coffee. Alfred still wasn't out of bed yet, apparently.

Arthur's thought was interrupted by the brown-haired servant handing him a saucer with a cup of black tea and a few packets of sugar and honey on the side.

"I know it's not much," the servant admitted as Arthur took the saucer. "I was just wondering if I could borrow a few minutes of your time, sir."

Arthur blinked curiously at this odd request. However, there didn't appear to be any mischief in the servant's blue eyes.

"I suppose," Arthur said.

The servant led him into the garden behind the house. The sun was still rising, and the air was still cool.

"I can't make any assumptions about your relationship with Mr. America," the servant said, inviting Arthur to sit on a bench at the edge of the lawn, and then sitting beside him, "but I just wanted to say that I've known him for a long time. He makes mistakes and some wrong decisions, but when his mind fails, he always follows his heart—and that's never failed him."

Arthur waited for the man to continue, not sure what he was getting at.

"Maybe…if you did the same," the servant continued, "I would have the pleasure of seeing you smile more often. I'm sure Mr. America means a lot to you."

The servant grinned as Arthur let those words sink in. Follow his heart? The Brit hadn't dared to trust it since the War. Still, in all this conflict, was that really the answer?

"Thank you," Arthur found himself saying, standing up and turning toward the house. "I'll…I'll take it into consideration."

And with that, he walked back inside to meet his lover.

"America?"

The younger country, who was sitting with a coffee mug at the kitchen table, looked surprised to be called by his nation name. A worried expression crossed his face.

"It's alright," Arthur said. "I just wanted to talk to you for a moment." He sat down at the table.

"What's up?" Alfred asked.

"I must admit, I've been speaking with your servant. He's given me some good advice. I've decided…I want to stay with you, Alfred." He felt himself blushing hard. "I-I love you, and I want to stay with you."

Alfred's face curled in a huge smile. Then, the younger country leaned across the table and planted a firm kiss on Arthur's lips. The Brit pressed back, but in a gentler manner. Arthur then realized that this really wasn't the Revolutionary War, anymore. He was able to follow his own advice. He was here, now—and, on top of that, Alfred loved him back. He'd just proven it.

Arthur pulled away for a moment. "So, do you have any idea of where we're going to live?"

Alfred smiled and said: "Anywhere. As long as it's with you."