America wants to be England's knight in shining armor, but England doesn't want him to be.
He couldn't comprehend the meaning of his brothers' actions, but he never complained. Because it was only during those nights that he felt cared for, treasured, and appreciated.
"So, uhh, how was your day?" "There really is no need to talk to someone you just had the misfortune of sitting next to in a crowded bus." "Misfortune? I don't see why you'd say that. You're really pretty."
It wasn't one of the things he never would have expected from Hibari; it was one of the things he knew Hibari would never do. But apparently, he was wrong.
But Greece stood there for who knew how long, pinching himself repeatedly as he stared at the empty lobby of the building where the EU meeting was being held, and he knew that it was no dream. ... Turkey wasn't there.
Italy, who was always the one being protected, wasn't the hero.
What does it mean to be a hero? A talk with a mysterious man with sharp blue eyes and a red mask makes America rethink on his definition of a hero.
"And tell me again why I agreed to this," he said, following Spain through the long winding path towards his tomato garden. "Because we need to rekindle our friendship," Spain replied.
They've been together for seven years and living together for four and Arthur has yet to get a glimpse of his lover's family. Alfred seems to reluctant to get the Brit to meet them. Just what is Alfred hiding?
There's a paper difference between being brave and being foolish. To Alfred, that difference is Arthur.
"In fact, I like you so much that I don't want to share you with anybody else," he purrs seductively by England's ear. He gives a satisfied smile when he feels the other nation shiver. "I'm the only one allowed to taste your paella, okay?"
They sat through class quietly, and for once, Arthur didn't have any crumpled balls of paper thrown at him. Nobody picked on him on his way to the next classes either. Maybe it's because he was with Alfred, or maybe because they still couldn't believe that he was the Arthur Kirkland they once knew.
Roderich is a piano prodigy. Arthur is a violin genius failing his music class because he can't play the recorder. A music room, a grand piano, a violin, and Beethoven's Pathetique Rondo Allegro brings them together.
"Do not despair, mister," the boy said. "You know you have nothing more to lose now."
It was that time of the year again, but England found comfort in an insightful talk with an unexpected friend.