Today was another rough day for England. First, his brothers pulled pranks on him right after he woke up. Next was the frog France trying to grope his ass in the middle of the meeting. Then there was a dozen of paperworks for him after the meeting that made him work until late in the night and every little thing that get in his way. Including on stepping unto some dog's poop when he was going home. This was like the second worst day ever. Yes, second after someone's revolutionary war. He could never forgot that day no matter how much he tried to. Even after borrowing the power of the strongest ale, he still couldn't get that memory off his head.
Not like he would complaint about today though. The pranks and the bad things happened to him was like everyday's meal to him. He had grown accustomed to his brothers and France's pranks. What bothered him today was the unusual quietness from a certain American. America had been ignoring England today. Usually, he would be bothering him with either saying that he is hungry or make jokes about England's cooking. America would always irritate England. But today, he was being unusually quiet and had been running away from England. It's as if he didn't want to see him at all.
And that bothered him.
For that reaction was similar to what America did long ago in the past. Around two and a half years ago before America stated his independence to him. The boy had always been happy whenever England came back. At that time, England would smile for him, and America would smile back. But soon after America had grown taller than England, the boy's smile changed. More like faked. Sometimes, more like forced.
Then soon after the way their smile changed, America left him. And that felt like the world was ending. It felt like his life had been nothing. It hurts, it pained him to see America leaving. He took a really long time to recover. Yet it still hurt whenever England saw him. He had decided to not bother about it for he and America was allies now. But that memory would never fade, and the scar would still remain.
As he snapped out from his dream, he found his tears rolling down through his cheeks. He felt terrible. It wasn't America's birthday, yet he was crying. All because a certain American's reaction. He couldn't stop the tears so he went to the bathroom and washed his face. The cold water made him feel better. But he couldn't wash away his emotion. It took a long time to mend a broken heart.
That was when he heard a knock on his door. He decided to ignore it for it was late in midnight. He was sure it was around eleven, and the long hand of the clock had reached 55. He walked away and decided to ignore whoever dare to visit him at night. He didn't want to see anyone now, even if it was urgent. Then the knock went louder and louder until it became a bang. There was no call, but England had started to think what if his door broke. Whoever banging his door had a strength to make the noise heard by him who was in his bedroom in the second floor.
Then the bang stopped. England felt relieved. It seemed like his door was saved. Whoever his visitor is, he or she might have surrendered and went home. England pulled his blanket and decided to let sleep consumed him. But he was yet again bothered by another noise. This time, a creaking noise from his window. He grew angry at this and walked by stomping his foot. If his visitor was a thief, then the poor man shall taste the strength of an ex-pirate, ex-punk British Empire. He pulled his curtain angrily with his mouth open, ready to yell at the man who was climbing up to his window.
But then his anger disappeared. There were a small glint of light before him. Candles were light on top of a union jack designed cake. There was a writing on the cake.
"Happy Birthday, England!" The man read. He had a big grin on his face. The man was tall and had eyes that reflected the ocean. It was him. It was America.
"A-ah?" was all England could manage. The whole situation was too much for his tired mind to take. "Didn't you hear me? I said Happy Birthday, England. Come on. It's your birthday. State your wish and blow the candle before the flame died." America said as he climbed through the window and let himself in. He then shoved the cake to the older man and grinned. "Here."
"W-wha? What the hell America?! What do you think are you doing?! This is midnight, I tell you!" He shouted at his former colony. The American looked away and blushed. "But I wanted to be the first to wish you Happy Birthday." At this England got nothing to say. His face went red and all he could manage was... "...Thank you. America." He said as he accepted the cake and closed his eyes to make his birthday wish before blowing the candle out.
"No prob! It's a Hero's duty to make everyone happy! Say, are you happy, Eng-" The American's eyes went wide. He touched England's cheeks with one hand and examined the older's eyes. "H-hey... have you... been crying?" He said, half panicking. Realizing that, England quickly shove the hand away and lied that the swollen face was because he was tired from work. However, the lie didn't buy America and made the American wore that sad face. "Sorry, I was ignoring you because I wanted to make it a surprise... Were you bothered?"
Of course that question made England lied again. Saying that he isn't lonely with America ignoring him and he wasn't bothered by it at all. But America could see through his lies... or England was really just that bad at lying. "I'm glad... you're still the old you." The younger said. He took the cake from England and placed it on the table next to England's bed, then he wrapped his arm around the older and pulled him into bed. "Wha? Hey, we should put the cake in the fridge first if you want to sleep." He said. "Nah, if it's just cake, I can make it again tomorrow. What I wanted to do tonight is spend my time with you. Like what you did to me in the past."
"America..." He muttered. The boy remembered. He still remembered about the things he did to him in the past. Whenever England had visited America, they would spend their time sleeping together like this. Even after the boy grew older, America would occasionally asked England to sleep with him. And never once had the Briton rejected that request. "...Say I'll ask this once again. Are you happy, England?"
Let us not forget the bitter past but remember the honey within.
Do not cry because it's over but smile because it happened.
Then England smiled. His day may not be the best. But this made up for it.
"Jolly, yes I'm happy, America!"
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