Chapter Text
On and on it went, reason after reason on things that England loved the most about you. There was a section about your smile, another on your laugh; from your strengths to your weaknesses, there were so many things that he seemed to adore. Each section brought a smile to your face and tears to your eyes; there were even a few times where you caught yourself laughing out loud with the memory that accompanied the words. Yet as you passed what would be the twenty-fifth section, the sentence trailed off with an unfinished quality, no punctuation after the last word to show that it was complete.
"Sorry about that, Love, there was a knock at the door and...(Y/N), what are you doing over there! You shouldn't be moving about like that; it's not good for your condition!"
You looked up at England's somewhat frustrated face, tears still falling from your eyes as you looked back down at the paper.
"I-I'm sorry, Arthur. I was restless, and...and I-"
"No, no, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to lash out; it was uncalled for," England stated with a sad sigh, moving to his desk and placing the tray with a pot of peppermint tea atop it on the hard, glossy wood. He reached forward with a smile and swiped his thumb just underneath your eyes to rid them of any remaining tears.
"I didn't mean to upset you; I'm not mad, you know. I just worry about you dearly. Now, how about we sit down and enjoy some tea?"
"What...what was the last thing?"
England looked up at you, confusion lacing his emerald green orbs at the question.
"I beg your pardon?"
"The last thing; you didn't finish your paper. "These are all reason why I love you, but there's one that surpasses them all, one that explains everything that I cannot even begin to try." You started the next sentence, but you never finished it."
England glanced down at the paper in your hand for the first time since entering the room, his eyes widening considerably upon realizing just exactly what it was. His features then softened as he reached for the paper, gently tugging it from your hands and looking down at each section.
"You weren't supposed to read this yet."
"Please...what was the last one? I-I'd really like to know."
England placed the piece of paper back on the desk where he had left it before and knelt down on one knee in front of you, a serene sort of smile touching his lips and mirroring in his eyes. It was such a pure, loving smile that it had your eyes widening and a silent gasp escaping your slightly parted lips.
"The last thing I was going to put on that paper is the sole reason why I love you, (Y/N). Even out of all those things I wrote down and the countless others I can't begin to list, I love the way you love me."
"The...the way I love you?" you questioned, tears forming in your eyes once more. England once more leaned forward with that same bright smile and took hold of your face with both hands, thumbing away the small rivulets finding their way down your cheeks.
"Of course, Love. The way you love me...there's just no way to describe how incredible it is. To always have you around me, to have you in my arms during the night and by my side during the day; the way you comfort me, reprimand me; the way you make me feel like a human being instead of the older country that I am. There's no one else I'd rather have in my life. I love the way you love me, (Y/N). How could I not?"
You were literally reduced to a blubbering mess by his words, tears now unhindered and lips trembling with so much emotion. Everything England had said was so heartfelt, so charming and endearing and so full of love that it made your heart swell with the love you felt in his voice.
With a stuttering gasp, you threw yourself forth and wrapped your arms around Arthur, sobs of utter bliss wracking your shuddering form.
"I love you, Arthur! I love you so much!"
You continued to tell him how much your loved him, all the silly quirks you liked and how much you adored him and everything else that your mind could think of at that moment. England listened to each declaration, all the while running one of his hands through your hair as the other held you tightly to him in a loving embrace. As you calmed, he moved back just the slightest to give your cheeks kisses, your eyes, your nose, and your lips, doing anything he could to keep his own tears from falling.
The moment was surreal, a moment between two people who had a strong bond between them and a love as strong as time itself, always moving forward and unable to be stopped. You were sick, but it didn't matter. He was a nation, but he didn't care. All that mattered was this moment, the both of you holding each other and caught up in the love you shared.
~*~*~*~
It took another three months of suffering through horrible coughing fits and faint-worthy dizzy spells, but finally, you were able to rest in peace.
England looked down at the polished marble grave mark before him, his eyes downcast just like the sky above him. It seemed that even Mother Nature herself was upset with your passing, as were the other countries. It was a wonder the whole world wasn't in chaos. You had touched so many lives during your lifetime; you had even gotten under Russia's skin, a feat very few, if any, were able to do. But now...now, you were gone.
The service had ended an hour ago, and those who had lingered behind were just now finding the will to leave. Even America, normally loud-mouthed and always chipper, was somber and brooding when he had come up and placed his hand on England's shoulder before leaving.
He was now the only one standing before your grave, syaring down at the many flowers, pictures, mementos of memories from a life well lived. A life so very much loved.
There were many things he could say, so many things that still needed to be said even if the only ones to hear him were the trees, the rainclouds above, and the unmoving stone before him. But he couldn't find his voice, couldn't find the words he wanted to speak even as the thunder threatened him to hurry along, the first of many raindrops finding their way on his skin.
"Silly, I was just apologizing. I know how frustrated you get when I sound like that...."
"Would you like to dance with me, Arthur?"
"You're a great cook, Arthur."
"Arthur, dear, can you not sleep again?"
"I never knew talking to someone could be so...frightening!"
"I'm not s'posed to be drunk. I was s'posed to...to not be drunk!"
"I love him, Arthur, but it doesn't even compare to the way I love you."
"You didn't think you were gonna scare me away over a little sickness, did you?"
"I love you, Arthur! I love you so much!"
The rain had caught up to him; it was much easier to hide his tears that way.
"(Y/N)...what I love most is how you loved me. How...how could I not?"