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He was always being praised as gorgeous. Beautiful blonde hair, stunning light green eyes, but then there was a striking face feature almost everyone seemed to always notice. His eyebrows. England had a problem with them. There weren't just a pair of eyebrows, there were exactly five, since France counted them, of course he did. He always picked on him and pestered him and everything about how stoic he is, mostly personality stuff or generally stuff to annoy him, until France started talking about his ten eyebrows. That's what England couldn't stand, it made him heavily insecure, and France just poured the fuel to the fire by pointing them out constantly.
“For fucks sake, France, I've told you you cant borrow my wine for yourself.”
England scolded him like a parent would scold their child for breaking a window or something.
“...you absolute waste of good oxygen.”
He mumbled to himself with that accent of his. France dramatically flapped his hand in the air, like he was in a play or something.
“Oh please, eyebrows, you're not much of a drinker anyways. What would you know about wine? You probably can't even open it! Your 10 eyebrows probably have more strength than your twig ass.”
England would usually retort, but, when he mentions his eyebrows like that, his biggest insecurity he claims ruins his face, he can't find a comeback! England was silent.
“Hm? What's wrong? Can't think of an answer? Are those constructions above your eyes distracting you-”
“You're not even worth a sigh, seriously, out of EVERYTHING you could say about me, are my eyebrows THE ONLY... THING you have to shit about?! I bet you don't even think once before something comes out of that foolish mouth of yours, you muppet. You have the personality of a damp napkin!”
Englands loud tone was full of bitterness, he meant all those words from the bottom of his heart. His facial insecurity was getting worse because of this tomfoolery France put on.
France chuckled nervously. He was expecting cold silence, but instead finally got an answer.
“I-”
“You WHAT? You think a car drifted on my face? You think my eyebrows make good shelves, SAY IT!”
But France had nothing to say anymore. He noticed he already planted a seed of insecurity on him, that grew branches and leaves of aggression and anxiety. England literally trembled in front of him.
Meanwhile, you purused through the hallways since you've heard the commotion in there. Suddenly, England stormed right past you, grumbling something britishly before smacking the door shut. You eyed France suspiciously.
“The hell did you do now?”
You questioned the French idiot. You were used to hearing your boyfriend having a “loud chat” with him, it was always lighthearted or ridiculous, but now, you've noticed a different pattern. England was more angrier than the usual, and his tone sounded more of sad than angered.
“Did you talk about his face again?”
You sighted deeply, as France just nodded slowly and awkwardly.
“You're such a bitch, France. Whatever, I'll roll back to you later. Do you know where England was headed to?”
“I believe he's going to his room.”
He said, scratching the back of his head. France didn't have that confident charm in his tone, it wasn't seen nor heard. He knew he screwed up on England, and now, he feels sorry even though they are known rivals.
You nodded in response before quickly making your way to his room. You gently knocked on the door a few times.
“England? It's me.”
There was no response.
“Love, can you open the door? Please?”
Silence.
You sighed softly before opening the door yourself. It wasn't locked. England was sitting on the edge of his bed, elbows on his knees, head lowered. He didn't even look up when you entered.
You quietly closed the door behind you and walked over to him.
“...France again?”
England let out a quiet, humorless scoff.
“Of course it was.”
You sat beside him, leaving just enough space so he wouldn't feel crowded.
“He kept talking about my eyebrows...”
His voice was much quieter than usual.
“I know they're ridiculous.”
He avoided your gaze, staring at the floor instead.
“I hate looking at myself sometimes.”
He laughed bitterly.
“Suppose he's right.”
His face toughed in anger, before he suddenly got up, standing at the mirror, tenderly touching and scanning his facial features. He looked to the side, his brows furrowing in anger.
"Does he really need to remind me all the time? Can't he just shut up about it?!"
He exclaimed.
"I've always wanted to change my looks, from my hair, to my face, and now, when I finally feel confident, someone STILL needs to point it out! Why am I never enough?"
You couldn't bare hearing England's saddened, hushed voice. He then turned to face and asked you the most heart breaking question ever.
"Am I truly beautiful in your eyes, [name]?"
Your eyes widened in shock. Silence filled the atmosphere of the room as the sunlight trespassed through the curtains, illuminating England's face and highlighting his features. Gosh, he looked breathtaking, why did he ever doubt himself like that? The brit perked a brow in confusion of the sudden presence of no sound in the room.
"Uh… honey?"
His words hung in the air, before you approached to caress his face. He immediately tensed up at such a sudden move. Your touch was delicate against his warm, flushed cheeks.
A kiss was placed on one of them. He REALLY couldn't help but let the corners of his lips curl into a soft, tiny smile. Then another was pecked on the other side of his smooth face. The flush only threatened to grow more prominent with each passing interaction.
"Stop it, idiot…"
There was no bite in those words. England's eyes darted away from yours for a brief moment. He still sat on that chair, fully facing you as his bright hair strands shielded his eyelashes.
"Goodness… you make it impossible to stay sad… bloody hell…"
He still spoke any nonsense he could think of. Then, it clicked in your head like a lightbulb. You leant in closer and began to place kisses on his eyebrows. They felt like love filled stamps. England shivered in anticipation and shock, a few feathery gasps slipping through his lips.
"Oh my… mmh… you've got me now.."
You giggled at his reaction. This was like a "you drew stars on my scars" type of situation. Something he views as gross, or ugly, you embraced it like it was a unique treasure, a hidden jewelry that decorated his face. The more England thought of it like that, the more his face gained a redder hue. He still let your lips mark territory all over his face. He even let a few genuine chuckles.
"You really know how to make a man swoon for you…"
He drew you closer in his lap, and with that, the sparks of care and happiness emitted from both the British man and you. You shared a moment to remember. The kiss grew into more passion.
"Mgh… my love… you kiss my face so softly as if it's a tender work of art…"
He whispered against your lips sensually.
"Well, it is. It is one of the most delightful works of art. It's a true form of sweet and lovely beauty, how could I ever dare to say otherwise?"
England playfully pushed you away slightly.
"Oh shut it, you teasy brat."
He rolled his eyes, before you both snickered with mischief like little children as he wrapped his arms around your neck. Your fingers tangled in his hair.
"I'm only speaking the obvious truth… your beauty is exquisite…~"
You murmured passionately.
"And your beauty is beyond coherent words, sweetheart. Words were never enough to describe your charming image in the first place…"
All this complimenting and teasing gave England unusual confidence to retort back to you. After a good while of sharing that kiss, you both pulled away to catch a breath, panting slightly.
"Don't let what France says crush down your confidence, okay? He's being a stuck, narcissistic asshole like always. At least you've got a prettier personality than him."
You reassured with honesty, stroking his cheek.
"No worries, dear, I'll make sure that prat doesn't get to my head. Besides, he's got some features I could point out myself too."
"You mean his twink build? Or his annoying accent where he can't pronounce for shit?"
England giggled at that. The best part was that you weren't wrong at all.
"Oh, absolutely, I'll make sure to point out those ones."
And so, this heart to heart ended with a playful banter. It's safe to say you helped your beloved gain his self esteem back again.