England PoV:
I found you kneeling next to the dying embers. The land deserted. You were crying over the girl they just burnt.
You seemed to really love her.
My footsteps make you turn. At once your eyes catch a mad glaze and rush forward, almost tripping once, and hold your sword to my throat.
The pitiful condition you're in, I could end you right now... but that isn't my purpose. I stay still without reacting. Your hands are shaking, and I know you won't strike, I'm just waiting for you to say it.
'Arthur...' You manage a hoarse whisper. That is all I need. I knock the sword out of your hand and pull you to my chest.
Your legs give away and you lurch forward. You collapse on me as we both fall to the ground, your body wracked by sobs and wails. I only hold you close to me, trying to soothe you. I don't know if I should try to speak, I'm not really a man of many soothing words...
Your hand suddenly grabs my chin. You force me to look into the depths of your eyes. "This means nothing England. It's not over."
You pass out in my arms.
I stop myself from pressing my lips to your forehead. I carry you to the nearest tree and lay you down in it's shade, trying to memorise the serene expression your face has.
I know it's far from over.
We're enemies.
YOU ARE READING
We're Enemies
FanfictionEngland and France have been two superpowers that have constantly been at each other's necks. But there is more to their feelings for each other than either will ever admit. Not even to themselves. Not even when they cry out the other's name when th...
