His Last Smile

England's Letter

And, it's finally his letter!!! Whoop whoop!

But the depressing part (except for the story itself): this will be the last chapter, than a epilogue, and that's the end D:

I might write a sequel, but I don't know yet.

Anyways, plz enjoy the chapter and

STAY AWESOME DUDES!!!

~~

Dear everyone,

Hello. This is Arthur Kirkland, also known as England or The United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland, and this letter contains my last words.

I would like to acknowledge some people that I will forever be in debt to. And if I don't mention you in this letter, know that I'm in debt to every single nation. It's just... I want to talk to the people that I have to say some things to.

France, who had been my "big brother" when I was younger. I have quarreled with you many times, but know that I didn't mean that you were a bad brother. You were caring, and I would never forget it. I'm sorry for the day I left. The very day that I yelled at your best friend, for misunderstanding you, for... for everything that went on that day. And I have a set, almost identical to the one I broke. They're my favorites. It's in the house. Find it, froggy. And if you really don't want it... well, smash it, throw it away, do whatever. It's yours now.

-flashback-

England stepped out of the room upon hearing someone enter the house. It was Spain, one of France's best friends. England huffed before taking a seat at the table. France welcomed Spain, ushering him inside.

"Hey, Angleterre, this is Spain," France introduced. "Treat him nicely!"

Nice my arse, England thought. Can't make me.

"Hey, England! Do you want tea, too?" Spain asked, a permanent smile on his face.

England's only reply was the pout on his face that he was not very aware of.

"Aww, England. Don't be that way," Spain said, and brought England a cup. England recognized it as France's most valued possession, the tea cup set that France never allowed him to touch.

England felt something squeeze his heart. Maybe it was anger that Spain touched France's property. Maybe it was sadness that France didn't let England touch them, but he let Spain. Maybe it was jealousy that made him act the way he did.

He would forever regret that moment.

He grabbed the cup, but instead of drinking out of it, he threw it at Spain. The happy country was taken by surprise. The cup missed him by a couple of centimeters, but he was drenched in tea.

"Angleterre!" France was fuming mad. "Go to your room!"

England didn't understand. After all, he was a child before he was a country. He wanted France's attention. He wanted to be able to know his caretaker, to be able to do things that he wished to do.

He ran outside, grabbing his beloved cloak on the way.

The cup laid shattered on the floor, the hot tea spilt onto the cold ground.