Steal My Heart (A Hetalia Fanfic)

Mon Angleterre

The expression on England's face when he opened the door made my heart pound, both from happiness and guilt.

He seemed happy to see me, but there was also an unmistakeable sadness deep in those emerald eyes. He couldn't hide it from me. I knew him too well.

His expression instantly soured when he saw Prussia standing behind me. "What are you doing here, with her, you bloody bastard?" he yelled. He looked like he was about to punch Prussia, so I reached up and grabbed his fist, wrapping both my hands around it.

"No!" I cried. "Stop it, don't hurt him! He's the one who talked France into letting me see you! France said he had to come with so I wouldn't run away." I left out the part about Prussia kinda being my boyfriend now... There would eventually come a time when I had to tell him, but I hoped that day didn't come too quickly, and it certainly wouldn't be today.

I glanced behind at Prussia. "Can you give us a while alone?" I asked.

Prussia hesitated for a moment, but then nodded, saying, "Of course, Miene liebe," before turning and closing the door behind him on his way out.

As soon as Prussia was gone, I hugged England. "I've missed you, bi--I mean, England," I said. Old habits die hard, and I had called him big brother for over fifty years. He just smiled at me and kissed my forehead. My stomach dropped at that, and I moved a few inches away. His face fell as I did.

"Why didn't you come back to get your stuff? Why send Spain instead? Why...didn't you say goodbye?" he asked, his emerald eyes clouded with sorrow.

"I was confused after you..." I trailed off for a moment. "I just couldn't come back right away."

England sighed and looked away. "So, is the bloody frog at least taking good care of you?"

I nodded. "He mostly leaves me alone. A few kicks have sent the message pretty well."

England smiled. "Just don't fall for the bloody wanker," he said, laughing.

"Him? I could never fall for that frog," I said, grinning. "I bet he calls everyone 'mon amour'."

England's expression darkened. "Actually, he really doesn't... It took a while for him to call me that... He talks about love a lot, but he really does take it seriously."

"Wait, what? Why would he call you his love?" I asked.

"Oh... France and I... We used to be married..." he said, looking down, a rose blush tinting his cheeks.

"What?" I cried, shocked. "Why did you get a divorce?"

"Our bosses of course. It was because of our bosses that we got married in the first place, but... It was also them who forced us to be apart. But I don't care anymore. The bloody frog didn't care when it happened, so I won't care either. He can go to bloody hell for all I care." England crossed his arms, but as he looked away, I could see tears in his eyes. As hard as he tried to hide it, Iggy still loved France, I realized. He may have not wanted to marry France, but somewhere along the way, he fell in love and hasn't ever gotten over him.

"Iggy, you don't love me," I said.

"Yes I do," he said softly. "I wouldn't have said it if I didn't mean it."

"No, you just want to get France out of your heart, England," I said.

He just stared at me for a moment before burying his face in his hands. "Why did that bloody frog have to act like he didn't care at all?" he said, a sob racking his chest. "He said he loved me, but he never really cared, did he?"

I wrapped my arms around England, stroking his hair as I had so many times before. But those times had been much simpler. "Iggy, maybe he was trying to hide how much it really hurt him..."

England looked up at me, his face wet with tear streaks. "I can't let myself think that for even a minute," he said softly.

"I'll talk to him," I said. "I'm going to fix this." I kissed him on the forehead, said goodbye, and met Prussia outside.

"Ready to go?" he asked. I nodded, and we left.

I needed to talk to France when we got back to his house. I would not let him continue to hurt Iggy. No one would hurt England if I could help it.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When we got back home, I kissed Prussia goodbye, and he promised he'd visit again soon, then left.

I walked into France's house, the house I had begun to involuntarily think of as home, and instantly set out on a search for France.

I found him in his rose garden, with an expression that seemed to be the epitome of sorrow. He had his eyes closed, but a single tear managed to leak out from the lids and race down his cheek. When he opened his eyes, the emotion in them broke my heart just before he saw me and hid away the pain.

"Sorry, mon amour," he said, wiping the tear away as he stood up. "I was...lost in memories. Today is the anniversary of a...special day," he said with a sad smile. "Oh, how was your visit with England?" He asked suddenly.

"Good," I said. "But... It's brought up some things I'd like to discuss with you."

"Are you leaving Prussia so soon to come to me?" he asked, a devilish grin on his face.

I scowled. "No, I'm not leaving Prussia. And I'm definitely not coming to you!"

France sighed. "It was only a joke, mon amour," he said. "But I surrender. What was it you wished to speak of?"

"Well... I found out that you and England used to be married," I said. I saw France stiffen at the mention of that, and his eyes instantly became guarded.

His voice was cold when he asked, "And what about when we were married?"

"Are you over him?" I asked.

France crossed his arms, "Yes. I am completely over that black sheep of Europe."

"Are you sure?" I asked, tilting my head to the side.

France's cold façade suddenly disappeared, and his face crumbled. "No," he whispered. "And I will never be over him. He was my Angleterre..."

"Then why do you delight in tormenting him now?" I asked.

"I don't like hurting him," France said. "I'm not trying to hurt him, I just...I'm trying to at least still talk to him without making him remember how I love him, and how we used to be married. He never wanted to marry me. I bet he was glad when we got a divorce."

"He wasn't," I said softly. "The reason he hates you so much right now is because he's angry. He thinks you didn't love him. And he doesn't hate you, actually. He loves you, France."

France looked up at me and blinked, surprised. "Did he come out and say that, did he say that he loves me?"

I nodded.

France suddenly grinned. "I need to call my black sheep of Europe."