Hetalia x Male Reader - One Shot Book

I Wouldn't Mind - England - part 1

A/n: yo dudes, sorry for the long wait but my phone is broken and an currently waiting for a new one to come down, it's been a week since it broke and since a new one was ordered, well yah, hope you like the book :)

Also, for us here, IT'S LIBERATION DAY!! WOOOOOH, LIBERATION DAY!!! I love LIBERATION DAY, Google channel islands LIBERATION DAY!

♪Lets Start♪

€Narrators Pov€

     The r ain dropped down against the leaves, the cold weather setting the scene for the end of the summer. It wasn't, cold. It wasn't warm either though. It was a luke humidity and that left the days long and dreary.
     But that was okay.
     It was all okay.
   
      The soon darkening sky fell upon the rural English town, just a few miles off the coast, where the storms reigned day and night. The blond brit stood, leant against the tree, his arms crossed, although he wasn't entirely in any sort of a bad mood. The second brit, a bundle of energy, m/n, say against the base of the oak tree, it had stood there since they were both younger, and would continue to stand there until they were much older.
     The day felt off, maybe it was the fact that after this they'd only meet in passing, or when they would meet for a while it'd be during the holidays, when one of them was back on leave. A soldier. It wasn't uncommon, definitely not for a country grown boy looking to gain work. They both knew what the job entailed, and the h/c messy haired male was willing to give it a try. It wasn't like it'd be forever.
     Arthur worked for the government, in one of the highest seats, he would look over plans of attack, communication, imports and exports, and death records, more documents and he'd negotiate with other countries, and even the royal family. M/n had chosen to become a soldier, he didn't want a white flower nor did he want to bring shame on his family, so he left for the war at seventeen and wasn't seen for years.
     The soldiers didn't get leave, especially not during the holidays, no one got leave except from the wealthy and famous, even then it was few and far between. Of course they did get time on leave, but that was weeks at most. Arthur could return home when he wanted, he could work from home too, so if his messy haired, lanky and spineless friend was sent home on leave he would know  about it first.
     The sun dipped down, hiding under the duvet of the globe, and casting shadows upon shadows where wounded men lay, where people stripped of an identity were now just corpses with no name. The few that remained standing soon dropped, the rapid spit of the machine guns as they fired reverberated in the smoke filled air. Lungs collapsing in on themselves, bomb smoke littered the air like pollen. The British male writhed on the dirt, the dry dust of soil battering empty eyes and the slosh of mud against skin kept him awake.

%To be continued %