selfish love (hetalia fanfiction)

selfish love

My eyes are shut tightly, my face scrunched up like a discarded paper towel. It was hard to remember to breath, my heart racing, pounding, in my cheast, and the air was humid, felt like paint slowly dripping down my throat in the summers heat.

Simply put, I was hot and nervous.

And it was killing me, hero's are NOT supposed to get like this, their cheeks don't get flushed like mine are right now and all they need to get over nerves is a quick prep talk. Right now? Im biting my lip so hard im sure im drawing blood.

Me and England have been together for... A while now. I asked him, there wasn't a big deal or anything because apparently it was obvious I liked him. Ugh. That day wasn't like now because it was a spur of the moment type thing, you know? One minute he was doing his presentation, I wasn't paying attention to his words but rather the silky looking ruby lips of his, and the next I found myself stood up, pouring my heart out to him.

Yes, it was exactly how you're imaging it. Pure cringe worthy awkwardness, wrapped up with a bow on top.

To my complete and overwhelming surprise, after about... Three minutes or so of humiliation, he stormed over to me, wrapped his arms around my neck, and showed me his lips didn't only just look silky, they felt it too.

And that's how we started dating. It's a relationship filled with enough love to reach the sky and beyond, and enough hate to have a safe trip back. Though I'd rather focus on the love side of things. He was actually the first one to come out with the 'L word'. Of course, it was an accident, he had said something as a joke and I had taken it seriously (like the idiot I am), and so he was apologising whole heartedly and then came the three words that can create an earthquake in my chest even now. I love you. It brought my breathing to a hault the moment it clumsily stumbled out of his lips, I stiffened, and an extreme swirl of complex emotions drowned in my stomach and- it felt amazing.

Meanwhile he was seemingly having a flustered panic attack, realising he had just confessed to me I suppose. Because England hates to be honest with his emotions. His sentences stopped making any sense, he stuttered non stop and his face was the brightest shade of scarlet you could ever imagine. That was made worse when I replied.

I love you too.

There was no clear point that we had become intimate, since we were both pretty confident in that area. As I said, we shared our first kiss right after I had confessed I liked him. So really, the barriers between us, the walls- at times mountains- we have to climb over were all verbal, emotional. We're both extreamly proud people, letting others in is hard work, I remember the first time he cried in front of me even more vividly than the first time we made love.

That does not mean I dont value his touch.

It lingers. That's the best way to explain it. A tingling trail that seems to ooze love and bleed it into my stomach, feeding the sadistic butterflies who take residents there whenever England is around . Its warm even when his fingers are cold, I long for it when it's deprived from me. A drug. That's what his touch is, a drug, or rather a medicine.

And now, I sit outside feeling my skin tingle as it begins to burn, waiting for that beautiful, bit eyebrowed bastard to get his arse over here so I can get rid of these damn evil nerves.

I see him, he smiles at me. I love that smile. There was a while where I never got to see it, it came back shortly after we enchanged confessions of love.

"good afternoon Alfred," he greets me with a nod "you're unusually early today,"

Nervously, I nod, loosing the will to speak "I... Um." get yourself together America, you're supposed to be a hero "I have something to ask you..."

Maybe I said it weirdly, because a look of worry shadowed his face "what?"

I swallow the lump of thick saliva clogging my throat and close my eyes, I imagine im practicing to myself "well... I-i've come to a decision that I must he the most selfish person in the world. Having you is equal to everything in the world for me, is it okay for keep that to myself?"

I peek at him for a moment before returning to shut eyes. He looks perplexed, I ignore it and continue "I was wondering that the other week, if I deserved this enormous gift I have from being loved by you... Then, I realised I was to selfish to care. App I cared about was that I got to see to as you wake up in the morning, and you fall asleep at night

"so I wanted to ask you," I reach into my back pocket to pull out a little square velvet box "if you would allow me to indulge on you for the rest of our lives. I love you, England, Arthur, will you marry me?"

I open my eyes as I open the box to reveal the ring I picked out.

When I look at him, I see huge glassy eyes watering slightly, kinda like a dolls, but full of beautiful humanity and wisdom. And that's more or less all I can see of him, because he's covering the rest of his fully flushed face with the hand he wasn't offering me. As if he didn't trust his words, he was nodding like an idiot.