[Hetalia] "My Confession" Part 2
Inspired by the song "My Confession" by Josh Groban
*******
Title: "My Confession" A Ficlet Collection Part 2
Author: shuriken7
Claim: America/England
Prompt: 19. Future, 16. Limits, 23. Found, 41. Sacred, 36. Color, 11. Ultimate @ 50ficlets
Fandom: Hetalia
Rating: PG
Word Count: 2,334 for all ficlets
Summary: America reflects on his relationship with England and wonders why he can never find the courage to tell him what he wants...
Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia.
Part One
Future
I have been wrong about you
America bounced up and down on the balls of his feet, staring at the wooden door waiting for England to come through it. He could hear the excitement down by the docks, the giggles of girls meeting their sailor sweethearts and the sounds and calls of cargo being unloaded. He knew it would still be a decent amount of time before the older nation arrived, but he still waited. He was smiling, excited to show England how much he had grown, to see that he was finally becoming a man. He wanted to show him the future he was building for his people, wait, he reminded himself, they were England’s people first. He felt a twinge of guilt, then, hoping England wouldn’t notice that they were beginning to call themselves Americans now. America wondered what England would think if he knew.
He jumped slightly, his thoughts shattering, as the door swung open and revealed the blonde head and the bright green eyes. He paused for a moment, taking in the fact that he was now taller than the other man, before rushing in with a hug. Crushing the other in his arms. He heart beat faster and his stomach fluttered.
“A-America?” he heard, muffled against his chest. America stepped back releasing him. He nodded happily, looking for recognition in the other’s eyes. He didn’t get it, just seeing confusion there. Then England blushed and looked away. Changing the topic to trade and other mundane things. America got no words of affirmation, even though he tried to tell England of feelings he held for him. Yet, he was only ignored and brushed off.
*******
Limits
Thought I was strong without you
America crumpled the report in his hand. He sat down heavily at his desk and lay his head on the wood. He wondered if he should bang his head against it, strike his skull so hard he wouldn’t have to deal with this. Black out and let England overrun him and force him back into submission. He banged a fist against the wood, like he would allow that to happen. Did England really think so little of him that he thought America would overlook the impressment of his people? That he would ignore that England is deliberately getting in the way of his trade? Did he still not see him?
He could feel it, in this fight he would prove himself. England would be forced to acknowledge that he was not the small child that needed the older’s protection. He would show the world that he was going to be someone to be reckoned with, not a former colony that crawled away from its overlord. It pushed him to his limit somedays, knowing that the one person he would have turned to in the past couldn’t, wouldn’t, be with him. He wanted England to hold him and tell him things would be alright between them. And he knew he was just dreaming.
When he stood at a battlement or on one of the ships in the Great Lakes, trading fire with England’s men, he would whisper to the winds, begging an answer. “Why can’t you acknowledge me?”
*******
Found
For so long nothing could move me
He knew that England watched him whenever they would pass each other at meetings or other diplomatic functions where they were both attending. He ignored the furtive looks from across tables and when passing him in the hallway. He promised himself he wouldn’t look back. He would keep his eyes focused on the destiny he had found for himself. To the home he and his people were building for themselves. He now spread from coast to coast, and he knew he was becoming strong. Sometimes, he would allow himself to wonder what England thought of the changes his country had, the change he himself he had. However, he refused to look back.
One day, he found himself becoming distracted at a meeting and his eyes wandered to the nation across the table from him. He listened with one ear to what the presenter was saying. The man described the value of the West and seeking investments for the railroads and cities springing up there. He watched as a small smile graced England’s face, he wondered if the other man even knew it sat there. He smiled himself, remembering other times when he had seen that face. It was still directed to him, to the accomplishments he was making him, whether the other realized it or not. He looked so interested in everything, and America longed to walk with him and talk to him about it personally. His eyes widened in surprise when England turned his eyes toward him, but he didn’t look away. He hoped for a moment, that his secret desire would come true.
The moment passed as England glared. America frowned.
He looked away, no it wasn’t possible. That smile was probably just an illusion of his mind. There was no way that England would want to speak with him now, he wondered if he would want to speak with him ever. He would continue to not acknowledge him either.
******
Sacred
For so long nothing could change me
Now I feel myself surrender
America’s excitement and love for his own lands bubbled out of him as he spoke. He explained to the assembled nations his idea, an idea that was peaceful in a world being torn apart by war. An idea that there should be natural places set aside for people to renew themselves in. He had already set aside more than fifteen, places for his people, and the people of the world. He knew he had no great man-made sacred places, but he had more than enough natural beauty to make up for it. America scanned the faces of the crowd and tried to interpret what he saw, some looked as though they had better things to do. He ignored them, for unlike some things he came up with this one was truly brilliant. It was certainly up there in his best ideas.
He focused on the faces that were smiling and nodding, one in particular. He focused on England, who looked very tired and worn. He wanted to reach out to him, steal him from everything he was dealing with and take him to one of his parks, where it was quiet. Where he could tell him he would protect him, since he was now powerful enough to do so. If only he could muster up the courage to reach across the room and tell him what he wanted. Since all he wanted was him.
******
Color
I am captured by your beauty
Your unassuming grace
“America.”
He felt his heart leap into his throat, when he heard his name came out of England’s mouth. He had been looking at a tapestry beside an exquisite stain-glassed window. He turned slowly, hoping that England was not about to yell at him for what seemed the hundredth time this trip. America could admit that he deserved some of it, and hearing words of scold were better than hearing nothing. He turned and took a deep breath, hoping that the blush on his cheeks wasn’t visible. The sight he had been created with made his heart flutter.
The light that shone through the window was casting rainbows of color across his face, highlighting his hair and his eyes, the shirt that he was wearing. He wanted to touch him, follow the trails of fractured light with his fingertips, or his lips... Shoot, he should be responding, saying something back. He was at a loss for words as he looked into the other’s eyes.
“What?” Was all that he could come up with. He tilted his head slightly trying to cover up how stupid he felt at that one phrase. England merely shook his head and walked away, and America felt his heart sink. Things had gotten better between them and America wanted to tell him, wanted to say all of the things that had been building in his heart.
*******
Ultimate
I can’t hide it
Now hear my confession
America was bored, he wished they would serve the meal already, he was starving! At least his table mates were tolerable. He had been absentmindedly shredding his napkin and sending little origami birds across the table at Japan. He had grinned when the other began reciprocating the activity, sending back birds and little hopping frogs. Carefully folding each small piece distracted him from the person who sat nearby him. He would throw a glance at England every now and then, he noticed the other was looking slightly murderous and America figured it had to do with being forced into coming to France’s party.
Suddenly an arm reached over him and snatched up the paper he had been folding. He looked up giving France an innocent look, while the older scowled at him. America was a little jealous that the other man could still make such a displeased look seem elegant. He sighed in defeat and the other nation moved away. He made a face at Japan and Japan returned an amused look.
“Jeez, he’s no fun. Why can’t we just barbecue or something? That’d be so much better.” He glanced sidelong at England as he said it, and saw a small smile. His heart sped up a little bit, wondering if his statement was the cause of it. At the gap between appetizers, he watched England get up and disappear into the maze of hedges that surrounded the garden. He stared at his plate for a few minutes.
“America-san?”
“Yeah?”
“Why do you not go after him?” America looked up surprised. Japan gave him a look that said he should know what he is talking about. He did and standing up and heading off into the hedge. He ignored the knowing look Japan shot at his back.
He wandered through the plants having no idea where England had gone. He paused for a moment, trying to think when he noticed a small movement on one of the leaves of the hedge. America moved toward it. Settled on a rose was a small caterpillar. He examined the creature closer, sure it would become some kind of beautiful butterfly. He heard a soft sound and saw movement out of the corner of his eye. He saw England standing there awkwardly and waved him over. He waved back and walked over, “What are you looking at?”
America looked up and him and smiled, “Check him out!” he pointed towards the small insect larvae. He was sure England thought he was crazy in this moment, but he didn’t care. He had seen something small and beautiful and now someone he wanted to be around was standing beside him. They could be standing in a barren desert and he would still find things wonderful.
“A bug?” England asked in an incredulous voice.
“He’s cute. And I think he might be a rare one.” He blushed a little as England laughed at him.
“You’re cute.” England laughed. America’s breath caught in his throat. Had he heard right? His heart sped up.
“What?” He looked up with England, panic rising in him as he started backing away from him. He didn’t want him to leave, he reached for him as he was about to walk into a rose bush. England stumbled and he caught him before he fell into the thorns. America’s heart began to race at how close England was to him and the fact that he was in his arms, even if it was on accident.
“Careful!” he said. England pulled away, and America tried to keep the hurt from crossing his face and betraying him. He watched as England brushed himself off, his face bright red. America wondered what that meant, could it be possible that England had feelings for him too?
“Thank you.” he heard England mutter, “We should get back to the party before we are missed.” He turned away before America could respond. America felt his heart sinking, he needed to speak, he needed to say something!
“I think you’re cute too...” He winced at how silly that sounded, and held his breath when he saw England pause, slowly turning back to him. His eyes were turned towards the ground, away from him.
“What?” America came closer to him. It was now or never he decided. They were alone, for the first time in a long time. He took a deep breath to try and steady his voice.
“I said, I think you’re cute too. I really like you England.” He couldn’t watch his face as he confessed his feelings. He stared down at the toes of their shoes. He wanted to say so much more, but every time he opened his mouth to say them the words seemed swallowed up by his fear that England would not return feelings that had been festering in him for decades, perhaps even longer.
America looked up in surprise as he felt England’s fingers brush his cheek his hand hooking behind his head. He wanted to ask but before he knew it England had pressed their mouths together. His surprise quickly gave way to pure joy as he wrapped his arms around the smaller nation and held him tightly to him. He felt England’s tongue touch his lips and he immediately tangled their tongues together. He had always wondered what the other would taste like if he had the opportunity. He had always imagined he tasted like tea, but there was so much more to the taste that was England. He hoped he would have to time to puzzle out all of the flavors that was the sweetest thing he had ever tasted. America never wanted to let go, but he could feel himself getting lightheaded from the lack of air.
“Does this mean you like me too?” he asked, grinning widely. England glanced around before, leaning towards him again. America hoped he was going to kiss him. Instead, the other put his hands on his cheeks and stared into his eyes.
“I think I’ve been in love with you for longer than even I realize.” America’s heart soared as he heard the words, pulling England into another kiss.
*******
Title: "My Confession" A Ficlet Collection Part 2
Author: shuriken7
Claim: America/England
Prompt: 19. Future, 16. Limits, 23. Found, 41. Sacred, 36. Color, 11. Ultimate @ 50ficlets
Fandom: Hetalia
Rating: PG
Word Count: 2,334 for all ficlets
Summary: America reflects on his relationship with England and wonders why he can never find the courage to tell him what he wants...
Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia.
Part One
Future
I have been wrong about you
America bounced up and down on the balls of his feet, staring at the wooden door waiting for England to come through it. He could hear the excitement down by the docks, the giggles of girls meeting their sailor sweethearts and the sounds and calls of cargo being unloaded. He knew it would still be a decent amount of time before the older nation arrived, but he still waited. He was smiling, excited to show England how much he had grown, to see that he was finally becoming a man. He wanted to show him the future he was building for his people, wait, he reminded himself, they were England’s people first. He felt a twinge of guilt, then, hoping England wouldn’t notice that they were beginning to call themselves Americans now. America wondered what England would think if he knew.
He jumped slightly, his thoughts shattering, as the door swung open and revealed the blonde head and the bright green eyes. He paused for a moment, taking in the fact that he was now taller than the other man, before rushing in with a hug. Crushing the other in his arms. He heart beat faster and his stomach fluttered.
“A-America?” he heard, muffled against his chest. America stepped back releasing him. He nodded happily, looking for recognition in the other’s eyes. He didn’t get it, just seeing confusion there. Then England blushed and looked away. Changing the topic to trade and other mundane things. America got no words of affirmation, even though he tried to tell England of feelings he held for him. Yet, he was only ignored and brushed off.
*******
Limits
Thought I was strong without you
America crumpled the report in his hand. He sat down heavily at his desk and lay his head on the wood. He wondered if he should bang his head against it, strike his skull so hard he wouldn’t have to deal with this. Black out and let England overrun him and force him back into submission. He banged a fist against the wood, like he would allow that to happen. Did England really think so little of him that he thought America would overlook the impressment of his people? That he would ignore that England is deliberately getting in the way of his trade? Did he still not see him?
He could feel it, in this fight he would prove himself. England would be forced to acknowledge that he was not the small child that needed the older’s protection. He would show the world that he was going to be someone to be reckoned with, not a former colony that crawled away from its overlord. It pushed him to his limit somedays, knowing that the one person he would have turned to in the past couldn’t, wouldn’t, be with him. He wanted England to hold him and tell him things would be alright between them. And he knew he was just dreaming.
When he stood at a battlement or on one of the ships in the Great Lakes, trading fire with England’s men, he would whisper to the winds, begging an answer. “Why can’t you acknowledge me?”
*******
Found
For so long nothing could move me
He knew that England watched him whenever they would pass each other at meetings or other diplomatic functions where they were both attending. He ignored the furtive looks from across tables and when passing him in the hallway. He promised himself he wouldn’t look back. He would keep his eyes focused on the destiny he had found for himself. To the home he and his people were building for themselves. He now spread from coast to coast, and he knew he was becoming strong. Sometimes, he would allow himself to wonder what England thought of the changes his country had, the change he himself he had. However, he refused to look back.
One day, he found himself becoming distracted at a meeting and his eyes wandered to the nation across the table from him. He listened with one ear to what the presenter was saying. The man described the value of the West and seeking investments for the railroads and cities springing up there. He watched as a small smile graced England’s face, he wondered if the other man even knew it sat there. He smiled himself, remembering other times when he had seen that face. It was still directed to him, to the accomplishments he was making him, whether the other realized it or not. He looked so interested in everything, and America longed to walk with him and talk to him about it personally. His eyes widened in surprise when England turned his eyes toward him, but he didn’t look away. He hoped for a moment, that his secret desire would come true.
The moment passed as England glared. America frowned.
He looked away, no it wasn’t possible. That smile was probably just an illusion of his mind. There was no way that England would want to speak with him now, he wondered if he would want to speak with him ever. He would continue to not acknowledge him either.
******
Sacred
For so long nothing could change me
Now I feel myself surrender
America’s excitement and love for his own lands bubbled out of him as he spoke. He explained to the assembled nations his idea, an idea that was peaceful in a world being torn apart by war. An idea that there should be natural places set aside for people to renew themselves in. He had already set aside more than fifteen, places for his people, and the people of the world. He knew he had no great man-made sacred places, but he had more than enough natural beauty to make up for it. America scanned the faces of the crowd and tried to interpret what he saw, some looked as though they had better things to do. He ignored them, for unlike some things he came up with this one was truly brilliant. It was certainly up there in his best ideas.
He focused on the faces that were smiling and nodding, one in particular. He focused on England, who looked very tired and worn. He wanted to reach out to him, steal him from everything he was dealing with and take him to one of his parks, where it was quiet. Where he could tell him he would protect him, since he was now powerful enough to do so. If only he could muster up the courage to reach across the room and tell him what he wanted. Since all he wanted was him.
******
Color
I am captured by your beauty
Your unassuming grace
“America.”
He felt his heart leap into his throat, when he heard his name came out of England’s mouth. He had been looking at a tapestry beside an exquisite stain-glassed window. He turned slowly, hoping that England was not about to yell at him for what seemed the hundredth time this trip. America could admit that he deserved some of it, and hearing words of scold were better than hearing nothing. He turned and took a deep breath, hoping that the blush on his cheeks wasn’t visible. The sight he had been created with made his heart flutter.
The light that shone through the window was casting rainbows of color across his face, highlighting his hair and his eyes, the shirt that he was wearing. He wanted to touch him, follow the trails of fractured light with his fingertips, or his lips... Shoot, he should be responding, saying something back. He was at a loss for words as he looked into the other’s eyes.
“What?” Was all that he could come up with. He tilted his head slightly trying to cover up how stupid he felt at that one phrase. England merely shook his head and walked away, and America felt his heart sink. Things had gotten better between them and America wanted to tell him, wanted to say all of the things that had been building in his heart.
*******
Ultimate
I can’t hide it
Now hear my confession
America was bored, he wished they would serve the meal already, he was starving! At least his table mates were tolerable. He had been absentmindedly shredding his napkin and sending little origami birds across the table at Japan. He had grinned when the other began reciprocating the activity, sending back birds and little hopping frogs. Carefully folding each small piece distracted him from the person who sat nearby him. He would throw a glance at England every now and then, he noticed the other was looking slightly murderous and America figured it had to do with being forced into coming to France’s party.
Suddenly an arm reached over him and snatched up the paper he had been folding. He looked up giving France an innocent look, while the older scowled at him. America was a little jealous that the other man could still make such a displeased look seem elegant. He sighed in defeat and the other nation moved away. He made a face at Japan and Japan returned an amused look.
“Jeez, he’s no fun. Why can’t we just barbecue or something? That’d be so much better.” He glanced sidelong at England as he said it, and saw a small smile. His heart sped up a little bit, wondering if his statement was the cause of it. At the gap between appetizers, he watched England get up and disappear into the maze of hedges that surrounded the garden. He stared at his plate for a few minutes.
“America-san?”
“Yeah?”
“Why do you not go after him?” America looked up surprised. Japan gave him a look that said he should know what he is talking about. He did and standing up and heading off into the hedge. He ignored the knowing look Japan shot at his back.
He wandered through the plants having no idea where England had gone. He paused for a moment, trying to think when he noticed a small movement on one of the leaves of the hedge. America moved toward it. Settled on a rose was a small caterpillar. He examined the creature closer, sure it would become some kind of beautiful butterfly. He heard a soft sound and saw movement out of the corner of his eye. He saw England standing there awkwardly and waved him over. He waved back and walked over, “What are you looking at?”
America looked up and him and smiled, “Check him out!” he pointed towards the small insect larvae. He was sure England thought he was crazy in this moment, but he didn’t care. He had seen something small and beautiful and now someone he wanted to be around was standing beside him. They could be standing in a barren desert and he would still find things wonderful.
“A bug?” England asked in an incredulous voice.
“He’s cute. And I think he might be a rare one.” He blushed a little as England laughed at him.
“You’re cute.” England laughed. America’s breath caught in his throat. Had he heard right? His heart sped up.
“What?” He looked up with England, panic rising in him as he started backing away from him. He didn’t want him to leave, he reached for him as he was about to walk into a rose bush. England stumbled and he caught him before he fell into the thorns. America’s heart began to race at how close England was to him and the fact that he was in his arms, even if it was on accident.
“Careful!” he said. England pulled away, and America tried to keep the hurt from crossing his face and betraying him. He watched as England brushed himself off, his face bright red. America wondered what that meant, could it be possible that England had feelings for him too?
“Thank you.” he heard England mutter, “We should get back to the party before we are missed.” He turned away before America could respond. America felt his heart sinking, he needed to speak, he needed to say something!
“I think you’re cute too...” He winced at how silly that sounded, and held his breath when he saw England pause, slowly turning back to him. His eyes were turned towards the ground, away from him.
“What?” America came closer to him. It was now or never he decided. They were alone, for the first time in a long time. He took a deep breath to try and steady his voice.
“I said, I think you’re cute too. I really like you England.” He couldn’t watch his face as he confessed his feelings. He stared down at the toes of their shoes. He wanted to say so much more, but every time he opened his mouth to say them the words seemed swallowed up by his fear that England would not return feelings that had been festering in him for decades, perhaps even longer.
America looked up in surprise as he felt England’s fingers brush his cheek his hand hooking behind his head. He wanted to ask but before he knew it England had pressed their mouths together. His surprise quickly gave way to pure joy as he wrapped his arms around the smaller nation and held him tightly to him. He felt England’s tongue touch his lips and he immediately tangled their tongues together. He had always wondered what the other would taste like if he had the opportunity. He had always imagined he tasted like tea, but there was so much more to the taste that was England. He hoped he would have to time to puzzle out all of the flavors that was the sweetest thing he had ever tasted. America never wanted to let go, but he could feel himself getting lightheaded from the lack of air.
“Does this mean you like me too?” he asked, grinning widely. England glanced around before, leaning towards him again. America hoped he was going to kiss him. Instead, the other put his hands on his cheeks and stared into his eyes.
“I think I’ve been in love with you for longer than even I realize.” America’s heart soared as he heard the words, pulling England into another kiss.