I'm back with another story and it's USUK!
Oh yeah, thanks to the people who read and reviewed my other stories! :D
DISCLAIMER: Hetalia doesn't belong to me. I don't own HetaOni either. I only own the plot.
"Hey there, Iggy!"
England stirred from his sleep. He opened his eyes and was greeted by darkness. He sat up on the bed. He faced the person who called him, knowing that oh so familiar voice.
"What is it, America?" the Brit asked, trying not to yell at America for using his stupid nickname.
"Well it's time for breakfast, you know?" the slightly hyper nation replied.
England sighed. There was no use arguing with America. He always seemed to win, so much that sometimes it makes him wonder if America secretly super smart.
"Thank you, America."
"Anytime, Iggy." America chuckled out. England had an annoyed look, ignoring the small blush on his face.
"I told you not to call me Iggy!"
"Fine…Iggy. OWW! England that hurt!" America said, stroking the spot on his leg where England hit him.
"Serves you right, git." England said crossing his arms.
"Hey, England?" the said nation looked to his left.
"How many fingers am I holding up?" America asked nervously.
England frowned upon hearing the question. He held out his hand and tried to search for America's. His hand bumped into it. He stroked his hand up and down the American's and managed to distinguish two fingers. He held a firm grip on it.
"Two fingers, America."
"Without holding it, England."
"Tell me if you can see or not." America was answered with silence. He looked at the hand that England was still holding. He sighed and pushed it away, slightly grateful that England couldn't see his tears.
"America, look, it's only been a few months since we got out. I'm sure I'll be better-" England started but was cut off by America.
"I'm sorry. It's just that I- err… you- no… I just want you to get better, ya know?"
England felt that America wasn't telling him the truth. There was something in the American's voice that made the atmosphere around them feel... uneasy. He pushed the feeling away and tried to reach for the small fold-up table on his bed. He stopped when a hand brushed against his. America pulled his hands down. England blushed a bit and heard the clang of silverware.
"Now, England, open your mouth."
The older nation opened his mouth. He was surprised when something cold, and somewhat warm, object was put in his mouth. He recognized the taste of eggs and chewed carefully. He realized that America was helping him eat. He felt helpless but at least he got to kill his hunger. The food kept on coming and England kept on eating. He wouldn't admit it, but even though he normally wouldn't touch the food America fed him before, most of his home cooked meals tasted delicious.
"Thank you." the Englishman said, blushing.
"No problem, Igg- I mean England."
There was a small period of silence. England gathered courage to say something. America looked down on the creamy white sheets of the bed. They both looked at each other.
"Umm… I have something to say." The two of them said in unison. They both blushed a bit.
"You go first." they said again. The small blush on their faces started growing.
"No, you." both of them said. The silence seemed to consume them both.
"Well I'll go first." America said, stopping a bit as if he was unsure of what to say, "Me and Mattie-"
"It's Mattie and I, America."
"Okay. We were umm... going to play umm...video games-that's it, w-we were going to play video games in the next room!" the blue eyed nation said, laughing nervously. His face was a dangerous shade of red. England looked down.
"So what are you going to say, Iggy?" the American asked England. The older nation looked up now.
'Not today, England. Don't tell him yet…' England thought
"Okay, so I'll go now." America said, still a light shade of pink.
America left the room, or at least that's what England assumed, since he heard the slam of the door being closed. England plopped down on the bed and sighed.
'Why did I have to loose my sight? I want to see your face again, America. I want to hold you, to tell you those three little words I wanted to say to you for a long time now…'
The blind nation turned his body to the right. It had been three months since they got out of the mansion, three months since he last saw America's face. How he wished that he had not used up all his magic!
He let out a silent cry. He longed to see the world. He longed to see the sunlight. He longed to see his friends. And most importantly, he longed to see America. He longed to tell him that he loved him.
'Why didn't I just tell him earlier?'
Because it wasn't the right time.
Because he wanted to see the American's reaction.
Because he wanted to see America if he ever told him that he loves him back.
Because he wanted to see the world's reactions.
But that would mean he would have to wait, right?
'Don't worry yourself, England.'
True love can wait.
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