Why was it that you seemed to be the only one to stay awake at meetings? Was it because you weren't a nation, or because you were just weird and interested in these things? As everyone around you was on the verge of sleep, you watched England give his speech. America yawned loudly, as if trying to send the older nation a message of how everyone else was feeling.
"Alfred, do quit that," the Brit said harshly. The American closed him mouth, but ended up putting his head down for a nap. You, on the other hand, watched with excitement as the blonde man spoke before everyone. Despite the fact that you worked for him, and that he knew very well what he was telling them, you still took notes.
In the past two years, you had become Arthur Kirkland's personal assistant, and in that time, you'd accidentally discovered the well-kept secret of the nations' true identities, that they were more than mere humans. Arthur had been terrified when the words slipped out of his tongue (or rather, he was terrified the next day when he realized he'd told you while drinking). But you were happy to know about it, and started asking questions about history, instead of blabbing to the world.
You took notes and paid attention, more so than any of the nations. Beside you, Greece slept, with a cat on his head. You had no clue how he did it, but Greece always managed to sneak cute little animals into the meetings. By the time Arthur was done speaking, you were the only one awake.
You'd expected many of the nations to fall asleep, but this was worse than usual. Even Germany, the serious one that kept everything in order at these meetings, had passed out on you.
England sighed and look to you. "They don't listen to a word I say," he muttered. You placed a hand on his shoulder comfortingly.
"I listened," you told him with a shaky smile.
"You always listen. It's your job." Looking around the room, he realized just how many had fallen asleep. He scribbled a note about leaving, and placed it on the table before heading out the door. You followed closely behind, and the two of you walked quickly out to the parking lot. Like a gentleman, Arthur opened the car door for you.
"At least we have to Christmas party to look forward to," you told him with a grin. You'd been wanting to go to that for a while now. But, being that it was at America's house, you almost doubted that Arthur would go. And if he wasn't going, you wouldn't be either.
"I suppose," he said, pulling onto the road. "For now, let's just get home." You nodded silently.
There you were, sitting at a table at the party, watching all of the nations interact. It always amused you how they spoke to one another, in different languages depending on who they were speaking to, and always adding their own verbal tics to the conversation. Half the time, you couldn't understand a word of what was being said, especially when the Asian nations started rambling in their native tongues.
Though you sometimes forgot what was going on, and despite the fact that most of the people in the room seemed to ignore you, you were having a good time. It was fun to observe from the sidelines. You liked to see how the world was turning.
A hand touched your shoulder lightly. You looked up to see England standing there in the ugliest Christmas sweater you'd ever seen. He seemed to choose a worse one every year, though you never voiced that opinion. It was cute how he did that, anyway.
"May I take this seat?" he asked. You nodded quickly, and the man sat beside you. "America can't seem to hold his tongue when he's drunk. Neither can anyone else here."
You had to laugh at that. "As if you could hold your drinks any better."
"I could," he said. You give a smile and a roll of your eyes.
"And what would you do when you were thoroughly drunk, and realized you were wrong." England gave you a smirk.
"That depends. Would you be too drunk to remember in the morning?" You bit your, contemplating.
"Then I would kiss you and confess my love. That way you'd forget and it wouldn't be awkward in the morning."
The two of you stared at one another for quite some time. It wasn't a rude stare, nor an awkward one. It was just a silent gaze into his eyes as you thought over his words. You heart was pounding from the information that had left his lips, and you wondered momentarily if he was already drunk. But you knew that he wasn't. You knew the words were true.
And that made you happy in a way you could never explain. You moved your hand from under the table to rest on his. He leaned in, and gave you a small kiss on the lips. When he pulled away, you gave a smile.
"I would do the same thing."