APH America One Shots

Drabble

This is just a weird drabble I wrote when I was a 13 year old who had no idea how to write. I just wanted to put something while I get over writer's block. I think there's PruAme in, like, one sentence. Anyways, enjoy whatever this is!

England is literally my third favorite character, so why do I write him as the bad guy all the time😂

England's POV

He was leaving him just like everyone else had. How could he have been so naive as to think this time would be different? He raised him up in the world, took care of him and defended him, and this is how he repaid him?!
He wanted independent? Ha! He'll never get that chance. If Arthur couldn't have him, no one could.

"America! Look at me you coward!"

The sound of a gunshot rang through the air as he pulled the trigger. He saw the look of pain, shock, and betrayal in those blue eyes that he had grown to care for. How funny that the boy who made up stories about being a hero one day was shot down like a common criminal. It was almost funny that, in some way, he finally had the freedom he so desperately wanted.

Arthur waited for the feeling of triumph that usually came to him after he defeated an enemy. But all he felt was pain, like needles digging into his insides. Every breathe was painful as if oxygen seized to exist. He fell to his knees, vaguely aware of the Frenchman who was screaming at him, calling a murderer. He watched that damned Prussian(who had no business in this war) kneel besides the boy trying in vain to bring back the life in those blue eyes. The look of unadulterated grief that came into the man's eyes when he realized nothing could be done reminded Arthur of a lover who had lost their other half. But what hurt the most was seeing his other boy, who was faithful to him through and through, even agreeing to fight by his side to fix the mess that his brother created, gazed at him as is if he were a monster.

"You said you wouldn't hurt him. You killed him. You killed my little brother," he said,his already soft voice no more than a horrified whisper.

He was right. Alfred wasn't his enemy. He was just a child. And the powerful and feared Arthur Kirkland killed him in cold blood.