Dance With The Devil- EnglandxReader

Here I stand, helpless and left for dead.
Close your eyes, so many days go by.
Easy to find what's wrong, harder to find what's right.

"Where were you!?" Arthur said softly, shock clouding his mind and judgement. He was unable to comprehend what he could see before him, his eyes widened in alarm. "Please, _____, tell me!" It seemed so strange, so wrong in a way.
"I...I don't understand. We've never even met!" The Englishmans face fell. It was _____. His ______, and she didn't even remember him!
"I thought you were dead, I loved you...I believed in you! What the hell happened!?" He was frantic, hoping all the other nations could see her too. Francis seemed to have a sympathetic expression, looking on in the way perhaps a father would.
"Angleterre, she can't remember a thing. Don't force it upon her."
"But-" After all that time...Arthur felt the heart-break overwhelme him again tenfold.
"That's the past. It's almost been a year, and she isn't the same person as she was before. She's one of us now."
Arthur's bottom lip trembled as he eased himself shakily into his seat. This wasn't happening. This was too surreal for words. He closed his eyes and massaged his temples as images of blood-stained ground and explosions began to echo through his mind. His heart was racing, and he still couldn't grasp the situation. All the while, _____ watched him blankly, wondering how this beautiful stranger could know her so well; why he claimed that they were in love. Arthur himself wondered why he wasn't as ecstatic as he thought he'd be.

I believe in you, I can show you that I can see right through all your empty lies.
I won't stay long, in this world so wrong.

"_-_____?" It was after the meeting, and Arthur tapped the girl on the shoulder. She turned, smiling sadly.
"Um...Arthur, was it?" She looked genuinely upset "I'm sorry, I just can't-"
She didn't get an opportunity to finish, Arthur crashing his lips passionately against hers. "Please remember me..._____, my _____...." He murmured, and she simply pulled back. Her whole body began to thrum with heat and delight, something about that desperate guesture seemed so right. "Please...I can show you what we were. I can teach you to love me again..." Arthur panted, then letting his hands drop into _____'s and entwining their fingers. "This has to be a lie." He whispered breathily "I can't believe this is even happening..."

Say goodbye, as we dance with the devil tonight.
Don't you dare look at him in the eye, as we dance with the devil tonight?

Trembling, crawling across my skin.
Feeling your cold dead eyes, stealing the life of mine.

______ stared down at the slightly torn, faded old photographs. She'd already cried, not believing that it was her at first; but as if someone had turned a light on, she was slowly beginning to remember. Arthur still couldn't get the image of her cold, dead eyes out of his head though. He had seen her laying there amongst the bricks, had wailed curses into the heavy night air, tainted with the scent of gunpowder. She had been taken from him, and somehow she had been given back. It wasn't in a way that he'd ever have anticipated though. ______, feeling inclined to embrace the contemplative man, wrapped her arms around him from behind. Her minty breath ghosted over his skin, making it crawl. She always did that Before. The Englishman had to hold back tears.
"Arthur?" _____ questioned timidly, seeing them beginning to fall. "I-I'm sorry..."
"I-It's not your fault. It's mine..." He stared the girl level-headedly in the eyes "...Francis was right, I shouldn't force this on you if you can't remember." His voice was melancholy, heavy with longing and bitterness. He almost didn't feel the lips, feather-light against his own.
"B-But I am remembering, I know it!" She sounded determined, and it pained Arthur to see her so desperate too. He doubted she really was. "I can remember that...that train journey, into the country-side before the war..." England felt his eyes widen. She was right. "And then, when we came back to London it was like all hell had broken loose. You insisted that I stay back where we'd visited while you fought."
"And if you had things would have played out differently."
"Aren't you happy that I can remember though?"
Arthur didn't need to say, returning the gentle kiss and deepening it. He could recall as clear as day the picnic they'd had that afternoon, the tender carresses in the quaint cottage bedroom afterwards in the evening. It was all so bittersweet. But, for the first time in a long while, he felt slightly happier.

I believe in you, I can show you that I can see right through all your empty lies.

I won't last long, in this world so wrong.
Hold on. Hold on.

His _____ was finally back. Her dance with the devil, her escapade with death had finally been forgotten. As the two, finally lovers again after being seperated in ways that they never could have anticipated, lay entwined in eachothers arms; Arthur finally realised that it was perhaps for the best that he didn't recount every detail of _____'s end. It would be best for them to hold on to eachother, to have a brand new start. There were no more empty lies, desperate attemps at remembering. Now they suddenly could reminisce about it all; every touch they made finally seemed familar and comforting. All because they believed in eachother.
As _____ began to slumber softly in his slender grasp, Arthur vowed to himself that he'd never let her go again. That he'd never find any cause to potentially lose her to anyone else for the rest of time.
"I love you..." He whispered softly, at last complete again.


Hold on. Hold on.