"Please! I can do it! I can handle everything from now on! Just please stop the fighting! No one has to die anymore! Just please! Set me free!"

America looked the small nation in the eye. She had that look. The same look he gave England when he told him that he wanted to be an independent country.

Now, before he was able to declare his own independence, he had to wage war. He couldn't imagine what England felt when he said he wanted to be free. Now, he was in England's shoes. Now he knows how painful it feels when someone you loved, someone you spent your time and hard work to, wants to walk in their own feet for a change.

He also knew the feeling of being deprived from freedom. The freedom that he and his people deserved. And he knew what it was like. To wish that one day, his country will be free. He will be free. And he was.

So, he gave at her his usual smile. He would not stop her if that was what she wanted.

No one has to anymore.

"Okay dudette."

And with that, she burst into tears, hugging the man who helped her in countless revolts.

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The new independent country had fallen asleep. Her people were having a blast outside. Feasting and celebrating their independence.

Meanwhile, a silhouette of a grown man creeps inside her room. He slowly turns the knob without a sound and walks quietly to her bedside. He brushes a hair that was out place and strokes her cheek. She lets out a sigh of satisfaction and snuggled more to the hand, enjoying its warmth.

The man let out a sigh himself. His hand moved away from her cheek and into her black locks. She always liked it when he did that. He bent down and kissed her cheek as a farewell, then, went on his way.

So this is what England felt.

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What a short chapter.