You sighed as you stared out the window of the living room, watching with anxious eyes as heavy snow fell and coated the streets outside until you were certain that it had piled up to be at least a foot high. You tapped your fingers rhythmically and a bit impatiently against the windowsill, your elbow resting on the rim of the sill and your chin resting in the palm of your hand. It seemed as if the whole neighborhood was completely covered in snow, and just thinking about how much had already accumulated worried you even further.
It was relatively quiet in the living room, except for the howling of the occasional gust of wind and the sound of your fingers tapping against the windowsill. Out of the corner of your eye, you were able to identify your Christmas tree, sitting in the corner of the living room and glowing brightly, lighting up the place even though no other light was on.
After a while of staring outside into the blackened, snow covered streets, you sighed before you pulled your gaze away from the window and stood upright, turning around and proceeding to head over to the couch. You sat down on it and leaned back enough so that you were able to fully relax even though your heart was beating somewhat rapidly in anxiety and you couldn't have gotten the worry that filled your body out of you.
It was Christmas Eve, and you were waiting for your husband, England, to return home from the meeting that he had to attend earlier yesterday morning. The truth was that you didn't want him to go, since it was close to Christmas and you wanted to spend the holidays with him, but being the stubborn man he was, he refused to stay home and miss going to a conference that was mandatory for him to attend.
After England had left, you were able to take the opportunity of having him out of the house to prepare Christmas dinner for the both of you, which now waited patiently in the dining room. All you had to do now was wait for him to return home.
But there was a tiny problem. Or, rather, an enormous problem.
Apparently, when you checked the weather forecast earlier in the morning, everyone was saying that there was going to be a huge snowstorm. At first, you refused to believe it, but after it started to snow that afternoon and had turned into a fierce blizzard in only a few hours, you had begun to worry.
You had called England earlier saying that there was going to be a snowstorm, and he said he would've called you if there were any complications, to which you were slightly relieved about.
He had told you that he would've been home at around 9 pm, giving the both of you time to have dinner, but as you looked at the clock right now, you felt your anxiety grow even more when you saw that it was already past 10:30, and England still hadn't called.
Where is he? you thought nervously. You thought about calling him, but if he was busy, you didn't want to bother him. Besides, if he wasn't calling you, there weren't any complications, so he was probably getting delayed at the airport or something minor like that.
You sighed before you looked forward so that your gaze was able to settle on the remote, which was placed on top of the coffee table. If you wanted to know whether or not England was going to be getting home soon, it would've been best to check the weather and see how the storm was doing.
After you grasped the remote and turned on the TV, you instantly switched over to the weather channel, where you saw a weather lady talking on the screen.
"...This storm is expected to last throughout the night and continue into the morning," she said in a professional voice. "It is estimated that there will be around two feet of snow, and thousands of buildings are likely to lose power throughout the duration of the night."
Well, there was another problem you might've had to face. If the power went out, how were you going to keep the house and yourself warm?
You sighed before you turned off the TV and lay down on the couch, turning over onto your side and closing your eyes. You were exhausted after preparing a whole buffet, and maybe if you rested your eyes for a little while, England would've arrived home sooner.
England groaned as he stared out of one of the large airport windows, looking outside at the snow that coated the ground and pounded down from the sky. He was thankful that the airport hadn't lost power yet, but what was he going to do next? The plane that he had been in arrived at the airport almost three hours ago, but by the time he had gone through the process of retrieving his luggage and all that stuff, the storm was already coming down so hard that he didn't know whether he was going to be able to get home or not. And so he remained at the airport deciding on whether or not he should've found some way to get home or waited until the storm was over.
But waiting turned out to be a bad choice, because now it seemed as if there was going to be several feet of snow on the ground by the time the morning came, and England certainly wasn't looking forward to spending the next few days in an airport. But all the taxis that were usually available after he got out of an airport weren't available to him after he had gone out this time, and that was what he usually depended on to take him home. There were also buses that took him a few blocks away from home, but he didn't think that there would've been any now.
England sighed in exhaustion and irritation before he turned his gaze away from the window and proceeded walking forward to nowhere in particular, holding his suitcase tightly in one hand. The airport was crowded with nervous people who wanted to get home or go to their families just as much as he did, and he was very reluctant to spend the night in this overcrowded place with people he didn't even know.
England paused from his walking to look up at a nearby clock. It was al little past 10:30, and he promised you that he would've been home by 9. Just thinking about you made him frown in concern and his chest tighten in worry. What if you were worried that he wasn't going to come home? He wanted to spend Christmas at home with you more than anything, but if this bloody snowstorm was going to get in his way, then he had a problem in his hands.
Maybe I should call _____ and let her know what's going on...England thought. That seemed like a good idea, since you wouldn't have worried as much about him and wouldn't have been wondering where he was. With that, he took his phone out of his pocket and proceeded to dial your number.
You were woken up from your nap by the sound of the phone ringing on the coffee table. You hadn't even known that you had fallen asleep, but when you opened your eyes and sat up before you reached out to grasp the phone, you found that you were exhausted and your eyelids felt heavy.
"H-Hello?" you asked a bit wearily after you turned the phone on and pressed the earpiece to your ear.
"_____?" a voice asked, and you were instantly able to recognize the voice of England, and as soon as you did so, a smile came to your face and your gaze brightened.
"Arthur!" you said. "Are you okay? Where are you? How is everything?"
You were able to hear him sigh through the phone. "Not so good..."
You instantly felt your happy expression droop, and your hopefulness was replaced by concern. "What do you mean 'not so good'?"
A few uncertain seconds passed before England replied. "Well, there are several people here at the airport, and the storm is much more forceful than it was previously. There seems to be no kind of available transportation here, so I don't know how long it will be until I arrive home."
"Oh no..." you murmured, feeling sadness take over your body. "Are you going to make it home in time for Christmas?"
England sighed a bit desolately. "I don't know, _____. If the blizzard keeps going the way that it is now, it might be a few days before I come home."
"No!" you cried as you sprang up from your spot on the couch. "B-But I prepared dinner for the both of us! There has to be some way for you to come home! You can't just stay there! I don't want you to!"
"I don't want to either, love," England said softly. "But the conditions outside are just too dangerous to be going anywhere. I'll figure something out, I promise."
"Okay..." you said, trying hard not to let tears of disappointment escape from your eyes. "I was really looking forward to spending Christmas with you, Arthur...."
England sighed. "I feel the same way, _____. I hope that this storm will lighten enough to allow me to safely get home before the morning, but I doubt that it will be possible."
"Yeah..." you murmured quietly. After a few more seconds passed in silence, you spoke up again, more quietly this time. "Merry Christmas, Arthur. I love you...."
"I love you too, _____," England replied in the same soft voice as yours. "Merry Christmas."
The two of you hung up, and you wondered that if this was the definition of a "merry" Christmas, you didn't even want to know the definition of a Christmas that wasn't.
You sighed in defeat before you once again rolled over onto your side and closed your eyes. If England wasn't going to be coming, the best thing you could've done was get some sleep. You blindly reached out for the blanket that lay on top of the couch before you pulled it down towards you and wrapped it around you, thankful for its warmth.
I miss you, Arthur...you thought desolately to yourself. More than anything, you wanted England back at home, sharing the Christmas dinner with you that you had worked so hard to prepare. But he wasn't, and there was nothing that you could've done to change anything.
England stared outside the window next to the front entrance of the airport with a disappointed expression on his face, listening to the sounds of several people as they were talking on their phones. The doors to the airport weren't closed, but it seemed like nobody was going to be making any attempt to leave any time soon.
England sighed as he continued to stare longingly out the window. More than anything, he wanted this storm to clear out so he could've gone home to spend Christmas with you, but he already knew that that wasn't going to happen. How he wished that there was at least some way, any kind of way, he would've been able to somehow get back home.
As he continued to stare out the window hopelessly, England became aware of the faint outline of a snowplow as it headed towards the airport, cleaning the roads of snow as if that was going to help in any way. The plow's tracks would've been covered up again in less than an hour, and plowing the streets when the storm was as forceful as it was now was a total waste of time.
England watched with a somewhat bored look as the plow proceeded to head towards the front entrance of the airport, prepared to clear out the road in front of the entrance and onward.
Suddenly, an idea popped into England's head, and the sudden thought made hope once again grow inside him.
Was there some kind of way that he could've caught the driver's attention and convinced him to take him home? There was a possibility that that might've worked, but he had to make sure that nobody would've noticed him and prevented him from doing what he thought was right.
Picking up his suitcase, which was on the floor next to him, England proceeded to head towards the front entrance of the airport, just as the plow was about to go through that area. Maybe there was a chance he would be coming home for Christmas after all.
You had fallen into a somewhat deep sleep, but what made you wearily open one eye was three loud knocks at the door. You groaned before you rubbed sleep from your eyes and sat up from your place on the couch. The dim lights of the Christmas tree were easy for your exhausted eyes to adjust to, but almost every part of your body was aching. Once you were properly sitting up, you blinked a few times before you let your gaze focus on the digital clock that was displayed on top of the TV. It was a little past 12:30 in the morning, and you wondered who possibly could've wanted you at this hour.
Three more knocks came a few seconds later, and you groaned before you got up from your place on the couch and proceeded to head towards the front door. "Coming, coming..." you grumbled. You were still disappointed over the fact that England wasn't going to be here for the holidays, and you certainly didn't feel like allowing anyone else in your house at this point.
You sighed before you irritably opened the front door, wincing as a blast of cold air hit your face. Once you took in the scene in front of you, your grumpiness and exhaustion was instantly replaced by surprise and your eyes widened, mouth dropping slightly open when you spotted no other person than England, standing in the doorway, shivering violently.
"A-Arthur...!" you stammered as you eyed him up and down, unable to believe that England had somehow managed to make it home through all this hell.
"_-____..." he gasped, his voice trembling and teeth chattering with cold. "P-Please l-let me in..."
You didn't hesitate as you grasped England by his freezing shoulders and pulled him inside, dragging his suitcase along with him. As soon as he was safely inside, you shut the door behind you before you led him over to the living room, where the both of you paused.
You turned around so that you were able to look at England as he continued to shiver, and you took the time to examine him up and down. His clothes were covered in snow as well as his hair, his hands were prominently red as well as his nose and cheeks, and his lips were pale.
"Arthur..." you said after a few moments of silence, reaching out to brush snow away from England's hair. "W-What are you doing here?"
"C-C-Cold..." England muttered as he rubbed his arms with both hands, shutting his eyes tight.
"Oh, I'm sorry," you murmured before you took off his drenched suit, letting it fall on the floor like a used rag. You grasped England by his shoulders before you guided him over to the couch and allowed him to sit. You reached out for the blanket that you had wrapped around yourself previously and draped it over his shoulders, determined to keep him warm. In an instant, England wrapped the blanket even tighter around himself before he buried his face in the warm, soft fabric as he continued to shiver with cold.
You were overjoyed that he had somehow miraculously arrived home, but the sight of him freezing in front of you made pity instantly fill your body. You sat down on the couch next to England before you wrapped your arms around him, staring at him in amazement, disbelief, shock, and a bit of confusion.
"Arthur..." you finally murmured after a few long moments of silence passed. "How did you get here? I thought you said there was no kind of transportation available for you back at the airport...."
"Th-There wasn't..." England replied quietly. He was still shivering, though not at much as before, and the observation calmed you by a little bit. "B-But I noticed a snowplow heading outside the front entrance of the airport, a-and I stepped outside and asked the driver if he would've taken me home."
"W-Well, he wanted me to pay him a rather large amount of money for letting him drive me home," England continued quietly. "I told him that his offer was too much, so we made sort of a compromise. He drove me about three fourths of the way home for a smaller amount of money, and when he dropped me off, there were about seven more blocks left until I would've arrived here..."
"Oh, no," you murmured, your eyes slightly widening in concern. "What did you do?"
England shifted his head so that he was looking at you before a tiny smile came to his face. "Well, what else do you think I was supposed to do? I walked home, but it was very hard for me since the snow had piled up very high and it was awfully freezing outside. Most of the shops were closed at that hour, but I was able to find one that was still open, and I stayed there for a while before I continued to walk home. The shop was still about five blocks away from here, and I didn't take any breaks after that."
"Oh, you poor thing," you murmured before you wrapped your arms around England and pulled him into a tight hug, resting your chin on his shoulder. "Don't you have any idea of how dangerous it might've been for you to walk such a long distance through such a fierce storm? You could've gotten frostbite or the cold would've been too much for you and you might've gotten unconscious and nobody would've found you, or worse...!"
"B-But I had to..." England replied quietly. "I knew how much you wanted to spend Christmas with me, and I felt the same way, so I was determined to arrive home even if it meant nearly getting frostbitten. Also, I didn't feel like spending my Christmas in a packed airport full of strangers."
You pulled away from England enough so that you were able to look up and meet his gaze, and as soon as you did, he gave you a tiny, exhausted smile. You felt tears start to form on the edges of your eyes, and they quickly escaped and trickled down your cheeks before you could've stopped them. "I love you, Arthur...." you murmured before you leaned forward so that you were able to kiss his slightly freezing lips. As soon as you pulled away and met his gaze once again, you smiled. "I'm so happy that you're here. I never thought that you would've gotten the chance to spend Christmas here after the storm began."
England sighed before he extended a hand and wiped the tears away from your face with his slightly cold fingers. "I never thought so, either," he replied quietly. "You don't know how relieved I am to be here with you instead of in that crowded airport."
You smiled once again before you nuzzled your face against his slightly damp shirt, thankful that his previous coldness was gone and was replaced by warmth. A few moments passed in silence, and you almost jumped in surprise when England let out a somewhat loud sneeze.
"Silly Arthur," you giggled as you removed your face from his shirt and sat in an upright position once again so that you were able to look at him. "Now you're going to get sick since you've been out in the cold for so long..."
England sighed before he dropped his gaze down to his hands a bit shamefully. "I-I'm sorry...."
You smiled before you leaned forward and gently kissed his nose. "You have nothing to be sorry about. I would rather have you sick and use this opportunity to take care of you than have you stuck in an airport for who knows how long."
"Yes...I believe you're right," England said quietly after a few seconds of silence as he kept his gaze fixed on his hands.
"Of course I'm right," you said happily. A few moments passed before he covered his mouth with his hand and let out a yawn. "Are you tired, Arthur?" you asked softly.
England sighed in exhaustion. "After walking seven blocks through a blizzard, waiting in an airport for over three hours, and managing to stay awake until 1 in the morning, do you think I would not be tired?"
You smiled. "Well, our Christmas dinner will have to be saved for later, I guess. Why don't you go and get undressed while I put all the food away?"
England did as you asked, and after he had left, you picked up his suit, which still lay like a rag on the floor, and hung it in its proper place on the coat hanger. You arrived in the dining room, where all the food that you had worked so hard to prepare lay, before you one by one began stacking everything into the refrigerator in the kitchen, thinking that no harm would've been done to eat everything later on in the evening instead of now. After all, it was already Christmas, and you didn't feel like having a feast when both you and England were already exhausted.
Once you finally put all the food away, your eyelids felt like heavyweights and your whole body was aching with exhaustion. You wanted nothing more than to get into your pajamas and fall asleep, and that was exactly what you were prepared to do.
After you had taken a shower and changed into your pajamas, you walked into the bedroom before you turned on the light, smiling when you saw that England had already fallen asleep comfortably under the covers. You turned off the light before you walked over to the bed and lay down on it as well, pulling the covers over you enough so that they went up to your shoulders.
You turned over onto your side so that you were facing England, his outline faint under the poor light. It was still hard for you to believe that he was now safe in your home, away from the blizzard, when just a few hours ago, you doubted that he was going to be spending Christmas here with you. And even though he was likely going to get ill from being out in the freezing cold for so long, you didn't mind as long as you knew he was here with you and the both of you were able to spend the holidays together.
"Merry Christmas, Arthur," you murmured before you wrapped your arms around England and closed your eyes. And if this was the definition of a "merry" Christmas, you already knew what it felt like to be living through one that wasn't, and you were glad that for once, things finally went in the way that you had hoped.