The 4th of July.

I could never guess what to expect, I never knew whether I would hurt you by celebrating or whether I should just carry on with it as I have before and so that's what I do. I make the world know that's my day and I pray that it's been long enough for you to understand I don't intend to remind you of that hurtful time. In my eyes it was the day when something new began. By breaking away from you I finally allowed for us to get closer, you know what I mean? Probably not but I tried to explain that to you on so many occasions Iggy, it's unreal you still need me to say it. I never left you.

I am a free man; the land of the free and the brave and really Arthur, would you have it any other way? You know it as well as I do you want someone who's strong and won't bend down to anyone else's will, even if this will may be yours. However, believe me, if there is anything I could do, anything to make the 4th of July more bearable while staying true to myself, I would.

I am no longer surprised by the burning smell in my kitchen in my house in DC. I mean, come on baby. We've been together for most part of last century, but really, trying to poison me on my birthday of all days is kinda nasty, even for you. This time however it's different because I swear I could smell the sweetest scent of cake in the air earlier. (Oh Artie, if people knew how well you could bake! I have no idea how you can make all those delicious cakes and yet burn a toast.) Still, the air is filled with the burning stench and the smoke is slowly coming out of the oven making the smoke detectors go crazy, the sound making the walls shiver.

You're at your sweetest when you swear and run around the kitchen, those British insults sounding incredibly cute as you grab the gloves and get the once great cake out of the oven, now burnt crisp. Your eyes water and the alarm doesn't stop ringing. Eventually you put the baking tray down allowing for me to sweep you up in my arm. You don't need to apologise doll, I know you were making that cake for me and while you're weeping into my shoulder (like a real man mind you, loud but without any demand for pity), making my shirt wet, I try so very hard to hide my laugh from you.

xxx

So many people told me that you're not perfect. So many people tried to put me off pursuing you and they have no idea that I already know what they want to tell me. I know everything, all the flaws that others think I'm oblivious to.

I know you can snore late at night and I know that you get angry over the smallest of things. I know what it's like to be kicked out of the house for no reason and how to apologise when I haven't done anything wrong... and let me tell you that as annoying as it may be, I want you this way. I couldn't have gotten any luckier than this, having you the way you are is all I could have asked for.

I know there are times when you try to be everything I want you to be and I don't think you realise that when you are just that every moment of every day because you're Arthur, you're England and, damn baby, you're mine.

xxx

So now, when you're sitting next to me, your head resting on my shoulder I'm so very content. I love listening to you breathe and see your face, so much like an angel as you're falling asleep. I want to move my arm because, hell it's already dead numb but it would be blasphemy to wake you up and so I don't do anything but enjoy this short moment, look down at your face and ignore whatever may happen in the next hour because now, I'm with you.

xxx