Disclaimer: I obviously do not own Hetalia or Platonic (The poem, anyway). If I did, do you honestly think I would need to post a story on here instead of publishing it in the manga itself? And if I did own Hetalia, Germany and Italy would have made tiny little babies together forever ago.

This is kind of a companion fic to "I Wish I Wasn't Alone" just because I wanted America to have some sort of chance at getting that love returned. But, it's also not a companion fic, because it mentions squat from the first fic. But, hey, whatever floats your boat.

I knew it the first of the summer
I knew it the same at the end
That you and your love were plighted
But couldn't you be my friend

America smiled happily as the golden rays of sunlight touched his skin, warming him up to a nice temperature. "Come on out, Artie. It's feels awesome!"

Said Brit scowled at the idiot in the yard. Honestly, where did he go wrong?

America frowned lightly at the scowl he received. Really, he knew he kinda ruined things with the guy and all, but couldn't they be friends!? It's not like they could be anything more, what with England in love with Francey-Pants and all.

Couldn't we sit in the twilight
Couldn't we walk on the shore
With only a pleasant friendship
To bind us, and nothing more

America strolled down the beach alone, hands stuffed in his jean pockets. His shoes were left in his car, the sand warm under his bare feet. The sun was setting on the horizon, the water a lulling orange color. It was nearing twilight, so he should be heading back home soon. Where his object of unrequited love waited, his mind reminded him bitterly.

America let an unusual look cross his face – a scowl. That voice in his head had no right! So what if he was in love with his former caretaker? So what if his feelings would never be returned? So what if they couldn't even be friends because England can't get over the Revolution which was a good 200 years ago? So what if... So what if he slapped on a mask every fucking day? Does it really matter? Nobody cared.

America shook his head. He really needed to stop thinking depressing stuff like that up. He turned around to head back to his car, imagining what it would be like to walk along the shore with England.

There was not a word of folly
Spoken between us two
Though we lingered oft in the garden
Till the roses were wet with dew

America and England walked through the younger nation's garden in the shining moonlight. He really only had it for England, since the dude loved to grow roses and other plants, and his garden was overflowing with them.

Neither could sleep for some reason, so they just took a nice stroll, much to the Brit's protest. He would never admit it, but England was actually enjoying himself in the other's presence.

Not a single joke was uttered as they walked the brick path around the garden. A rare comfortable silence settled over them, just looking at the red, white, and blue roses.

We touched on a thousand subjects –
The moon and the worlds above –
And our talk was tinctured with science
And everything else, save love

They talked about everything from the weather, moon, flowers, anything that came to their mind. Science may not have been England's strong suit, but it was certainly America's. He was quite shocked to hear the complicated scientific theories said in an unusually serious tone from America. The boy was not all that stupid, apparently.

America was enjoying himself. Talking about what he loved with who he loved. He was very careful not to let the feeling spill out of his lips. If he did, he didn't think the elder nation would speak to him for a good century or more.

A wholly Platonic friendship
You said I had proven to you
Could bind two people
The whole long season through

England was yet again shocked as he came to realize as the summer season passed that America was not so bad to be around. Yes, he could be a bloody git every now and then, but he felt as if the boy really was trying to form a friendship between them. He told the teenager so one afternoon, gaining a shining smile with something obviously hidden behind it.

He did not question it in the least, but he was curious. One night, he had gone out of the guest room America had kindly given him to get a midnight glass of herbal tea to help him sleep, when he heard a sound from America's room. He paused and listened, hearing a sound familiar to one he had not heard from the nation since he was a child and it was storming outside.

The sound of sobbing.

It broke the Brit's heart, but he dare not go in. America could handle himself, couldn't he? He proved that himself after the Revolution. He obviously did not need England, no matter how much the other needed him.

With never a thought of flirting
Though both were in their youth
What would you have said, my love
If you had known the truth

America and England's friendship was developing quite well, much to America's joy and dismay. Joy because they finally had a relationship that was not full of pointless arguing. Dismay because... Well, how many people have gotten out of the "friend-zone" in real life, huh? Sure, it happened in books and films all the time, but almost never in real life. It was practically unheard of!

America didn't dare flirt with England, for fear of being severely injured by the Brit or his French boyfriend. Or both.

He still felt the need to tell England everything. From the short time he hated him as a colony, to the love he developed that was much more than a strong brotherly love. But, how would England react? Slap him, punch him, kick him where the sun don't shine? Maybe he would cut all ties with the nation. No, America couldn't take that. He couldn't take being ignored by his love.

Even if it meant they would only ever be friends, it was okay. As long as England was happy, right?

What would you have done, I wonder
Had I gone on my knees to you
And told you my passionate story
There in the dusk and the dew

America and England were taking a midnight stroll through the garden again. The dew had settled on the delicate rose petals, shining like diamonds in the oil lamps America had set up in his garden. He may be a majorly advanced country, but he liked old-fashioned stuff too!

America glanced over at England, spotting a small smile on the nation's face.

He smiled. At least England was happy, right? Better not ruin it by admitting everything – a thought that popped in the young country's head much more often than it should.

My burning, burdensome story
Hidden and hushed so long—
My story of hopeless loving—
Say, would you have thought it wrong

His head really should shut up. He was one more utterance from his conscious away from just spilling everything. Why was he thinking about it now, of all times!? Seriously, he should just be enjoying this moment with Iggy, since it rarely ever happened.

"America?" England snapped.

Said nation stopped to see his elder three inches from his face. "Ah, sorry dude. What did you say?" He desperately tried to ignore the short distance between them and how if he just leaned in a bit closer –

England sighed and stepped away. "I asked you if something was the matter. You seem a bit... Spacey." Yes, the boy was like that most of the time, but ever since England over-heard him that night, he had been observing America closely, attempting to figure out just what was going on in his head.

America was shocked briefly before smiling. "Yeah Artie, I'm fine!" Did he let his mask slip?

England rolled his eyes, continuing his path with the American by his side.

Momentarily, England felt America's hand brush his.

So close, and yet so far, a voice muttered in America's head.

Maybe the entire summer wouldn't even be close to enough time.

But I fought with my heart and conquered
I hid my wound from sight
You were going away in the morning
And I said a calm good-night

America lay on the couch, staring at the ceiling. It was about midnight, England had already gone to bed after they bid each other good night. Well, he was leaving in the morning, so he did need his rest.

Weird how summer passes so fast. They got all the business they needed to handle done the week before, so they were just hanging out with each other all day.

That time was over now.

God damn it, he didn't know when England would ever agree to spending the entire summer with him again – he doubted he ever would. Why did it have to end so quickly!?

America slipped his glasses off and set them on his chest before covering his sky blue orbs with his arm. He was too tired to move to his bed. England would just nag him in the morning when he woke up about "not moving to the bed like a sane person."

When he woke up though, he was under his favorite quilt and his glasses were on the coffee table. Beside it, was a cup. America slipped on his glasses and saw the mug was filled with coffee. He picked it up carefully and took a sip.

Perfect.

It was then he realized the house felt... Empty. What if England had already left!? America looked at the clock on the wall and saw it was 9 PM.

Yep, he already left.

America sighed and continued sipping his coffee, depressed England left already without saying goodbye. He went to set his coffee cup back on the table when he noticed a yellow sticky note stuck to the oak surface. America picked it up and read it over.

America,

You git, you fell asleep on the couch! Why did you not go to your bed like a sane man? Oh, whatever. You were shivering in your sleep, so I put a quilt on you. I'm only telling you because if I didn't, you would think it was a ghost. I also made you a cup of coffee. We both know how you enjoy it in the morning.

Anyway, I am sorry for not telling you goodbye. Good luck with that ache you will have from sleeping on the bloody couch.

- England

America smiled. It was kinda unlike England to do something kind for him. But, It was... nice.

But now when I sit in the twilight
Or when I walk by the sea
That friendship, quite Platonic
Comes surging over me

America sat on the beach, staring out at the horizon as night descended on the Eastern coast.

It was already the beginning of Winter, so he was in heavier clothing. He wished for summer again. For the warm weather, the midnight walks, the chats, the jokes, the friendship. Especially the friendship.

America was hoping, praying that England didn't just totally forget about a few months ago. Those were times America would treasure forever. It was the first time he was probably truly happy since the Revolution.

And a passionate longing fills me
For the roses, the dusk, the dew
For the beautiful summer vanished
For the moonlight walks—and you

America lay on his couch, staring at the ceiling. He sighed and slipped his glasses off, setting them on his chest.

He really should not be thinking about England this much! The dude doesn't even like him half the time, so why the fuck would he ever love him?

There was a knock at the door. America didn't look up. He hadn't locked his door anyway. "It's open!"

The front door opened and slammed. "Honestly, you git, you need to lock your door."

America sat up straight, fumbling for his glasses.

"A-Artie? Dude, what are you doing here?" he questioned.

England huffed and crossed his arms. "The stupid frog pissed me off. Mind if I stay here?"

Honestly, France hadn't pissed him off that day. He and France had broken up years ago, so the only reason they would be in contact is if they needed to discuss something or France wanted to annoy him. He was only here because... Oh bloody Hell, he had no idea why he was in America, let alone America's house.

The younger nation smiled brightly. "Sure dude! Stay as long as you want!"

A smile appeared on England's lips. "Thank you Alfred."

America's smile widened, the slightest tint of pink from the use of his human name appeared on his cheeks. "No problem Arthur." He smirked when he saw a tint of pink on England's cheeks. He laughed when the older nation stormed up to him and hit him on the back of the head.

Maybe this wasn't the end of the roses, the midnight walks, the dusk and the dew.

A/N: Not my best work, but pretty damn close, in my opinion. America is my favorite character to write (next to Prussia, of course) and I hope I did my baby boy justice. Please write a review and favorite it! It makes me very happy, and it would absolutely count as your good dead of the day.