EnglandxReader - Draw Me - Pt. 2

England walked over to Italy's again, ready to make yet another master piece. It had been a year since he'd learned the basics from books, videos, and Italy himself. England's progression really impressed Italy, making him feel like an amazing teacher, but little did he know that England had quite the natural hand for art as well. Either way, Italy was proud of his so called pupil; well, that's how he looked at England. England never minded Italy's opinion; he respected it and learned from it all the time, especially when it was an art criticism. It made England happier because he knew he was learning from every mistake.
"Hey Feliciano! Are you ready to make more art?" He smiled, grabbing a new canvas from the closet.
"Ciao Arthur! Si! I'm always ready to make art, you know." He laughed, grabbing the paint brushes from the cabinet in the hallway. They met back in the art room that was now covered with art and doodles, drawings and sketches. It was more colorful and alive ever since England had learned art and practiced with Italy every day. They painted things like plants and fruits, bugs and animals; and they'd moved on o things such as faces, vases, hands, pots, buildings, forests, and majestic worlds of their own imagination. England was about to learn how to paint humans from the ground up, just by looking at them.
His former art had been sold many time all over different parts of Europe and Asia. it made him and Italy more gracious than ever, and they'd celebrated after hearing the amazing news. He began selling his art to make commission and extra money in his pocket. It worked just as well as he'd imagined. And he thanked Italy everyday for such a succession and privilege. He couldn't wait another second to learn how to paint human bodies from the root of his imagination; after that, he could learn to paint actual humans. And that was his main goal throughout his entire experience of learning art. He wanted to paint people to make them happy; he especially wanted to paint the one he loved. He could only imagine what an honor that'd be for him to experience.
England copied every stroke Italy had made, but only with different colored paint on their brushes. Italy decided to play music; he played the Gipsy Kings. It was Grandpa Rome's favorite group, and Italy loved them just like his grandfather. They danced around in the room to the Italian music, yelling out the lyrics "Volare", letting their voices bounce off the walls. They were painting pasta; funny thing, huh? Italy was in the mood to draw beautiful pasta on the very white of his canvas, and England wanted to give it a try since scones were too easy to paint. After all, they were just round biscuits of steel.
They stroked, laughing and joking around, yet they'd payed close attention to each color they'd mixed and lay in between every line. England licked his lips as he made sure to paint the yellow paste color in the very thin black lines in which outlined the noodles. They reached for the red paint, ready to spread some tomato sauce on their scrumptious looking pasta.
"Mmhm! There we go!" Italy had one paintbrush  in his mouth, holding the other paintbrush in his right hand, and the paint plate in his left. England chuckled at Italy's silly, childish gestures. It was so amusing to watch Italy paint, especially since he was quite incredible. England watched how Italy painted the last stroke of red on the last no longer lonesome noodle. it was incredible. That didn't even come close to describing England's thoughts on the beautiful piece. He never knew pasta could look so gorgeous, so unique, and so delightful. It was pasta for crying out loud! It made him smile and tilt his head just a bit, realizing that because Italy had painted it, it looked exquisite. italy never failed to make pasta look that incredible; whether it was a statue, or just a sketch. The shading, colors, and framework was simply mind blowing.
"T-that…is incredible Feli! Really….h-h-how'd you-'
"Grazie Arthur! I really appreciate your compliments; you're learning a lot faster than I expected, you know." His cheeks were a pale pink. "And it's all in the hand, Arthur. it-it's just something you know…it's something that comes to you naturally." England listened attentively to every word that came out of Italy's mouth; admiring the wisdom he held. England slowly finished his, staring at it and scrutinizing it to see if there was a little mistake. He compared it to Italy's, and surprisingly yet again, it was close to Italy's. They both stood there, dumbstruck. "WOW! Arthur, you can draw like nobody's business! I mean, really! You've learned faster than anyone I've ever met who could draw. It…it's amazing…"
"W-well, thank you Feliciano. I really appreciate your compliments as well…I mean, really." His face was as red as Italy's, and he suddenly felt his eyes burning.
"You know…from the looks of all of your art and progression…you just might be naturally talented and blessed with drawing, Arthur." Italy looked closely at the drawing, and around the room at his other drawings; then back to England. He put his hand on his shoulder with the last compliment that came out of his mouth.
"N-no…it can't be. I was never able to do this before, Feliciano. Never. I mean, not even in school. I recall this one time when we had to draw our family in a goofy cartoonish way, and…I-I…" He looked down at his feet that were drawing invisible shapes into the floor. "I couldn't even draw stick figures!! It-it was so embarrassing and shameful! I mean, I've always loved art; ever since I was a little boy. But, I could never produce any art work. Not like you, at least; and now I'm a grown man and I've only been drawing for a year."
"And you're fantastic!" Italy flailed his arms out to emphasize how much he admired England's persistence in art. He never gave up on art; it's been his most favorite thing in the entire world. And finally…finally; he learned how to make it. He learned how to make real art of his own. "England, all those years paid off in a way…you're almost as good as I am. It's truly magnificent." Italy gave England a simple smile, lighting England's whole world up. He made him feel a heck of a lot better than he felt a few seconds before. He let his small tears out, and they tickled his cheek. He then hugged Italy, soft and tight. But not too tight; he loved art so much; it was something he'd never wanted to let go of, ever. And he never thought he' see the day when he'd have to kiss it goodbye.
"Thank you, Feli. Thank you so much for helping me learn your amazing ways of art…I know it sounds weird, but I mean it. You've taught me everything I know. Therefore, you shall receive half credit for all the art I make and sell. And I promise, I'll never leave you or art itself behind." Italy and England hugged once more, smiling. They quickly removed from each other, feeling a little too close for a second.
"You're extremely welcome, England…but I don't know why you're thanking me, I mean…it's what friends do. …C'mon, let's go teach you how to draw human bodies from your imagination." Italy grabbed his arm and led him to get more paintbrushes and paper. They were in the art room for hours, making new pictures of fictional characters. England had quite the imagination. He drew unicorns and ponies, mermaids and fairies; even wizards and kings. He loved painting kings; he grew up around the age of kings. He especially admired King Arthur. He'd studied art from paintings of this King, adoring the very detail of every painting.
He painted all day with Italy, almost mastering the art of painting humans. England was so proud and happy; he was learning, and he was learning quick. Him and Italy had finished 3 detailed paintings that day, and England wanted to celebrate. He wanted to take her--you out on a date; the one he'd loved so very much. He wanted to let you know of everything that had happened in the past year, and he knew that you knew that he'd loved you. England had loved you so much; he'd send you flowers and chocolates, doodles and love messages. They were so finely written, and soon, you thought you were falling in love as well.
England ran out the door and straight home, where he'd gotten ready. He took a quick shower and put on a fine black tuxedo with a grey tie and red rose. He sleeked his hair back, kind of like Germany's, but more messy like. And he sprayed just enough Calvin Clein cologne all over himself. He looked amazingly dashing and fancy; nonetheless he was extremely handsome. He ran down to the corner floral shop and bought a dozen carnations that smelled gorgeous. He walked out and walked to the park. It was almost 6:30pm, and luckily the sun was still out just a bit. He always knew where to meet you; for he did every other day of the week. it was Friday, and he could see that you were sitting on the bench. You were alone, reading your favorite book "Sundays At Tiffany's" by James Patterson. You both loved that author. He smiled as he watched you, running effortlessly to see you and ask you out that night. You'd looked even more stunning than before; it seemed that you'd gotten more beautiful every day.
"_-__! …___. I'm here."
"Huh? Arthur!" You jumped to her feet and hugged him tightly, making him warmer inside. You smelled very nice, like cherry blossoms.
"This is for you, ___. You look more beautiful than before." You blushed at his accent, pondering about how cute it was. You kindly took them from him.
"For me? I-I don't know what to day, Arthur. And you look incredibly handsome, if I do say so." You winked at him, just before smelling the flowers. "They're gorgeous! And they smell so very nice!" You giggled as you incessantly inhaled the wonderful scent.
"There's nothing for you to say, ___, except that you'll go in a date with me." He curtseyed and lightly pecked your hand, making you feel like a princess. You giggled once more, cheeks as red as the carnations in your hand.
"Yes…I accept, Arthur." You smiled as he grabbed your hand and led you in front of him. He held your hand on the way to the taxi, and you both were off. He took you to an Italian restaurant, wanting to try pasta himself. It'd always reminded him of his great friend Italy; it especially reminded him of the pasta painting they both made earlier that day. It was a rich restaurant, more glorifying than most churches. It was one of the biggest, most fanciest 5 star restaurants in town; you really felt like a princess after walking in. You both were seated, and you both had ordered.

~~~~The Next Day ~~~~

England had been so inspired by the art he and Italy had been making. A new idea popped up in his head; what if he could make that art come to life? What if all of the gorgeous master pieces that he and Italy had been making can become real? The thought sent shivers down his spine and butterflies fluttered in his tummy. He smiled and ran to his room to grab the black chalk and spell book for his spells, and a few paintings. He grabbed the chalk and drew the star on the wooden floor boards. He then grabbed his spell book and skimmed through the small foreign text. He said the words, hoping it'd work the first time.
It didn't. Maybe he said it wrong; he tried again. He didn't want to give up; after all, it was art. He loved it the way it was; but if he could make it come to life, that'd make the world a better place. He could make, not only his, but other peoples' art come to life, and that alone sounded like a miracle. He tried over again; saying the magic words, he'd held the book in one hand and held his other hand high in the air, making different gestures with his boney fingers. But, it didn't work…again. He tilted his head at the floor, oping he didn't draw the star incorrectly. It was perfect the way it was. What could it be? He tried once more, but this time, he'd dropped the book to the ground and used both hands. He rubbed his hands together, closing his eyes. After saying the statement one more time, he threw his hands in the air and jerked his head back, slowly opening his eyes. Rays shined through his eye, mouth, and finger nails, and suddenly, an orb came out from the floor boards. The rapid wind had stopped, and the plae was a bit of a mess.
England had no clue what had just happened, but he was afraid it wasn't too good of news. The black orb bounced off the walls and floor, and finally it stopped, right in front of his pointy nose.
"Ahhh! Wh-what are you?" It hissed at him, moving rapidly in front of him. It began to speak, sounding like a demon.
"Cuuurrrssssssssssseee….Cuuuuuuurrrrrrrrrsssssssseeee!" It screeched the last time it had said "curse", and it disappeared. The anonymous wind grew strong again for a few seconds as the orb was sucked back into the ground where the painting lay. England tried figuring out what had just happened, but he didn't understand at all. He cleaned everything up and put his paintings back where they were. He decided not to combine magic with art anymore, especially after what had just happened. He was scared, and his heart was pumping fast. That was definitely the last time he was going to mess with black magic. He thought about the failure of making art come to life; he thought it could work. And he didn't want to give up on this new idea. It could probably work.
He took a shower and headed to bed, trying to get the thought out of his head; he so badly wanted to mix art and magic. It'd be incredible! But sadly, it couldn't work…it didn't work the way he thought it would. He turned the lights off and fell asleep from his deep thoughts.

~~~~ One Month Later ~~~~

"Feliciano! Great news! I'm going to have private art sessions where I can view someone in a certain pose and paint them. Isn't it great?! I-I've never been offered something like this before…and I get paid after every painting I make." England had a huge smile on his face as he and Italy rejoiced. They pranced around the room, skipping and jumping.
"Really Arthur?! That…that's amazing!!!!! Veeeee!! My pupil has learned so much; I can't believe how much you've learned in such little time! You're amazing, Arthur, and you've earned every bit of what you're getting!" Italy smiled at him, holding both his hands and jumping everywhere. England was almost crying again; Italy had been more than good to England. It was amazing what he could do to encourage England. They both loved each other like brothers, and they both enjoyed art more than anything else. Italy made England his special kind of pasta as they briefly celebrated before England had to attend his new job. They both ate the delicious pasta, and England got his things and said goodbye to Italy. After arriving at his destination, he quickly made his way inside and was told what room to go to. He sat there and waited. After his art had been observed from 3 international judges, they accepted England. He was going to make art and money. Finally; he'd been wanting to do this for the longest time, and it was going to happen; thanks to Italy.
There was a small line of men and women, waiting to be painted. He was only allowed 3 customers a day, but since it was his first day on the job, he was only allowed one. It was a beautiful pregnant women; she had golden blonde, wavy hair that reached her mid back. England smiled, staring into her kind deep blue eyes. He knew how much a baby meant; it was amazing when you had a child to take care of. Starting a family was something England had admired for quite some time. Especially after falling in love with you; he'd pretty much planned out his life with you. And children were definitely somewhere in his thoughts.
"Okay; so, we'll set you up like this…and the sheets could go here, and…oh! We'll let your tummy show; that baby is going to love this photo…trust me." The kind lady giggled at England, enjoying his humor. She laid there, posing for him. After a few seconds, he'd begun painting her. There was quiet, symphonic music in the back ground that included harps and violins, along with a bit of piano. It was the perfect temperature in the room, and everything was just right. England focused on her, painting her every detail, just like Italy had taught him and done himself. Every stroke made a small noise that was like music to England's ears; he knew that his first painting was going to be incredible, he neither of them could wait for it to be done.
After about 40 minutes, England was done. He lightly blew on the paint, helping it dry. He washed his hands in the sink next to the door ad wiped his hands on the small towel. The lady smiled, and he helped her up. She couldn't wait to see the marvels painting he'd made of her; she could already tell he was going to be an amazing artist.
"So, how do you like it?" England turned the canvas around, revealing the word bounding painting he'd just made. Her jaw had dropped and her hands slowly ascended to cover her face. England stared at her, hoping it was good enough for her. She was truly speechless at the artwork; she thought it was more than incredible. She rushed up to him, hugging him close.
"I…I love it so much! It's more than I expected…a lot more! It's just…amazing….how'd you even- Never mind." She chuckled, feeling silly for trying to ask an artist a funny question. "I…I'm blown away by such art work…I cannot believe you did this in less then an hour." England's face starting to flush; he could feel the heated blood run through every vain of his body.
"Well…thank you." He stared her straight in the eyes, sincere more than ever. "I really appreciate your enormous compliment, Miss. I mean, I haven't done this before; it's only my first time." He chuckle as he used his hands to gesture his speech. "I know one thing; it's definitely not my last time." They both laughed.
"I hope not. I really want to come back and get a few paintings of my family members." She smiled, and so did he.
"Oh, but of course! That'd be magnificent! I-I'd really like that, miss."
"Oh, where're my manners… My name is Lydia Williams. It's an honor to meet and shake hands with such an artist." They shook hands.
"It's very nice to meet you, Lydia, I'm Arthur; Arthur Kirkland."
"Well, isn't that fancy?" They both laughed at her small joke. "Ok, well…here's your tip." She handed him $50. "I'll go pay up front for the actual price. Uhhh, that reminds me; how much are you selling my painting for?" England was still dumbstruck at the fact that she gave him a $50 tip. He shook his head and snapped back into reality.
"Oh! Uh…I get to make up the price?" He swallowed hard after she'd nodded. "O-oh…well, uh, how much are you willing to buy it for?" She looked shocked, but then started giggling.
"Silly me! I forgot it was your first time on the job; okay, how about $200? It seems about right, according to your art, that is." She smiled again, but even bigger this time. England didn't speak a single word. He was shocked at how much money he could be making. He knew it was a lot, but he never thought it's be that much. She kindly shook her head, looking down. "Well, I'm going to pay up front. Thank you so much for this lovely painting, Arthur. I'll see you again!" She waved as she made her way out the door. England jumped for joy in that very room, stoked to have earned so much for his first time on the job. He couldn't imagine what it's be like to paint others. And he certainly couldn't wait.
He ran all the way to Italy's house to let him know of the wonderful news. Italy and him celebrated once again, and Italy let England stay over that night. They were so happy, so excited; Italy decided to take England out to the bar for a couple of drinks, even though Germany and America had warned him about it before. Italy was just so happy for his friend; he could't help it. He took England with him to the nearest bar to celebrate. England told Italy all about the beautiful, kind hearted lady he painted. He told her all about how she was pregnant, and about how much he got paid. He also tole Italy about how many customers he was going to get in the future, and Italy loved to listen. He was just so happy for his god friend England. England had more than 5 rounds after an hour of being there, and Italy was starting to worry. England wasn't the same anymore; he was drunk.
"Alright Arthur…let's get you home."
"Whhaaaa??? Awwww c-mmoonnnn Fell-! *burp!* Iciano…just-*burp!*a lil' lloonnggeerrr…uuggghhhh…" He let his head fall while Italy carried him over his shoulder. Italy wanted to rush out of there before any trouble could happen. He hurried as carefully as possible, hoping not to drop his wasted friend on the cement. He drove home with England in the back seat, ready to throw up.
"Awwww maaaannn, c'mon Arthur! Please, not in my c-"
"Afhwrhghggghhh!!!" Italy's face went poker, knowing what was going on in the back seat. He sighed.
"N-nevermind." Italy helped him back into the house even though England was puking on the lawn. He pretty much dropped him on the grass in front of the 3 steps. "S-sorry Arthur!"
"N-no, I'm good…ughglllghlluuhhhh!" He puked right then and there. He looked back up at Italy, patting hie chest and trying to explain how much he appreciated that Italy let him puke on his flowers.
"Ugh, really Arthur…really?" He picked him up and carried him inside where England puked in the sink once more. He washed and wiped his mouth and walked out, rubbing his face.
"T-thanks, Feliciano…I was really wasted." Italy felt better now that England was sober again. It was almost 1am, and Italy decided to turn the tv on to the news. "I…I'm just going to sleep here, ok Feli?" England fell on the couch, sloppier than ever. Italy chuckled.
"You know you can sleep in the-" England started snoring really loud, and Italy laughed under his breath. Italy fell asleep a few minutes later, leaving the tv on.They both were pretty much knocked out from such a long night. It was 11am when they both got up. England was up first; he went to use the bathroom, and he woke Italy up after turning the sink on. "A-Arthur? *yawn* Is that you on there?" He rubbed his eyes, opening them wider. England walked out, scratching his head.
"Morning Feliciano."
"Good morning Arthur!" Italy smiled, happy to start another day. He reminded England about his job, and England couldn't wait to paint another person that day. They both sat on the couch, flipping through the guide.
"What's on at this time?" Italy shrugged as England slowly looked. He slowed down and closed out the guide as he heard the news broadcaster announce that someone was dead. It caught both their attention.
"As you can see, she fell from this bridge and drown." Italy and England gasped in unison after the lady announced more information. "Once again, she was a pregnant woman by the name of Lydia Williams." England choked and began rapidly coughing. The name Lydia Williams repeated in his head; his heart almost stopped.
"Arthur, are you okay?" Italy rushed up to him, telling him to inhale and exhale slowly.
"F-Feliciano….that lady…" Tears filled his jade green eyes, and he let them fall.
"I-I know, it's sad…but this happens all the-"
"Feli! She's the lady I painted yesterday…she was the kind hearted, beautiful…that's her." He let all of his tears out, barely breathing; he was choking back on his tears, and he covered his mouth.
"Oh my! I…I had no idea…that-that's her?"
"Y-yes…sadly, it is…!" He started crying harder, covering his face. He really enjoyed Lydia; she was his first customer, and she was very encouraging. England admired her, and he was patiently waiting for her other family members to be painted. But, she was gone. His tears dried on his cheeks as Italy helped calm him down. Italy's eyes were red as well; he managed to hold his tears back. Italy comforted England, making him feel better. By the time it was 3pm, Italy helped England get ready for his second day on the job, hoping England would no longer shed tears. He waved goodbye as England left for his job again; but, he couldn't stop thinking about Lydia. He really wanted to become a good friend of hers and get to know her well. Now that she was gone, it could no longer happen.