England looked like he belonged in a loony bin.
You sat in your chair, not quite sure what to do. You had been reading and drinking tea with England in his library when some of his..."friends" decide to visit. And there he goes, off laughing and playing and talking to the air.
"Ah!" He cries, finally turning to you. "______, this is Flying Mint Bunny!" He gestured with his hand at a spot to his left. You try and focus on where he means, but you honestly can't see the creature.
"Um, England...I'm sorry, but I don't see anything."
His face falls and he looks heartbroken. "But...______, I thought you were different," He mumbles, cradling something in his arms.You look away and bite your lip.
"Wait," he looks at you with big eyes, "Do you think I'm making them up? Do you think I'm...crazy?"
You almost dropped your teacup. "No! No, of course not! It's just that...well, I, ah, I don't think they're for real." Your voice shrank with every word.
England narrowed his eyes. "______, you've read Peter Pan, correct?"
"So you know that whenever you say you don't believe in fairies, a fairy dies?"
This time you did drop your cup. It landed on the table with a crash. You turn in your seat and cover your mouth.
"So you're not adamant," England says, leaning back in his chair. "Don't worry, you didn't specify what you didn't believe in, so you're fine."
"Oh...alright. Good." The Brit stood up.
"I have some books I want you to see." He walked over and plucked out one, two, three, four books from a shelf and puts them in front of you. You pick one up and flip to the front page.
It is all about fairies, with painstakingly drawn diagrams of anatomy and habitats. "Huh...they have dragonfly wings? I didn't know that," You mused. You figured if they were real, they would have butterfly wings like the stereotypical design.
Most were about three inches in height and deathly afraid of adult humans. They didn't usually mind children, but now due to decreasing numbers of children who believe they are real, fairies rarely introduce themselves to kids.
Their appearances were centered around nature. For example, one could have hair that rippled like water and another could have rough skin like tree bark.
The writer of this book was so certain, so sure these beings existed. They acted as if they were as common as a fly, and just as easy to spot. Had you been this blind your whole life? As a country, that was centuries of ignoring a whole slew of creatures.
You found yourself crying. You tried to stop, but the tears kept going.
"______, what's wrong? Oh, love, please don't cry, it's-" He was cut off when you buried your face in his shoulder and continued to sob. His arms went around you awkwardly and he rested his chin in your hair. "It's alright, love, it's okay," He chanted, slowly calming you down.
"I just don't know what to believe," you choked out. England smiled gently.
"You can believe in anything you want to believe, love. Don't be afraid."
And then you saw them.