England x Reader: To Find Something Once Lost
You thought it was a dream at first.
A man was sitting on your chair in the morning, drinking a cup of tea from your expensive china, staring off into space. However, he did look over at you when you stepped towards the drawer that held the knives, his green eyes stopping you suddenly. He stood, his messy blond hair sticking on the ends and slightly bobbing as he moved, and his pale, pink lips turned into a hopeful…smile (or something like that). He took a step towards you, but you were frozen in place, your heart beating wildly inside your chest.
“I’ve finally found you,” he blurted, and your eyebrows furrowed at his English accent. Well, it sounded English. You didn’t know from where in England—or if it wasn’t New Zealand or something—but the point was that you seldom heard that accent in your suburban neighborhood. And you had never met this man anyway. Why was he looking for you, and why was he in your house? “My name is Arthur