Protector EnglandxReader

You huddled in the corner of your room, pleading in your mind for the voices to be quiet, for the shouting and yelling outside to stop. You were terrified. You had only recently moved into a house on your own, and now you knew why the rent was so cheap; drunken uproars was of the norm to happen every night, and you hated it. You already had many drunken idiots arrive on your doorstep, banging on your door and windows, most of the time shouting abuse at you, and this was another one of those times.

"Come on, you slut! Open the door already!" You trembled from each bang that echoed through the small house. You had tried to stand up for yourself the first night this had happened, only to have an empty bottle swung against your head, causing you to need multiple stitches. If it wasn't for the blonde gentleman, who you believed to be also drunk at the time, punching the offender in the face, knocking him out and him somehow taking you down to the hospital, you wouldn't know where you would be or what would had happened. You hadn't seen the man since, and since have not gone out the house after sundown, too fearful of what could happen.

Suddenly there was silence, which for some reason was more terrifying than the shouting for you. After a couple minutes of thick, uncomfortable silence, you hear a polite knocking at the door, making you stand in surprise.

"Wh-who...?" You stuttered to yourself, before walking over to the front door. You willed yourself to look through the peep-hole of the door, then stood on the tips of your toes to do so.

You gasped in shock; the gentleman from a few nights ago was now standing in front of your door, holding something in his hands, looking well-kempt and sober. You attempted to calm your shakes as you opened the door, letting the screen door stand in the way between you and him. You examined his face, noticing his grassy green eyes and his rather thick eyebrows, which somehow suited him.

"Yes? What is i-it?" You asked, accidently stuttering at the end.

"Ah, thank goodness! I hoped none of those bloody wankers had managed to get inside," He sighed in relief, "Anyway, I thought I would drop in, make sure you are doing alright..."

He glanced to the side of himself, a grimace showing on his face, which caused you to look out of curiousity. A man, looking disevelled and smelling strongly of liquor, was lying on the ground, unconcious, but otherwise appeared fine. You looked back up at the man, whom was rubbing the back of his hair while muttering under his breath something about 'the wanker deserving more than that'.

"You saved me again..." He looked at you from your statement, "...What are you, my personal bodyguard?"

He couldn't help the chuckle that escaped his lips.

"Just call me Arthur, love... Now could I come inside; it's bloody freezing and this food isn't going to stay warm for long."

And that is how yours and Arthur's friendship began...