America turned around and blinked as France waved his hand at him in a dignified way, coming closer and smiling. It would have looked better if France hadn't been mostly naked, though…
"Good morning, Francis… out molesting poor unsuspecting Nations again?"
France let out a shrill laugh, pressing his hands on his hips. America would have felt afraid if France had tried something with him, but he was thankfully spared for some motive he didn't really want to know –you don't look at the gifted horse in the mouth.
"What are you doing here, Alfred?"
"Uh, I finished all my work and I'm bringing the last documents to my boss," he stated, showing France the huge stack of papers he was holding under his arm.
It wasn't even weekend and he had finished already –despite Gilbird's messing with his alarm clocks, his popping around, America's trips to Prussia and such– and it had taken him way less time than he had anticipated.
"It is a good day to be out, so enjoy it as much as you can, mon ami," France suggested, smiling languidly and checking America up and down.
"Piyo~"
France's eyes travelled upwards and to America's hair, noticing the small bird perched there, and smiled fondly.
"Bonjour to you too, Gilbird," he stated, pointing a hand at the bird, who flapped its wings and circled the French Nation twice before landing on his awaiting index. "I see you are keeping America company today, too…"
"Aren't you surprised to see him?" America blinked, observing as the older Nation patted the bird's head affectionately. He hadn't told anyone about the bird's constant presence in his life for the last three weeks.
"Why should I be?" France peered up at him, one finger rubbing at Gilbird's throat. "Dear Gilbert has been sending him over every day since a couple of months ago so that you would cheer up a bit…" a look of surprise appeared on the Frenchman's face, and he stopped petting the bird. "Wait, he didn't tell you? I had thought you would know…"
America blinked in surprise, then looked down at Gilbird, who was pecking France's fingers viciously, looking almost angered that the French Nation had spilled the beans to him.
"Uh… no, I didn't know".
He felt both ashamed and unsettled at not having realised this before. Of course Prussia had taken it so coolly… he'd been the one sending Gilbird over every day!
Why did he do it?
Why would Prussia care if he was overworked or sad? They hadn't been exactly friends before, or even acquaintances, they had talked to each other a total of two, three times in the course of a decade, or something…
Yes, he'd been swarmed by work and he'd been overdoing it, and after Gilbird had started popping around, America had actually been able to breathe and rest more, and despite losing time around he'd even managed to work more efficiently than before, so he had to thank Prussia for that, in a way, yet…
Why?
He'd enjoyed Prussia's company, and he'd not–so–secretly enjoyed Gilbird's as well. Prussia had treated him friendly, joking with him, teasing him, making him relax, and Gilbird had actually helped America relax from morning onwards, and later on, also popping around during the day, making Prussia come over…
Now that America knew, things would probably end. He should call off Prussia's doing and demand to know why he had done that, and Prussia would surely stop, and…
He didn't want it to stop.
He wasn't angry at all, actually. Shocked, yes, and embarrassed, but… not angry.
A part of him wanted Gilbird to still pop around in the mornings, waking him up, flapping his wings and twirling in the air to make him smile.
And he wanted to talk with Prussia, hang out with him, have the albino keep on poking fun at him, too…
"Why?" he asked out loud.
France stared at him with his head tilted to the side, then shook his head with a deep sigh. "Mon cher Alfred, isn't that something you should ask dear Gilbert himself?" he was smiling at him in a non–perverted way, and America fidgeted.
France was right. He'd better give the documents to his boss and go straight to Prussia to demand an explanation. Maybe things wouldn't go that bad, if he just assured the albino that he wasn't angry…
Feathered Friends Part 1j/1
America turned around and blinked as France waved his hand at him in a dignified way, coming closer and smiling. It would have looked better if France hadn't been mostly naked, though…
"Good morning, Francis… out molesting poor unsuspecting Nations again?"
France let out a shrill laugh, pressing his hands on his hips. America would have felt afraid if France had tried something with him, but he was thankfully spared for some motive he didn't really want to know –you don't look at the gifted horse in the mouth.
"What are you doing here, Alfred?"
"Uh, I finished all my work and I'm bringing the last documents to my boss," he stated, showing France the huge stack of papers he was holding under his arm.
It wasn't even weekend and he had finished already –despite Gilbird's messing with his alarm clocks, his popping around, America's trips to Prussia and such– and it had taken him way less time than he had anticipated.
"It is a good day to be out, so enjoy it as much as you can, mon ami," France suggested, smiling languidly and checking America up and down.
"Piyo~"
France's eyes travelled upwards and to America's hair, noticing the small bird perched there, and smiled fondly.
"Bonjour to you too, Gilbird," he stated, pointing a hand at the bird, who flapped its wings and circled the French Nation twice before landing on his awaiting index. "I see you are keeping America company today, too…"
"Aren't you surprised to see him?" America blinked, observing as the older Nation patted the bird's head affectionately. He hadn't told anyone about the bird's constant presence in his life for the last three weeks.
"Why should I be?" France peered up at him, one finger rubbing at Gilbird's throat. "Dear Gilbert has been sending him over every day since a couple of months ago so that you would cheer up a bit…" a look of surprise appeared on the Frenchman's face, and he stopped petting the bird. "Wait, he didn't tell you? I had thought you would know…"
America blinked in surprise, then looked down at Gilbird, who was pecking France's fingers viciously, looking almost angered that the French Nation had spilled the beans to him.
"Uh… no, I didn't know".
He felt both ashamed and unsettled at not having realised this before. Of course Prussia had taken it so coolly… he'd been the one sending Gilbird over every day!
Why did he do it?
Why would Prussia care if he was overworked or sad? They hadn't been exactly friends before, or even acquaintances, they had talked to each other a total of two, three times in the course of a decade, or something…
Yes, he'd been swarmed by work and he'd been overdoing it, and after Gilbird had started popping around, America had actually been able to breathe and rest more, and despite losing time around he'd even managed to work more efficiently than before, so he had to thank Prussia for that, in a way, yet…
Why?
He'd enjoyed Prussia's company, and he'd not–so–secretly enjoyed Gilbird's as well. Prussia had treated him friendly, joking with him, teasing him, making him relax, and Gilbird had actually helped America relax from morning onwards, and later on, also popping around during the day, making Prussia come over…
Now that America knew, things would probably end. He should call off Prussia's doing and demand to know why he had done that, and Prussia would surely stop, and…
He didn't want it to stop.
He wasn't angry at all, actually. Shocked, yes, and embarrassed, but… not angry.
A part of him wanted Gilbird to still pop around in the mornings, waking him up, flapping his wings and twirling in the air to make him smile.
And he wanted to talk with Prussia, hang out with him, have the albino keep on poking fun at him, too…
"Why?" he asked out loud.
France stared at him with his head tilted to the side, then shook his head with a deep sigh. "Mon cher Alfred, isn't that something you should ask dear Gilbert himself?" he was smiling at him in a non–perverted way, and America fidgeted.
France was right. He'd better give the documents to his boss and go straight to Prussia to demand an explanation. Maybe things wouldn't go that bad, if he just assured the albino that he wasn't angry…