“Where do you live now?” Canada asked then, noticing France hiding his key in one of his internal pockets. France shot him a look, but didn’t comment, to which Canada rolled his eyes: “You should be more careful, you know?”
France decided to ignore that statement too. They were ready to leave, when suddenly another familiar figure came suddenly into view. France didn’t notice him until it was too late, and it was Canada that gave the alarm:
“E-Engl—!”
France raised an eyebrow, but understood what Canada wanted to tell him only when he suddenly heard someone shout at him:
“What the hell are you doing here?”
France turned around and came face to face with England. That day couldn’t get any worse! He cursed himself, shot a conspiratorial look at Canada, who just sighed and mumbled something that seemed like ‘Maple’ or something, and then turned to look at England. England stopped before them, his hands on his hips, and raised an eyebrow at France, who decided to be a good American and grin.
“I overheard France wasn’t okay, so I decided to check out!” he said. He was so good at lying now, he should be proud of himself. (But he wasn’t, he just felt worse). “Why are you here?” he asked then, emphasizing his ‘you’ with a raise of the eyebrows. England seemed taken aback by the sudden question. Suddenly on edge, England turned away, blushed, for a moment he even looked angry, and suddenly marched over to France’s front door, determined.
“Have you seen him?” England asked instead, ready to ring France’s doorbell. France suddenly grabbed the island’s hand and pulled him a little closer and away from the door. “What the bloody…!”
“He is really sick!” France said, for a moment he sounded exactly as America did when he told a lie. He hoped England wouldn’t notice.
(But, hell, England had raised America, and the guy had a crush on him. Wouldn’t he notice? How stupid of France to hope.)
“And he doesn’t want to see anyone right now!” France added then. England abruptly turned to look at him, his eyes wide open.
“But he let you in! You said you saw him!”
“Yeah… ehm…” France tried to find an excuse, but England had already found one way before France did. England suddenly looked really angry.
“So, the correct phrase would be: he doesn’t want to see ME!” England exclaimed and, suddenly, gave a hard kick on France’s front door. “You WANKER!” England suddenly shouted, loud enough for everyone to hear, “I hope you die a painful death, git! And to think I was… I was! Argh! I won’t bother, ever again!” England gave another hard kick. France’s breath hitched and Canada shot a worried look at them both.
“England, maybe he has a good reason…” Canada tried to say. England suddenly turned around to him, finally noticing Canada’s presence.
“You saw him too?” England exclaimed instead, cutting Canada off. “You slimy, you… you!!” England suddenly turned around to the door again. “Why do I keep caring!” he suddenly shot his arms to the air and abruptly made his way back to the main road. France sighed. Canada just looked really guilty.
Love me the "American" way [7d/?]
France decided to ignore that statement too. They were ready to leave, when suddenly another familiar figure came suddenly into view. France didn’t notice him until it was too late, and it was Canada that gave the alarm:
“E-Engl—!”
France raised an eyebrow, but understood what Canada wanted to tell him only when he suddenly heard someone shout at him:
“What the hell are you doing here?”
France turned around and came face to face with England. That day couldn’t get any worse! He cursed himself, shot a conspiratorial look at Canada, who just sighed and mumbled something that seemed like ‘Maple’ or something, and then turned to look at England. England stopped before them, his hands on his hips, and raised an eyebrow at France, who decided to be a good American and grin.
“I overheard France wasn’t okay, so I decided to check out!” he said. He was so good at lying now, he should be proud of himself. (But he wasn’t, he just felt worse). “Why are you here?” he asked then, emphasizing his ‘you’ with a raise of the eyebrows. England seemed taken aback by the sudden question. Suddenly on edge, England turned away, blushed, for a moment he even looked angry, and suddenly marched over to France’s front door, determined.
“Have you seen him?” England asked instead, ready to ring France’s doorbell. France suddenly grabbed the island’s hand and pulled him a little closer and away from the door. “What the bloody…!”
“He is really sick!” France said, for a moment he sounded exactly as America did when he told a lie. He hoped England wouldn’t notice.
(But, hell, England had raised America, and the guy had a crush on him. Wouldn’t he notice? How stupid of France to hope.)
“And he doesn’t want to see anyone right now!” France added then. England abruptly turned to look at him, his eyes wide open.
“But he let you in! You said you saw him!”
“Yeah… ehm…” France tried to find an excuse, but England had already found one way before France did. England suddenly looked really angry.
“So, the correct phrase would be: he doesn’t want to see ME!” England exclaimed and, suddenly, gave a hard kick on France’s front door. “You WANKER!” England suddenly shouted, loud enough for everyone to hear, “I hope you die a painful death, git! And to think I was… I was! Argh! I won’t bother, ever again!” England gave another hard kick. France’s breath hitched and Canada shot a worried look at them both.
“England, maybe he has a good reason…” Canada tried to say. England suddenly turned around to him, finally noticing Canada’s presence.
“You saw him too?” England exclaimed instead, cutting Canada off. “You slimy, you… you!!” England suddenly turned around to the door again. “Why do I keep caring!” he suddenly shot his arms to the air and abruptly made his way back to the main road. France sighed. Canada just looked really guilty.