Suddenly the front door of the building went open and many nations came swarming out of it. “Quiet now”, Wy told the others. “Everyone remembers their job? We’re starting!” Then she began skimming the crowd with her eyes, most likely looking for America.
“There he is”, she whispered to Molossia and began nudging him in the direction of the boisterous country, who was at the moment blabbering to England animatedly.
The sun glasses-wearing young man stumbled forward awkwardly and looked like a lost puppy, wishing that he could disappear into thin air right now. He was really starting to regret having told his friends about his crush, because it was obviously their fault that he was in this situation right now. What if America said no? Or worse, what if he laughed at him for asking? Did he even like him? Or did he only think of him as an annoying stretch of land within his borders that tried to do everything in its own way? It would more likely be the second, wouldn’t it? All of the countries thought about the micronations like this after all. Why should America be different?
Well… he was a hell lot different compared to other countries in Molossia’s opinion. Something about this guy just made him go incredibly soft, he didn’t even know why. All he knew was that he was madly in love with America, and he was aware that that sounded very cheesy, but Molossia simply couldn’t help it.
His vision had gone blurry by now, and the next thing he knew was that he found America standing directly in front of him, even talking to him.
“-haven’t seen you in a while, dude. What’s up?”
Molossia tried to focus on the beautiful sky blue eyes that were now looking at him, waiting for him to answer the question.
“I… uh… i-it’s”, he stuttered, now blushing furiously. “It… er… it’s really hot today!”, the micronation blurted out.
Wy, who was watching the conversation from within a certain distance with the others, felt the urge to facepalm. Seriously, what an idiot!
America looked at Molossia puzzled for a moment, the he grinned. “Dude, that’s so true! I ain’t even able to wear my awesome hero’s bomber jacket in this heat.”
It was only when he said this that the micronation realized that America really wasn’t wearing his trademark jacket today. He was wearing a white T-Shirt -which had a rocket printed on it- consisting of a very thin layer of fabric. Molossia couldn’t help but think that it matched America’s shape greatly, and that you could almost feel the muscles behind the cotton just by watching it. Darn, that guy was hot.
The blonde country of course hadn’t noticed at all that Molossia had been checking him out. It was these times that proved being able to read the atmosphere is a rather useful trait though. However, even though America was horribly oblivious to those kinds of things, England, who had been standing a bit behind him, clearly wasn’t.
“You are a moron”, he told the younger country in his usual ‘grumpy-old-man’-voice, as America liked to call it. “’Ain’t’ isn’t even a word. Don’t go around messing with my language stupidly!”
“Whoa, dude, seriously”, the glasses-wearing man answered, laughing. “If you call this ‘messing with your language’ then I’ve been doing it for the last two-hundred years.”
England now stepped beside him, not without throwing a nasty glare at Molossia, one that clearly told: ‘I’ve seen how you’ve been watching him.’ “You bloody dolt!”, he barked at America, though his eyes told that he didn’t really mean the insult. He just liked to mess with his former colony, as he thought that this was the only way for him to keep in contact with the boy. “Are you just acting like it or are you really this stupid? And besides, technically you’ve been messing with my language your entire existence!”
America snickered. “You thought it was cute back then, though, didn’t you? It’s you who always comes to me, trying to make me call you ‘Engwand’ again.”
The island country blushed and shook his head fiercely. “D-don’t talk about such things, you idiot! You may have been cute back then, but now all you are is fat.”
Re: Untitled, Chapter 2b/?
“There he is”, she whispered to Molossia and began nudging him in the direction of the boisterous country, who was at the moment blabbering to England animatedly.
The sun glasses-wearing young man stumbled forward awkwardly and looked like a lost puppy, wishing that he could disappear into thin air right now. He was really starting to regret having told his friends about his crush, because it was obviously their fault that he was in this situation right now. What if America said no? Or worse, what if he laughed at him for asking? Did he even like him? Or did he only think of him as an annoying stretch of land within his borders that tried to do everything in its own way? It would more likely be the second, wouldn’t it? All of the countries thought about the micronations like this after all. Why should America be different?
Well… he was a hell lot different compared to other countries in Molossia’s opinion. Something about this guy just made him go incredibly soft, he didn’t even know why. All he knew was that he was madly in love with America, and he was aware that that sounded very cheesy, but Molossia simply couldn’t help it.
His vision had gone blurry by now, and the next thing he knew was that he found America standing directly in front of him, even talking to him.
“-haven’t seen you in a while, dude. What’s up?”
Molossia tried to focus on the beautiful sky blue eyes that were now looking at him, waiting for him to answer the question.
“I… uh… i-it’s”, he stuttered, now blushing furiously. “It… er… it’s really hot today!”, the micronation blurted out.
Wy, who was watching the conversation from within a certain distance with the others, felt the urge to facepalm. Seriously, what an idiot!
America looked at Molossia puzzled for a moment, the he grinned. “Dude, that’s so true! I ain’t even able to wear my awesome hero’s bomber jacket in this heat.”
It was only when he said this that the micronation realized that America really wasn’t wearing his trademark jacket today. He was wearing a white T-Shirt -which had a rocket printed on it- consisting of a very thin layer of fabric. Molossia couldn’t help but think that it matched America’s shape greatly, and that you could almost feel the muscles behind the cotton just by watching it. Darn, that guy was hot.
The blonde country of course hadn’t noticed at all that Molossia had been checking him out. It was these times that proved being able to read the atmosphere is a rather useful trait though. However, even though America was horribly oblivious to those kinds of things, England, who had been standing a bit behind him, clearly wasn’t.
“You are a moron”, he told the younger country in his usual ‘grumpy-old-man’-voice, as America liked to call it. “’Ain’t’ isn’t even a word. Don’t go around messing with my language stupidly!”
“Whoa, dude, seriously”, the glasses-wearing man answered, laughing. “If you call this ‘messing with your language’ then I’ve been doing it for the last two-hundred years.”
England now stepped beside him, not without throwing a nasty glare at Molossia, one that clearly told: ‘I’ve seen how you’ve been watching him.’ “You bloody dolt!”, he barked at America, though his eyes told that he didn’t really mean the insult. He just liked to mess with his former colony, as he thought that this was the only way for him to keep in contact with the boy. “Are you just acting like it or are you really this stupid? And besides, technically you’ve been messing with my language your entire existence!”
America snickered. “You thought it was cute back then, though, didn’t you? It’s you who always comes to me, trying to make me call you ‘Engwand’ again.”
The island country blushed and shook his head fiercely. “D-don’t talk about such things, you idiot! You may have been cute back then, but now all you are is fat.”