Bloody git... Doesn't know a thing... England had returned from an argument with America, temper still fuming as he walked away from the World Conference. America had continuously rubbed the independence he had gained in his face, but today he had gone too far.
The doors slammed behind him, frame shuddering. He sat down on a bench and put his face in his hands, sighing. He had lost his temper. Again. He hated to, but it seemed to happen so often and when it did, he'd read. He always loved to lose himself in the fantasy worlds of wizards and fairies to the point he even started to believe in it himself. The amazing ways the wizards could bend minds and harness such great power. The way the hero's problems always seemed to disappear in the end. But he wasn't in a novel. That hero would would never be him.
A soft creak of the door interrupted his thoughts, but he didn't peel his eyes away from his hands.
"America, you bloody prat, leave me alone." A soft voice responded to him.
"I-I'm sorry. I'm not America, I'm Canada, eh." England sat up straight and saw the blonde, a nervous smile painted on his pale skin.
"Ah Canada. Of course. America would've been much louder!" He gave a chuckle of amusement at the thought of America's inability of stealth. Canada tiled his head to the side and clutched a stuffed polar bear to his stomach.
"England, are you okay? You've been under a lot of stress lately. You take care of your country and mine after all." England gave him a look, Canada gave a slightly more confident smile. It talks. Canada bloody talks... England sighed and sat back on the bench, Canada walking over and timidly sitting a foot away from him.
"It's nothing Canada, just keep doing what you're doing alright?"
"I don't want to. I don't like watching everyone fight, eh! You, me America, even France! We were friends, eh!" Canada was evidently trying to yell, but it came out as mere whispers of phrases. England looked at him blankly. "If we were all like Italy, maybe there wouldn't be any fighting. Maybe if we were like Germany we'd all have better discipline."
"But how much fun would that all be then? And I don't want to be like the other countries. Especially not Germany." He laughed a little. "Bloody flowers give him indigestion." Canada laughed softly and smiled at England.
"Still." Canada spoke as seriously as his soft and quiet voice would allow him. "Don't let America get to you, eh. You still have me."
"Canada... Why don't you ever talk during our conferences? It's like you're not even there." Canada sighed, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose.
"I-I do. But no one listens to a country that wants peace. Do you, eh? Really want peace? Or does what the other countries do really matter that much?" England thought about this for a moment. What kind of question is that? Of course I want bloody peace! He was about to answer but his mind brought him back to all those conferences that countries like Italy and Canada were ignored. I forgot the existence of Canada for crying out loud! The very country that helped me back in 1812...
When England said nothing, Canada sighed and got up.
"I-I just want you to remember all those times where you needed him, America. The Napoleonic War, World War I and II. Just... Remember what you're fighting for okay? I know you want more land, but I hope you start fighting for peace too, eh." Canada walked down the path and left England on the bench outside the building, turning a corner and out of sight, as though he had never existed.
"Hey dude!" The doors swung open and America burst rather dramatically out the front. He walked over to England and slapped him playfully on the back. "You took that way too seriously." He laughed, but it died as England stood up, glaring at the American. "Dude... England you okay bro? You're scaring me." England pulled America into a hug squeezing him till his arms hurt.\
"Thank you." America paused, speechless. "Thank you for everything you bloody git."
"England. What kind of horror movies has Japan been watching with you..." England laughed heartily.
"What the bloody hell am I doing?! You are a bastard! Bloody Canada doesn't know a thing!" And thus another argument broke out.
Canada sighed in his position on the pavement. He really never left, but he supposed he was only seen when someone was actually listening. He shrugged and walked down the path, a chilly wind being all left in his wake.