ThePepsiNinja: Aaannd this is just all kinds of sappy. Oh, if anyone wants to know, this is a kind of sequel to JEALOUS. I like writing for America but I feel I screwed this up a little bit. Ah well. C'est la vie. Sorry if it's a little too...what's the word, fluffy? I've never been good a fluff. T_T

America: It's not that bad. Cheer up.

ThePepsiNinja: I will do nothing, except for this. THe disclaimer thingie. Alright, blah blah blah, I don't own anything except my computer, and my incredible typing fingers. Hetalia is owned by Hidekaz Himaruya and TokyoPop and whatnot.

Prompt two: Friends to Lovers

Pairing: America

You heard footsteps in the wet pavement in front of you before they stopped, right in front of you. You looked up slightly to see familiar tan pants. The person was crouching and you knew who this person was.

"[Name]? What are you doing out here? What's wrong?" His usual bubbly persona was replaced with one much more concerned. You looked up at the dirty blond nation. His eyes were filled with worry directed solely at you.

You couldn't help it and jumped into him, almost knocking him over in the process and cried into his chest, much louder than you were before. America frowned in worry and patted you on your shoulder blade lightly. Sighing, he picked you up and started walking.

"I'll take you to your house." You nodded numbly and sniffed. The crying was finally starting to subside but the rain was still pouring, making America pick up his pace. "It's this one right here on the corner right? The [color] one?" He asked, looking down at you briefly. You could only nod.

America opened your door after you gave him your keys and he set you down gently.

"Can I use your dryer? My clothes got soaked." He attempted to smile, in hopes maybe you'd feel better. You looked up at him with an empty gaze and nodded, grabbing your knees and pulling them up to your chest. "You should get changed. You'll get sick." Psh. What did it matter if you got sick? Would that make anything much worse? Probably not. You ignored the advice and sat there with this depressing aura surrounding you.

"My brother has clothes in his room you can borrow. It's the room right next to mine upstairs." Your voice held little to no emotion at the moment and it made America worry. He went upstairs to find two bedrooms, one with a sign that was obviously made by you, and another that was completely bare. Inside the door with nothing on it, he did find some clothes that fit him and went to go find your dryer, discarding his soaked clothes into it and putting on your brothers' before heading to where you were, still sitting in the living room in your soaked clothes, with your arms curled around your legs, tear stains now noticeable on your red cheeks.

"[Name]. Come on, I don't want you to get sick." He rushed over to you, who made little to no effort to acknowledge him. Something must have hurt you. Bad. He just didn't know what it was. But by God, he was going to find out and give whatever or whoever it was a piece of his mind. And by mind, he meant fist. He picked you up again and carried you to your room and set you down in front of your bed, not wanting to get your sheets wet. He went to your dresser and started rummaging, blushing slightly when he came to your bras and such. He tossed a sweater and a pair of sweat pants to you. You glanced at them and then him, pleadingly.

"No, forget it. I'm not going to leave you here so you can sulk, dude. Get dressed. I'll be downstairs, making you something to eat. Please get dressed?" He pleaded you before leaving your room.

What was the point? Getting dressed wasn't going to fix you. And hell, if you got pneumonia it'd make the pain go away wouldn't it? But you knew he'd be persistent to the point of driving you nuts, so you simply complied and got changed, tossing your wet clothes in the nearby hamper and slipping on the dry clothes. You admittedly did feel much better afterwards. Your body was still shaking from the crying you did and you felt exhausted. Did you really want to eat? Not really, but it'd make America feel better. You sighed in resignation and went downstairs to the kitchen, seeing America work diligently for your behalf. It almost made you smile.

He heard your footsteps and looked in your direction, smiling.

"Hey. I didn't expect you to come down here. I remember you saying you really liked fried chicken once, so I'm making that. I hope you don't mind." You nodded, walking slowly over to him. He looked back, seeing it'd take a while before he'd actually be able to start making it and everything, so he directed you back to your living room to sit on the side of the sofa that was still dry. "What's wrong? I don't think I've ever seen you so down." You took a deep breath and exhaled, looking at him pleadingly.

"I don't think you want to know. It's not important." You dismissed it.

"That's bull and you know it. If it's not important, then why are you acting like this?"

You were surprised. You'd never seen him all that serious before.

"I might start crying again."

"I don't care. Tell me."

You scooted closer to him and rested your head on his shoulder. He was such a good friend. Arthur introduced you a long time ago and you became friends rather quickly. You contradicted his bubbly, energetic, blunt nature with your calmer, sweeter one, but still managed to stay good friends for years.

"Okay, so…you know England right?"

"British dude? Yeah I do. Obviously. Why?"

"Well…a long time ago, I started having feelings for him. And…I found out not long after that that he really liked the island girl, Seychelles. And for…" You choked up. "…for months…I've had to listen to him talk about her and pretend to be happy with it. I was going to tell him today, hoping it'd help me somehow, but…she had to call him and ask him out basically. You should have seen the way his face lit up. It's like when someone tells him they actually like his cooking, only more." America couldn't help but laugh at that. Even when you were sad, you seemed to have a good sense of humor. You let him laugh, understanding that it couldn't be helped, what with who he was and all…

"So I walked home and when it started raining, I couldn't help it. It's like something snapped and I just let everything out right there. And that's where you found me." You explained. He felt bad for you, he really did. America couldn't' stand seeing one of his closest friends so depressed.

"Do you want me to talk to him? See if I can set things straight?" You didn't know if that meant actually talking to him, or beating the holy hell out of him, so you declined.

"No. I doubt it'd help. He likes Seychelles too much for me to even be considered, so…forget it." You said. America frowned.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means my competition is Seychelles. You do the math."

"Hey, [Name], dude, you really need to stop that. It sucks to listen to this. You're just as good as her, if not better."

"Oh yeah, I'm fantastic alright. Which is why men are always fawning over me." America looked away from you.

"Well…you don't know. Someone could like you and you just don't know it."

He looked down at you. Your face looked so sad, [Eye color] eyes still brimming with tears, bloodshot from the crying. Your [Hair color] hair was wet from the rain and slightly mussed. Your makeup was completely wiped clean from your face from the excess moisture and your face was slightly red.

And you were beautiful, despite it all.

I mean, sure he'd never admit that he was thinking that, because it was really sappy and The Hero wasn't supposed to be sappy. But you were, whether you knew it or not.

"Like who?" You looked up at him, confused.

"Well…that's…I should go start the food now." He panicked and stood up, going back to the kitchen and started making the chicken. Why the hell did he panic like that? The Hero wasn't supposed to panic either. I mean, what if Superman had panicked? He wouldn't be the most famous superhero on Earth, that's for damn certain. But he did, and now he was giving himself a mental ass-kicking for it.

You looked at him from where you were sitting in the living room. That was odd. Why did he act that way? He never acted that way. You expected something like that from Japan or Switzerland, but not America. What he said was playing in your head for a while after he left, right up until the moment he announced the food was ready.

Well…you don't know. Someone could like you and you just don't know it.

What did he mean by that? It couldn't mean that he…no…not America. Really? Did he? You went into the kitchen, got your food, in a small portion, and went back to the living room so he and you could watch TV while eating.

You both sat in silence for a little while before you looked up at him, staring intently at the screen. His hair was slightly damp. Damn short haired people for their hair drying so much faster. He had his glasses off for once, making it easier to see his whole face. He looked down at you and smiled. He was gorgeous, sure, but you'd never really looked at him before.

"Alfred, what did you mean earlier? You never answered my question." His face picked up a little pink before he looked away from you, setting his plate down and facing you again.

"What would you do if I told you I had feelings for you?"

Wow.

You weren't expecting that. At all. But now that you thought about it, it made sense. He was always there for you. Always. Today he'd braved the rain, brought you to your house and made sure you were okay and taken care of.

"I'd say, wow. I really wasn't expecting this. Why?"

"Because I do. I want to kill Arthur for doing this to you. I want to see you happy."

"I-I don't know what to say."

"You understand how I couldn't help it, right? We've been friends for a while now. It was bound to happen to one of us sooner or later, I guess."

There was a silence in the air before you responded.

"So…you like me."

"Yep."

You thought about this for a little while before smiling ruefully. You never thought it'd come to this. You'd always liked America as your best friend but you never saw him in any other light besides your obnoxious, but protective best friend. But…you looked at him now and saw that really sweet kind of puppy dog look on his face and thought…maybe you should give him a chance? He definitely deserved it, but…would you be able to do it? Would you be able to see him as more than a friend to you?

"I don't know if it'd work, Alfred."

"I don't care. Just give me a chance. I promise I'll never hurt you or make you cry like Arthur did. Please?" That hurt you. Seeing him look at you like that. Well, there was only one way to be sure if this would work, so not saying a word, you cupped his face in your hands and pressed your lips to his. What happened completely surprised you. You immediately felt better and your heart began pounding. He responded almost immediately, moving his lips against yours. When you pulled away, he pressed his lips to yours again. It was quite cute, like a stubborn child that's just getting what they want and not wanting to relinquish it.

When you finally did get a chance to look at him again, he was looking at you expectantly.

"Well?" He asked, watching your face for any kind of reaction.

"I-uh-I definitely felt something." You said after you were sure you could talk. You almost smiled seeing his face light up a little. You laughed softly, looking him in the eye. "Okay. I'll give this a shot." You smiled, seeing his face light up even more.

"Thank you [Name]. I won't let you down." You shook your head, smirking.

"You sure?" You asked teasingly. He smiled, standing up and striking a heroic pose.

"Of course! I'd never do that, because I'm The Hero!"

Cue sweat drop.

"You're a goof. But you're my goof." You laughed at him.

"You bet! You want to go somewhere? Anywhere you want, name it."

You thought about it for a little while. Looking outside you saw that the rain was still pouring relentlessly, making you sigh. Looking back at him you smiled softly. You still didn't know about this, but he was nice to you, and it'd be worth it if it meant you were making your best friend happy in the process. And hell, you knew that you'd develop feelings for him too. Not immediately, of course, but you definitely would. You knew how your heart worked very well.

"Naw. Let's just stay here. It's still pouring outside anyways." You dismissed it, leaning your head on his shoulder when he sat by you again. He smiled down at you and put his arm around your shoulder.

"Hey, [Name], thanks for giving me a chance…and…not making fun of me for being all serious and stuff." You shook your head, smiling and rolling your eyes.

"I wouldn't make fun of that. It means a lot to me. Really. Thank you."

You pecked him on the cheek and went back to relaxing, suddenly feeling your eyelids get heavy. Today had exhausted you, and you barely did anything! But, at least something good came out of everything bad that happened. You'd get over Arthur eventually. Right now you wanted to focus on your hero, the one that rescued you and made you feel better.

ThePepsiNinja: Um...Ta-da!