A/N: Hey guys, new story! I'm really excited about this one, it's one of my favourites. This was also RPed out with my brilliant RP partner. It will be posted in three long parts. Hope you enjoy!
Hetalia (c) Hidekaz Himaruya
Arthur woke up to a massive hangover. That in itself wasn't really either surprising or troubling. However, the cool air on his bare skin had the potential of being problematic. Although he was tangled up in his sheets, something felt off. Even in his hazy mind he could find no recollection of taking his clothes off, and there was no one else in his bed.
Moaning, he turned onto his side, his hands brushing against some of the fabric covering him. It was...smooth and silky, much softer than his sheets ever were, and most likely ever would be. He stiffened.
No.
It couldn't be.
He hadn't drunk that much, had he? And yet, it was. He was wearing a toga.
Cursing, he sprang up and ran to the nearest mirror to verify his explanation. And sure enough, as he rose he felt a weight on his back. Tilting his head to the side, he caught glimpse of feathers. Then he was in front of his bathroom mirror, where he groaned.
Problematic indeed. The toga settled gracefully around his body as he stood there, panting. With every breath, the wings growing from his back rose slightly before falling, and the halo floating above his head pulsated with light.
The fact that he was an angel wasn't all that disquieting- he had been Britannia Angel before. No, it was the little detail that his body- the wings, the toga, and the halo- hadn't reverted back that was the issue. He didn't know the reason why he had stuck like this, so therefore he didn't know if and when he'd turn back. And God, if anyone ever found him like this...
His hangover suddenly felt much worse. And of course right then, someone knocked on his door.
"Yo, Artie, are ya home? Franny said you were probably drunk, and I came to see if ya didn't kill anyone on accident~!" Alfred's voice called cheerfully through the door, accompanied by more knocks.
Arthur groaned again. "One moment!" he called back, and winced as his voice echoed through his head.
He quickly cast around for something to put on over the toga and finally had to settle on a bathrobe. Folding the wings tightly against his back, he put it on and secured it tightly. With no better ideas for now, he threw a hat on his head to hide the halo.
Finally, he went down and cracked the door open. "What do you want, Alfred?"
"Yo, Art- ...Are ya wearing a fedora? With your bathrobe? " Alfred grinned, pushing the door open more.
Arthur backed away from him. "Yes, I am. Is that a problem?"
Alfred snickered, stepping in. "Whatevs. Well, I came to see what's up. You alright and everything?" He closed the door behind him.
"Yes, I'm fine. You're not needed here, so go home."
Of course right then, the hat floated off his head, the halo slipping out from under it and returning to its place above his hair. Arthur snatched it and held it tightly against his side, which was kind of hard to do since the halo kept wanting to go back to being above his head.
Alfred blinked, staring at him. "...What...What the hell was that?!"
"That was nothing, Alfred. Don't worry about it." Arthur said, and then grunted softly as the halo pulsed brighter and tugged harder at his arm.
The American blinked again, stepping closer. "Is that...?"
"It's nothing!" Arthur snapped, jerking his hand back to hide it behind his back, simultaneously taking another small step away.
"...Artie, you're really bad at lying." He reached out to take the shining object when it suddenly got out of Arthur's grip and flew up to hover above his head. Alfred jumped back in surprise. "Holy- is that a halo?!"
Cursing, Arthur ripped the halo off his head and stuck it deep into his robe pocket. "No, it's not." he said shortly. "It's just some...rogue magic."
"It looks a lot like a halo! Rogue magic?"
"I-It's not a halo!" Arthur turned and stalked away, hoping to end the conversation. He didn't notice when two feathers floated down from beneath his robe and fell to the ground.
"Oh come on-" Alfred froze as he stepped forward and almost onto the feathers. "...You don't have a bird, do ya?"
"No, I don't-" Arthur turned around and stared, horrified, at the feathers. He lunged forward and snatched them up, taking his hand from his pocket as he did so. The halo cheerily zoomed up to float above his head again.
Alfred yelped in surprise. "It is a halo, you liar! Where are the feathers coming from?" He looked around for a white bird before stopping to stare at the Brit. A few more feathers then fell to the ground under him. "...Are you choking a bird under your robe?"
Arthur's wings fluffed up slightly with nervousness, the small bulges on his back growing more pronounced as they did. "I-I'm not! I don't have a bloody bird anywhere near me! Just leave, Alfred! I'm perfectly fine!"
"Holy shit." Before Arthur could protest or react, Alfred pulled the robe off him, staring at him with wide eyes. "...Who are you, and where's England?!"
Now free, the wings spread to their full length before settling down loosely against Arthur's back. "I am England!" he protested, backing away even more, until his back hit the wall.
Alfred blinked. "You- You- Wings!" he started to stammer, before trying to calm himself down. "D-Don't be scared Artie, I'm just...whoa."
"I'm not scared!" In truth, Arthur was a little nervous about what Alfred could do, such as try to rip out the wings or something along those lines. He knew that situation was unlikely, but you never know. He stayed against the wall. "And what, you've never seen wings before?"
"Not one someone! I mean...not counting the Victoria Secret's show, but!" Alfred cautiously stepped closer. "Can I...""
Arthur held perfectly still. "Can you what?" he asked quietly.
"...Touch them?"
Arthur hesitated, weighing the pros and cons. Then, after a moment, he slowly spread them out. "J-Just be carefully, okay?" He glanced around for anything that could be possibly used as a defense weapon, just in case, and his eyes settled on a vase.
Alfred gently reached out and brushed his fingers against the feathers, eyes wide with awe. He quickly pulled back, as if scared he'd ruin something. "Whoa..." he breathed.
Arthur had closed his eyes at the touch, and he opened them now. "What?"
"That's real cool." Alfred let his fingers ghost over the feathers again. "Did ya tape these on or something?"
Arthur shivered at the touch. "No, they're actually attached to my back. By bone and muscle." He gestured to the base of the wings, where they melded smoothly with his back.
Alfred stepped to the side to look, eyes widening. "How?!"
"Normally...? I've never questioned the mechanics."
"I mean, where'd you get them?!"
"Britannia Angel. They should have disappeared when he left, and I don't know why they didn't."
"...Uh...elaborate."
Arthur stepped away from him. "Well, whenever I get too drunk, I turn into Britannia Angel. He then goes off and does some stuff during the night, and when morning comes, I turn back. I only have some vague snapshots of what he does, but I don't actually do the stuff. Except today the wings, toga, and halo didn't disappear, so I'm stuck like this for who knows how long."
Alfred stared at him before snickering softly. "Britannia Angel?"
Arthur reddened. "Shut up!"
The American let his snickering die down. "That's...That's really cool! Whoa- Can you fly?!"
"No, these are just for decoration." Arthur said sarcastically. "Of course I can bloody well fly!"
Alfred brightened up. "Then fly!"
"There's no room here, idiot. And I can't go outside and risk anyone seeing me like this."
Alfred blinked, bouncing in his spot a bit. "You're fine, just a lil' bit!"
Arthur hesitated for a moment, and then stalked over to the back door, opening it and stepping outside. The sunlight caught his toga and wings and made them seemingly glow with a blinding white light. "Don't you dare look up under my toga." he said before flapping powerfully and shooting up in the air.
Alfred watched, eyes going wide. "Holy- that's awesome!" he called up, loud enough for Arthur to hear.
The Brit felt really good. It was really exceedingly rare that he himself could fly, without the Angel interfering with anything. He did a few laps around his yard, making sure to stay low, before stopping in front of Alfred. He hovered in place a few inches off the ground, just high enough to make him taller than the other man, flapping every now and then to stay up.
Alfred flinched in surprise when Arthur stopped in front of him. His eyes were still wide in awe and he broke into a smile, looking up at him. "Awesome."
Arthur smiled a bit in response as he dropped to the ground, landing lightly. He then immediately rushed back inside so that no one would see him if they stuck their heads over the fence.
"Oi!" Alfred jogged after him, closing the door behind him. "Calm down, you're fine."
"I don't want to take any chances." Arthur suddenly stepped right up to Alfred and looked him straight in the eyes. "You cannot tell anyone about this, you hear?"
Alfred smirked lightly and nodded. "Yeah, yeah."
"I'm serious, America."
Shit, that tone always meant he was serious. "I got you, England."
Arthur stared at him for a moment more before stepping away. "Good. You can go home now." He turned away and slipped the robe back on.
Alfred watched him. "No way, someone'll take ya to the zoo! Lemme try and help~!"
"Help with what? Unless someone barges into the house, I'll be fine as long as I stay inside." The zoo part scared him, though. Very much so. The United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland, even in angel form, was not someone to be displayed at the zoo. Arthur didn't think he could ever live that down.
"Turn ya back! And what if someone does barge in?! You'll be stuck in a cage!"
Arthur paled even more at that. "I-I'll be fine. Besides, what can you do to help turn me back? You know nothing of magic."
"So? I could help with little stuff..."
"Such as?"
"Uh...make food and stuff? I dunno, I'll be your bodyguard and stuff~!"
"Bodyguard?" Arthur raised an eyebrow. But then he thought about the cage and zoo again and considered his options. "A-Alright...I suppose it wouldn't be too bad if you stay..."
Alfred fist-pumped. "Awesome! No one'll hurt 'cha, I promise~!"
Arthur smiled softly again. "Thank you..." he said quietly.
"No problem." Alfred smiled back, before clapping his hands loudly. "Welp! What now?"
Arthur jumped slightly at the loud noise. "I'm not sure. I was planning on simply waiting and seeing if I'll turn back."
"Oh, kay, that's a good idea..." Alfred looked around. "I guess so. What can we do when we wait?"
"You can start by getting me some Advil and water." Arthur moaned. His headache, which had fled in the panic of Alfred discovering him like this, returned now full force. He walked over to the couch and collapsed onto it, careful of his wings.
Alfred nodded and left to search the house for the items. He found the Advil in the bathroom and water in the kitchen. He brought them over to him in a few minutes. "Arthur?"
Wincing, Arthur sat up and accepted the items. He downed them and took the robe off, curling back into the couch. One wing was hanging off over the side, and the other was resting over his eyes to shut out the light.
Alfred smiled softly at the pose, and then moved to pull the blinds down. Once he did that, he draped a blanket over the resting Brit.
Arthur mumbled a 'Thank you', and the wing over his eyes relaxed and slid off him to join its counterpart on the floor, somehow managing not to disturb the blanket. He then drifted off to sleep.
Alfred stared down at him for a little while before plopping down on the floor and playing gently with his feathers.
He was still doing so when Arthur woke up a half-hour later. "Nice, aren't they?" he asked sleepily.
Alfred nodded with another smile. "They're real soft."
Arthur reached down, fumbling around for a moment before finding his robe. He withdrew one of the previously discarded feathers and offered it to him. "You can have this one if you want."
"Thanks, Artie!" Alfred brightened up and carefully took it.
Arthur nodded. "A few more will come off eventually." He sighed with pleasure, enjoying the feeling when the American was playing with the wings.
Alfred examined the feather he'd received closely, stopping at his play with the rest for a moment. "Wow...is it magical?"
"No, not really. It's just a feather now, even if it is softer and whiter than others." Arthur murmured, shifting around for a moment before closing his eyes again.
"Sorry, you should sleep. Anything else you need?"
"Don't apologize...and no, I'm fine. You should get some sleep too." Arthur muttered, pulling the blanket up to his chin and effectively hiding the wings from sight.
Alfred blinked, glancing around. "...I guess so..." Though he would have no idea where to sleep.
Cracking his eyes open a bit, Arthur watched him. A second later, he was up. He pulled the couch out, turning it into a bed, before getting back into it and settling down on the very edge, leaving plenty of room for Alfred. "Here..." he said, getting comfortable again.
Alfred moved as Arthur started to pull it out, watching. "Oh...'kay, cool, thanks." He carefully climbed in on the other end of the bed.
"Mhm...good night, then." Arthur closed his eyes, and drifted off.
Alfred sighed and muttered a 'Night' back, trying to fall asleep. Which he did after a few minutes.
Arthur wasn't able to sleep for long, though, and he woke up ravenous half an hour later. He slipped out of bed in a way that wouldn't disturb Alfred and padded to the kitchen in search of food. He groaned when he saw the literally empty shelves. Deliberating for a moment, he went upstairs and pulled on some clothes, putting on a big trench coat over them to hide his wings. He then stepped out to go buy some food.
When Alfred woke up, he turned to look behind him and paled when he couldn't find Arthur. He immediately froze, calling the other nation's name. When no one responded, he got up and started to look around quickly.
Arthur, meanwhile, glanced around nervously as he walked, convinced that someone would call him out for the wings in a moment. He hurried to the store and then stood there, trying to figure out what to buy. After a few minutes, he decided, bought the stuff, and went home, practically running. He entered the house quietly and went to the kitchen as silently as he could manage.
Alfred was in there, and when he heard the other's arrival he turned on his heel. "Arthur, where the hell were you?!" He hugged him tightly.
Arthur froze. "A-Alfred? I just went to get some food."
"Why didn't you wake me up so I could come?! Or know?!"
Arthur squirmed slightly in his grip. "I didn't want to disturb you."
"So?! I thought you got hurt!"
"You were worried?"
"No shit!"
Arthur tried pulling away from the hug, his back stiff. "Well I apologize for worrying you, but as you can see, I was fine." He didn't mention how paranoid he was the whole time.
Alfred felt him stiffen and try to pull back, so he let him. "Sorry, sorry, but I was fucking worried! Don't do that again, damnit!"
Arthur sighed and leaned forward tiredly, resting his forehead on Alfred's shoulder. "I'm sorry for that. Next time I'll be sure to wake you." he said, his voice coming out slightly mechanical-like. He didn't add how it would be in the most annoying way possible.
Alfred blinked, looking at him, surprised by his sudden closeness. "...Okay... thanks."
Arthur moved back again and unpacked what he'd bought. "Would you mind making something? I'm a tad hungry."
Alfred nodded. "What'd you buy?"
"Eggs, milk, cheese, mushrooms, ground coffee, tea, some biscuits, and some strawberries."
"...The hell do I make with that?!"
"Omelet?"
"...Oh."
Arthur chuckled lightly. "You really didn't put that together?" he asked, and took off the trench coat. He also shed the shirt underneath it, so he was just wearing pants and the toga. The top of it went over his shoulder, but the skirt was tucked into his pants. This way, the wings were free again.
Alfred snickered at the way he looked. "Well, I dunno, I don't think you'd wanna have strawberries in it."
"The strawberries would be on the side, idiot." Arthur said, taking the tea and coffee and starting to make it. Even though he was a horrible cook, his drinks always came out good, even the coffee.
"I'm not an idiot-" Alfred's nose scrunched up. "Strawberries and mushrooms?"
"I don't know, do what you want."
Alfred rolled his eyes as he gathered all the necessary supplies to start making the omelet.
Arthur made the tea and coffee and set the cups on the table. He then sat down and watched Alfred work.
The American kept his back to the table, fixing his glasses from time to time as he worked. Minutes later, he flipped an omelet onto a plate in front of Arthur. "There."
"Thank you." Arthur took a piece of it. "Mmm, it's good." He took a sip of his tea and pointed to the coffee on the table across from him. "There's your...drink."
"You made me coffee?" Alfred hadn't realized the smell. "Wow...thanks."
Arthur shrugged. "Yes, well...you don't really like tea, and I had no coffee, so I bought some."
Alfred smiled a bit. "Thank you."
"No problem." Arthur finished the omelet and leaned back.
Alfred drank some of his coffee, looking at him. "So what's up?"
"Oh, not much. I'm just stuck as a bloody angel for who knows how long, but that's most certainly not a problem." Arthur muttered.
Alfred rolled his eyes. "Some angel you are."
"Excuse me? There's a halo, wings, and a blasted toga, what more do I need?"
"Angels don't curse. Or have gigantic eyebrows."
Arthur huffed and stood up, walking over to him. The scowl was gone from his face, and he was smiling. He looked happy. "Alfred..." he murmured in a soft, breathy voice when he reached him. "I'm sorry I can't do anything about the eyebrows..." he said all innocent-like. He pouted slightly as he rested a hand on Alfred's shoulder.
Alfred stared up at him. "...The fuck?"
Arthur smiled down gently at him, reaching up with his other hand to run it through Alfred's hair. "Oh, don't worry love, this is my nice angel side. Is this better?"
"Holy shit, you're scaring me." Alfred bowed his head a bit under his hand.
Arthur suddenly backed away from him, looking like he was about to cry. "So you don't like me?" His wings curled upwards to surround his shoulders, partially hiding his face.
Alfred blinked, completely not knowing what was going on. "N-Not true, Art, what the hell?!"
"Yes it is, why are you even here?!" Arthur hugged himself, looking absolutely miserable.
"Holy f-fuck." Alfred got up and gently went over to him. "U-Um, you okay?"
"N-No, I'm not!" He bowed his head.
Alfred gently reached out to hug him.
Arthur hugged him back for a moment before hitting him in the side, hard. "Good, now don't make me bloody do that ever again!" he snapped, the familiar scowl back on his face.
"OW! Shit!" Alfred fell to his knees, holding his side. "Owwww. You were nicer earlier."
"You want nice, go to Britannia Angel, the bloody pussy."
Alfred groaned. "Ow..." He lay down on the ground.
Arthur sighed and gently rubbed the area he had hit. "Sorry...but you deserved it. And why are you here? Why didn't France come himself?"
"...The hell are you talking about? I came by and found you- why would France come anyways?!" Alfred let him rub the spot, relaxing a bit.
"To poke fun, the bastard. He always relishes a chance for new blackmail." Arthur stopped for a moment as something sunk in. "Oh god, if he'd found me..." Well, Britannia Angel wouldn't be as innocent, that's for sure.
"Okay, whatever." Alfred rubbed the spot again, since Arthur stopped.
The Brit rose and went to the door of his cellar. Time to actually do something about the angel parts. "Stay up here. There's ghosts down there." he told him.
Alfred froze. "Wh-What?! Why are you going down then?!"
"Because I have to find a spell to turn me back." Arthur opened the door and was met with a gust of cool air.
Alfred ran over, grabbing him and hugging him tightly, kicking the door shut at the same time. "No! You can't go there!"
"A-Alfred! I can't very well stay like this! Let me go, I'll be fine!" Arthur protested, struggling against the American's arms. It didn't work out that well.
"No! What if the ghosts hurt you?!"
Arthur laughed. "They won't hurt me, don't worry."
"They will."
Arthur looked deep into his eyes. "Don't worry, Alfred, they won't. But I really have to find a way back. You wouldn't want me to stay like this forever, right?"
"They will, ghost are evil!"
"They're not evil, and even if they did attack, I would be able to take care of them."
"No! Ghosts!"
Arthur sighed. "Will you come with me, then? To protect me?"
Alfred paled. "F-From ghosts? Y-You could stay!"
"Alfred. Calm down." Arthur sighed again. "Look, there's no ghosts, I just said that so you would stay up here. And I do need to find a way to turn back."
"...Why'd you lie?!"
"I didn't want you down there. There's delicate, private stuff there that I don't need you being around."
"...But there's no ghosts?"
"No. No ghosts."
"...You sure?"
"Pretty sure, yes."
"Pretty sure?!"
"POSITIVE. That better?"
"You sure?"
"Absolutely fucking positive. Can you let me go now?"
Alfred slowly let go. "Call if you need help."
"Thank you." Arthur opened the door and went downstairs, shutting it behind him. It was dark in the cellar, so he bumped into a few things. He cursed at them and finally found his bookshelf. He lit a candle and settled down to read.
Alfred waited, expecting to be called down for help. When he wasn't, he settled himself on the couch with Arthur's laptop, which he found laying around.
Arthur took down some spell books and sat down one of the chairs by the book case. His fairy friends appeared to help. One particular mischievous fairy grabbed the book he was currently reading and flew off with it.
"Hey- No!" he yelled. "Give that ba-" He cut off with a curse. When he'd gotten up, one of his wings had clipped the shelf and he tumbled down in a heap. The fairies disappeared at the shout and the book fell to the ground.
Alfred flinched when he heard a crash. "Art?!" He quickly ran down the stairs, blinking and looking around. "Arthur?! Are you okay?!"
Arthur groaned and propped himself up on his arms. "Ugh...yes, I'm fine. Just some fairies messing around."
"Are you sure?" Alfred ran over to him, helping him up.
He leaned heavily on the American for a moment before stepping away. "Thank you. Yes, I'm sure. But you have to leave now." Arthur prayed that Alfred wouldn't look around too closely and see the different memorabilia he kept there, namely photo albums of him and his brothers, and him and a younger Alfred. He turned quickly to the stairs. "Let's go, there's nothing here."
Alfred blinked. "Okay, sorry, sorry." He let Arthur lead him away, though he was a bit curious now.
Arthur went upstairs and collapsed onto the couch. "Nothing to do but wait now, then."
"So you didn't find anything?" Alfred hoped Arthur wouldn't mind his laptop was used.
"No. How did you guess the password?" Arthur asked, pointing to the laptop.
Alfred shrugged. "I did hacking before."
Arthur rolled his eyes. "Of course you did." He paused as an idea came to him. "Alfred, I'll need you to run out later and get a few things from the store for me."
"Oh. Yeah, sure, no problem. I mean, the hell do ya need suddenly?"
"Oh...just some more food." Arthur said, and proceeded to list some of the most obscure British foods he could think of.
Alfred blinked at him, and after a few seconds raised a hand. "Ugh...write me a list, dude."
Arthur smirked and wrote down the list in his best calligraphy cursive. In other words, it was nearly unreadable. "Here you are." he said, handing the paper over to him.
Alfred stared at him for a bit, before blinking up at him. "...You better gimme enough money for all of this."
Arthur sighed. "It's 'give me' not 'gimme', if anything." He got up and walked over to the closet, digging out his wallet. He passed Alfred a few notes. "This should cover it. Get nothing else."
"No tip for the delivery man?" Alfred asked, pursing his lips.
"If you do a good job, you'll get a tip."
"But I wanna use my tip for a snack."
Arthur pinched his nose. "Fine. Hell, you are so annoying." He thrust one more note at him and turned away irritably, placing the wallet away back in its place in his coat pocket.
Alfred grinned brightly. "Thanks Artie!" He stood up.
"Just go already." Arthur snapped, leaving the room.
Alfred was already pulling his shoes and coat on. But as his fingers curled around the doorknob, he glanced back for a brief moment. "Hey Art? Lock the door, kay?"
"But you don't have a key. And I may be...unable to open the door later."
"The fuck does that mean?!"
Arthur shrugged. "I could be asleep. Or in the basement." Or drunk. But he didn't add that one out loud.
"Then don't go to sleep or in the basement."
"Alright, alright. I'll lock the bloody door."
"Then come on."
Arthur stalked to the door and held it open for him. "Now just go already."
Alfred stepped partially out. "And open it when I knock four times." he instructed him.
"I will. Go." Arthur practically pushed him out.
"Oi!" Alfred stopped outside the door. "Lock it."
Arthur slammed the door in his face and made a big show of locking it. "There. Are you satisfied?" he mouthed through the small panel of glass near the top of the stout door. Then he turned and marched away.
Alfred had been tempted to mouth 'No' right back at him, but Arthur had already turned away. He rolled his eyes at him before turning himself and making his way to the store, trying to read whatever the fuck Arthur had written.
Arthur made a beeline for his liquor cabinet. He'd had a brilliant idea that if he could get drunk enough to call the Angel, then maybe he would turn back to normal when the other being left again. He lined up a few bottles of rum and whiskey on the table before writing a note to Alfred. It read 'I apologize you have to find me in this state, but it's the only idea I have at this point.'
He had just taken his second sip of alcohol when the front door crashed open. "Alfred, you bloody idiot, you were supposed to knock four times!" he snapped, rushing to try and hide the bottles.
But he needn't have worried about that. It wasn't Alfred who walked through the doorway.
"Privyet, Angliya." Ivan said, smiling as he entered.
"R-Russia?!" Arthur's wings fluffed up in shock, and his eyes widened. He stood, chair crashing to the ground behind him. "What are you doing here?" he asked, starting to slowly back away.
Ivan looked thoughtful. "I was hiding from my sister in your country, when I happened to see a flying man in your backyard." He slowly stepped closer and closer. "I came closer and saw you." His smile grew. "We will have fun, da?" By this point, he had backed Arthur into a corner. "I've never had and angel to play with." He reached out and stroked the feathers.
Arthur shivered at the touch. It didn't feel good, like when Alfred was touching them. "A-Alfred..." It slipped out.
Ivan's eyes turned dark. His fingers abruptly curled around a feather and he ripped it out. There was blood on the tip. He let it drop, and stamped on it with his heel. "Do not mention that name." His voice was soft, but that only made it scarier.
The Brit winced when his precious feather was ripped out, and again when it was trodden on. "G-Get out!" He tried pushing the Russian away.
Ivan, still smiling, kept him back effortlessly. He wrapped his scarf around Arthur's mouth, nose, and neck, and waited. Once Arthur lost consciousness, he tied and gagged him. He glanced around the kitchen and frowned. "This place is so boring..." He placed a vase full of sunflowers on the table. "Much better." He smiled broadly again and left, leaving the broken door ajar.
Where did that Russia come from?! Oh right, the bushes. XD
Angliya= England in Russian
So what do you guys think? All credit in this fic for America goes to my awesome RP partner, while I was writing as England (again).
