"Aw, c'mon, let me stay one more night!"
The whines reverberated off the walls and directly back to the source, who seemed completely unaffected. The one he was whining at, however, visibly cringed.
"No. America, I let you stay here all weekend, I have work to attend to." The blond said firmly, giving little room for argument. Though of course the younger nation could find some way to squeeze himself into any situation.
"But Artiiiiie! It's so lonely over at my place! There's no one else there in that big mansion!"
"And whose fault is that? Not mine, I'll tell you that right now. Why don't you invite your alien friend over? And I thought I told you not to call me that!"
Discussing things with America never ended well. He always behaved like such a child, and only to England. Sure, at meetings he was more obnoxious than France, but at least then he tried to use somecommon sense. But here, when they were alone, for some reason the bloody nation always got his way.
Not this time though. England was determined to get to his work. It wasn't like he didn't care for his former colony, he loved the American with all his heart and everyone knew it, he just got tedious sometimes.
"He's off doing something somewhere, I don't know, but I can't invite him over. Will you just please let me stay? Please England?" That's when he proceeded to drop to his knees. Literally. Somehow, England still managed to hold his ground.
"No, c'mon, up off the floor." England grabbed a pathetic America by the arm and pulled him to his feet, avoiding eye contact all the while. He knew that if he saw those bright blue puppy dog eyes, America would be staying the night again.
"Fine, I'll go." The Englishman had already crossed his arms with a smug smile on his face when America spoke up again. "Ifyou give me a goodbye kiss."
Somehow, England knew this was coming, but rolled his eyes nonetheless. He walked forward a step as a dark blush tinted his cheeks. America suppressed a laugh as the Brit stood on his tiptoes and pressed their lips together. America snaked his arms around England's waist, and England hooked his arms around America's neck.
They stayed that way for quite a while, simply enjoying each other's company. England was the one to break the kiss, eyes half-lidded and a warm smile on his face. "Okay, now get out."
America fake pouted and pushed England away, who grumbled something under his breath. "Fine, I'm going, I'm going. I'll see you tomorrow at the meeting, right?"
England nodded, and motioned for the young nation to leave. "See you, Love." He said quietly as the other left.
"Bye Artie!" America closed the door behind him before England had the chance to correct him, which England had to give him credit for. He was a smart boy.
The older nation shook his head with a smile as he walked into his living room. He sat on the couch and clicked on the television before taking a small sip from his teacup. His face contorted in disgust. "Ech...Cold."
The blond stood from the couch and quickly made his way to the kitchen, where he proceeded to dump the cold tea into the sink and clean the ceramic cup. He filled the kettle with water and put it out on the stove before going to rifle through his wide variety of tea, trying to decide on what brew would go nicely with...He looked over his shoulder into the living. Ah, the news. Surely he had a depressing type of tea.
He chuckled to himself a bit. The news never had anything good to report. Only depressing things going on in the countries they aired in. Shame, really. No one wants to hear about a terrorist attack on America- wait, what?
England turned around so fast his head spun. He had to focus his eyes on the television, due to the fact that everything around him seemed to be turning black. The screen proudly displayed the tragedy, and the scrolling letters in red print only made it more real. England's hearing had been tuned out by a dull ringing, but was returning.
"...Officials say this was the worst terrorist attack on the country since Pearl Harbor, barely passing up the attacks that occurred in New York on September 11th, 2001. Here we have a direct quote from the president of the United States, that reads 'This attack was brutal and ruthless. It's evident that it had been planned for a very long time, with the intent of destroying as much as possible'. The city of San Francisco is in ruins now, as firefighters and police desperately try to recover whatever survivors they can, though it has proved to be quite the challenge. With there currently being so way to recover the bodies of the hundreds of victims that fell into the water from the bridge blasts, the devastation of families is clear..."
England's legs felt weak, like they could no longer support him. He fell to his knees as the world began closing in on him. Desperate thoughts ran through his mind, and he found it nearly impossible to focus on one that actually mattered in the situation. One, however, managed to catch his attention. What happened to America?
The giddy blond bounced down the street after leaving England's house. He didn't have anywhere to be at the moment, so why not take the time to explore London? He never really had a chance to, due to the fact that anytime he was there, he was...engaged in other activities at England's house. Now seemed like a perfect time.
America gazed around him, a wide smile dominating his features, despite the overhead clouds and light rain. He was always told his smile could light up a room, maybe they could light up a whole city too!
The young nation walked the streets of London, gaping in awe at every little thing. He looked much like a kid in a candy store, really, eyes wide and mouth agape. He even declared his love of double-decker busses to a random passer-by, who proceeded to give him a very strange look before scurrying off.
America had wandered the streets of London for quite a while before something felt...off. He couldn't quite put his finger on it. It felt as if there was a knife inside him, and he began to feel woozy, his footing failing him.
He stopped walking, and looked around desperately for a park bench or some other decent place to sit. Finding nothing in a close enough vicinity, the pained country shuffled to the edge of the sidewalk. He didn't get far, however, before he collapsed to his knees with a strangled cry.
He clutched desperately at his stomach, where an unbearable emptiness began spreading, taking over. It spread to his chest, constricting his breathing. His vision began fading, and he doubled over more as he coughed up blood.
America attempted to cry out for help, but the words because lost somewhere on the way out, and the only sound that escaped was a choked scream. That's when his world went black.