"It could have been yesterday."
"So?"
"I just think we've been too... distant."
"Everyone is distant nowadays."
A humorless laugh echoes, through the dark and dank streets that were once bright and beautiful and inhabited.
"Well, that's just how the cookie crumbles, I suppose." The first man says, and he might have been smiling bitterly at the once-strong nation.
"Can't blame me for trying to improve world relations," and the second man shrugs, leaning up against a faded brick wall. A cigarette drops ash onto a much-loved faded leather bomber jacket, quickly brushed off.
The other man snorts, a brittish accent heavily coating his next words."What relations? Last I checked we're all at war in some way or another."
"Well. That's just how the cookie crumbles," The second man repeats, brushing blonde hair out of blue eyes and attempting to flatten an eternally-stubborn piece down. He drops the cigarette and squashes it under his heel.
"See you in the next war?" The brit askes, not really a question.
"If you mean meeting, then yeah." and the American turns to leave, but stopped by a hand on his shoulder.
"Take care of yourself." Green eyes sparkle, a hint of old mischief in them.
Blue eyes reply with a smile and sparkle of hope. America blinks at England.
"You too, old man."