This month's meeting went unusually well; each country talked about the plans for their economy, solved arguments and disputes, and who (theoretically) was the best Texas Hold 'Em player. However, that argument was solved when Germany pointed out it was all luck of the hand.
The countries all had flown out to the United States for the meeting, and it was no coincidence that the conference hall where the meeting took place was near Alfred's house.
Being a good host, Alfred invited everyone over to 'chill and watch some football', as he put it. Canada went because he had nothing better to do, France wanted to catch up with Canada, and England wanted to make fun of America's ridiculous obsession with wrongly named sports. Alfred practically begged Kiku to join them, simply so he could witness his reaction to American sports, but failing to remember Japan's obsession with baseball. Everyone else's flights were the next morning, so they couldn't make it.
(x)
Alfred was out shopping for refreshments when he felt his phone buzz in his pocket.
'Alfred, how accurate are your weather reports? The news forecast says there is going to be a blizzard'. - Arthur Kirkland
'relax it'll be fine and why are you using correct punctuation grandpa learn some texting etiquette jesus christ,' Alfred responded, paying for the groceries and walking out to his car.
The drive home was filled constant buzzing as Arthur yelled at him through text message, a rather ineffective way of disciplining his former colony.
Alfred owned a three room apartment in the heart of the city. It was a weathered brownstone building with stairs leading up to a rather large carved oak door. The interior was contemporary, with cream colored walls and soft plush carpet. A small opening to the right of held shoes, and directly to the right, the room opened up. There was a window nook where you could sit and read, a small dining table, and a bookshelf. Deeper into the house there was a living room. A medium sized TV sat in a dark wood entertainment center that took up most of the wall. The shelves were lined with a variety of movies, games, books, and photo albums.
On the opposite wall was a dark gray three cushion couch, with a small table next to it that held a lamp. The final wall possessed two bedroom doors, the one closest to the couch was Alfred's room, it also was where the only bathroom in the apartment was located. The other was the guest bedroom, and unofficially Matt's room.
Alfred's room was medium sized, with a full sized bed with a poofy grey comforter sitting low to the ground in the corner. A trash can and a bedside table stood beside it, and on it, a small lamp. Two large desks consumed the corner of the room, topped off with a laptop and stacks of papers; a small TV sat on a stack of books on the corner of his desk. The back wall of Alfred's room was a shelf for personal items and books. It was also the place where he kept all his suitcases and duffle bags.
The guest room was smaller, with a bed that sat on a tall wooden bedframe, a bedside table that doubled as dresser, and on the back wall, a desk, a trash can, and a floor lamp. A cot was folded under the bed, in case there needed to be more than three places to sleep.
Alfred put the refreshments in the fridge and looked at the time. It was 3:55 PM; his guests should be arriving any minute.
Alfred's kitchen was tiny. Sitting in the far left corner of the house, it was mostly countertop. It was impossible to open the fridge door and dishwasher at once, and the stove door, when open, blocked off all the cabinets under the counter. A drying rack and toaster oven took up one side of the counter, and the sink took up the other, only leaving space for one or two plates either in between the two or at the end.
Matthew arrived first with Francis, bringing a bag of potato chips. Then Kiku, who gave Alfred a box of popular Japanese candy, wrapped neatly in pastel yellow paper. And finally Arthur, who arrived a good ten minutes after everyone else, with a six pack of beer.
"Pabst Blue Ribbon. Sheesh, this stuff is on the strong side," said Alfred, putting the beers on the countertop.
"Arthur," Matthew spoke up, "you do know the drinking age in the United States is twenty-one, right?"
"Oh well," Arthur snickered, shooting an amused glare at Alfred.
"Do you guys want anything to drink? I have soda,water, and Arthur brought beer."
"I want to try some American liquor." Francis spoke up, getting up and following Alfred into the kitchen.
"This one is on the strong side, at least for us. I heard European drinks were stronger than ours, though," Alfred commented, ripping a can off the pack and giving it to Francis.
(x)
"It gets dark early in America," said Kiku, looking out the window. He was sitting on one out of the two outdoor folding chairs that had to be set up so everyone had a place to sit.
"It's only because it's winter. It's way worse in other countries," Alfred remarked, noticing it was starting to snow. "Poor Sweden only gets one hour of sunlight during the winter."
(x)
As the game neared its end, Arthur spoke up, "It's really starting to come down heavy there, will it be safe to drive?"
"It's too dark to tell," Francis added.
"Yeah you're right, I'll go check…on the computer," Alfred said quietly, rubbing his temples and walking into his bedroom.
"What was that about?" Arthur asked, looking at Matthew.
"Looks like this snow storm is a rather big one, most of the country seems to be getting snowfall," Matt responded, checking the weather report on his phone, "the news says the meteorologists didn't predict it to be this intense."
"That's worrisome, but that doesn't answer why Amérique is acting unusual." added Francis, drinking the last of his beer.
"Alfred always has headaches. They get worse when the weather is bad or when the political parties are debating, which they are always doing," Matt explained, still reading news articles on his phone. "But it seems like an unearthly combination of both is happening right now."
"I hope Alfred doesn't get too sick." Kiku stated said worriedly.
"Dudes," Alfred said,sloppily walking back into the room, "there is like, four feet of snow on the ground already. You guys are stuck for the night."
Alfred's head was pounding. Not only were there multiple political campaigns were going on, but the blizzard had made car accidents increase. He could already feel the wrecks taking a toll on his body. He took some medicine while in his room, but it was going to take a while before it worked. It always made him groggy. He checked the time, 5:27 PM; at this rate he was going to crash by 6.
"That's unfortunate," Japan said. "Does that means flights are cancelled as well? I'll need to call and tell my boss they are."
"Count on it," said Alfred. He flopped down on the couch and turned down the volume on the TV. He wasn't interested in the game anymore, none of the teams he liked were playing that night anyway.
While the countries were calling their bosses and explaining the situation, Alfred went into the guest room to set up the spare bed. Matt kept a few changes of clothes and some toiletries in the top drawer of the dark dresser, but the other drawers were used for storage.
Alfred opened the spare drawers, taking out the sheets, blankets, and pillows and setting them on Matt's bed. Then, he took out the cot. Gripping the cold metal frame, he pulled it out from under the bed, the wheels leaving dents in the soft carpet. With a quick nudge upward, the bed sprung up, the thin mattress flopping on top.
His headache medicine started to take effect while he was making the bed. His eyelids grew heavy has the pounding reduced to a dull ache. The bed was made and pushed back against Matt's window, and now all he had to do was fix up the pull-out couch.
Alfred walked into the living room and yawned, his walking was shuffles now, and his eyelids were heavy. Despite that, he tried to be cheerful with his guests.
Matt was sitting in a vacant camping chair and talking to Francis enthusiastically in french.
Contrary to popular belief, Matt is actually a talkative person. He is a quiet person, though. Most people don't hear him, which bothers him; France acknowledges that he exists, though, and talks to him every chance he gets. Alfred is one of Matt's best friends, they spend most of their spare time together, which explains why Matt has his own room in Alfred's house and vice versa.
"I am going to, uhm, undo the couch thingy now, Francis, so… yeah." Alfred told Francis, who was sitting on the couch. He rubbed his face, god he was tired, we just ready to collapse…
"Al? You okay?" Asked Matthew. Alfred's eyes were closed and he was swaying heavily.
Extreme weather always tired Alfred out, there was no helping it, it just how things were for the countries. He usually slept it off but he had guests over…
Thump
(x)
Alfred woke up the next morning with another splitting headache and a foul taste in his mouth. Alfred looked down and saw that the trashcan beside his bed held vomit in it, he sighed, this usually happens when he didn't take his medicine. He took a tip of the water that was on his bedside table and laid flat on his back. Alfred hadn't noticed before, but there was someone else in the bed with him. He looked over and saw Matt, in the pair of pajamas he keeps at Alfred's house. He was fast asleep, curled up and hugging one of the pillows tightly. He looked so peaceful when he was asleep and truly happy. Alfred sat up and swung his feet over the side of the bed. His eyes strained to look for Texas as his hand fumbled clumsily around the bedside table. Realizing they weren't there, he stood up to go look for them. A wave of nausea overtook him, and we was quickly on his knees barfing into the trash can. Matt hastily got up and rushed over to help Alfred. He hurried into the bathroom, grabbing a towel, some medicine, and Texas.
"Blekh, what happened last night?" America asked, spitting into the trash can and wiping his mouth with the towel.
After Alfred had washed out his mouth, brushed his teeth, and taken some medicine, Matthew started to explain from the beginning.
"You collapsed last night, Francis caught you before you could hit your head on the coffee table, so that's good. We tried to wake you up, but you out, Alfred, you were really tired."
"Sorry about that."
Alfred still had a headache, he was going to have to sleep off all the bad stuff until the country got adjusted to the snow.
Once his stomach settled he made his way to the kitchen. Lucky for him, someone had already made coffee.
"Oh, Alfred you're awake," Kiku said, pouring a mug of coffee for him, "I hope you aren't feeling to bad. Arthur checked to see how much snow was on the ground before he went to bed, but when he opened the door, there was snow up to his waist!"
"It's even worse now." The Englishman commented. Arthur grunted as he sat up on the couch and stretched his back.
"Kiku." said Alfred.
"Hm?"
"Your bangs."
"Yes?"
"Do you usually clip them up?"
"Only in the mornings." Kiku responded, taking a sip of his coffee.
"Hmm, cute." Alfred commented, taking a sip of his coffee as well.
Arthur, Kiku, and Matt sat on the couch, and Alfred sat on one of the camping chairs. They decided on watching the morning news, to check the weather.
"New York is predicted to get eight feet of snow, with another blizzard coming in around noon." the Weather Man explained, pointing to various points on the blizzard. The giant snowstorm covered most of the New England states, which meant A) They were stranded in Alfred's house B) The planes wouldn't be flying anytime soon and C) Alfred's headaches would only get worse.
"Their fighting over whether or not to use salt on the roads, because it's bad for the environment and such," Alfred sighed. His face contorted in pain and he rubbed his temples, "there always has to be a debate, nothing is never good enough."
Arthur looked at his former colony worriedly. Alfred didn't exactly have the most efficient government, or land for all that matter. His bathroom countertop was lined with medication to reduce the pain of the common trembles on the west coast, the political debates, and every other issue that would affect him.
"Alfred."
"Yeah, Arthur?"
"I didn't know you spoke spanish."
The room filled with silence, Matt and Kiku anticipating Alfred's next words.
"Do you know how my country got it's people? They immigrated from yours of course, among other countries. How do you not know that."
Alfred was clearly annoyed Arthur of all people didn't know his history. Maybe he'll give him an american history textbook for his birthday to get back at him.
"You were throwing up in the bathroom last night and you were speaking spanish. Also, don't snap at me you fucker," Arthur stopped at took a sip of his coffee, "I tried to find out what was wrong, but you were just mumbling in spanish."
"Was I? I don't remember…"
"Do you know what caused it?" Kiku asked.
"Yeah, I have to take this stuff so I won't throw up at night, because the west coast gets so many little earthquakes, and it upsets my stomach while I sleep. 'Cuz ya know… time zones and such."
Alfred caught Kiku looking at him. His dark brown eyes filled with worry, and damn, was it cute. Alfred noticed he was wearing a pair of Matt's old blue pajama pants that no longer fitted him and a worn red tee shirt that stopped past his waist. Even though the pant's legs were rolled up, they will were extremely long. His head was resting on his knees as he watched the news intentively. Alfred couldn't help but blush. Kiku's stupid fucking hair and the baggy pajama pants- it was too much.
Arthur, on the other hand, was wearing a pair of Alfred's plain red pajama pants and a white tee shirt that he filled rather nicely, even though he was lankier than him. His eyebrows furrowed as the news cast talked about different campaign strategies used by the different political parties. He had dark circles under his eyes, which were a duller green from lack of sleep.
Matthew was dozing off in between the other countries, his head back against the wall, his legs spread out, and his coffee loosely braced on his huge hands. He was wearing grey sweatpants and his sweatshirt, and his glasses were pushed up on his forehead.
Alfred yawned and made his way to the kitchen. The news only amplified his head ache, but his guests seemed to be invested in it, so he wasn't going to say anything. He rinsed out his mug and put it in the dishwasher, not planning to get a new cup anytime soon. Not that he could stomach it, unfortunately he loses his appetite when he doesn't take his nausea medicine. He walked over to the reading nook and looked out the window. White. The whole ground was covered and it was still snowing. Not as harsh of course, but every flake meant his head pounded harder.
"I need to sleep this off, help yourselves to whatever. Matt practically lives here so ask him for stuff." Alfred said groggily, slipping into his room and closing the door.
It was going to be a rough couple of days.