Rosa Kirkland knew she would never be good enough for Amelia Jones. She was
rude, overbearing, unpleasant, boring, and the one time she'd ever been anything to the American nation, her own horrid personality had torn that sentiment to pieces. Rosa also knew Amelia was way out of her league in appearance. She was beautiful, with a perfect body and cute features, while the English girl was plain and blatantly lacking in the looks department.
No, she would never be good enough. Amelia had no reason to love her. She probably
didn't even swing that way. So Rosa sat alone in her living room, not even touching the tea she'd made hours ago. She was sure it was thoroughly cold by that point. The English nation sighed bleakly.
"Don't think I'll be going out today," she muttered to herself. "Amelia should be glad. She
doesn't have to look at this ugly wretch all day."
Running her pallid hands through her tangled blonde hair-she hadn't bothered to brush
it or pin it into her usual pigtails - Rosa pushed herself to her feet. There was supposed to be a world meeting in the afternoon, but she was definitely not up to it. Her older sisters could fill in for her, even though they weren't England's representatives. They were still the United Kingdom. They could deal with it on their own.
Moving tiredly to her room, Rosa removed her red-rimmed glasses from her face. After
placing them on her dresser, she reached into her dress pocket and pulled out her cellphone, shooting a quick text to Adlais - the representative of Wales - that she would have to cover for her. Rosa then lay down on her bed, having not put on shoes or changed out of her nightdress that morning, and stared up at her blue-painted ceiling. Blue, like Amelia's eyes.
Rosa shut her eyelids tight over her own jade orbs, not wanting to look at something that
reminded her of the American at that moment. Normally she'd be drinking right now, just to drown out her own thoughts, but she was too exhausted to do even that. Slowly, Rosa drew her sheets up around her shoulders, tucking her legs closer to her body. It was a day for sleep.
What must have been hours later, Rosa's restless slumber was short by the ringing of a
doorbell some distance away. It was hers, the English girl's hazy mind concluded, but she chose to ignore it. She didn't want to deal with visitors at the moment.
Then she heard the voice. "Rosaaaaaa! It's me! Amelia! I know you're heeeeere!"
Rosa pulled her pillow over her head, trying in vain to return to sleep. Of all the people, it
had to be Amelia. "Why does fate persist in mocking me?" she murmured under her breath. "Why can't pain just leave me be?"
"Rosa, I'm coming in!" Amelia shouted. Crap. She'd forgotten she'd given the American
the spare key. Burying herself in her covers, Rosa forced herself to be still. Maybe if she wasn't seen, Amelia would just shrug and leave. But then she remembered the tea she'd left on her living room table. Amelia would definitely find that suspicious. Exhaling heavily, Rosa slid to the edge of her bed and off of it. She stood, deciding to meet the American on her own terms.
She certainly wasn't ready for the shocked gasp that greeted her upon leaving her room.
She didn't look that bad, did she? Her heart clenched painfully at the thought.
"Rosa, are you okay?" Amelia asked with concern. Her figure was blurred; Rosa had
forgotten her glasses on her dresser. "Wales told me you were sick."
"And I am," the English country lied simply, "so please let me recover in peace."
"No way, girl! I'm staying to help you out!" the American replied with a laugh.
"Absolutely not."
"Aw, come on Rosie! It's a hero's job!"
"The word is heroine, and the answer is still no."
"Heroine, shmeeroine. I'm helping you." With that, the strong nation scooped Rosa up in
her arms and started walking. The other girl blushed fiercely, from both embarrassment and the closeness to her crush. The American didn't let her down until they reached her bed, when she placed her former caretaker gently down on the sheets.
"Now let me take your temperature," she said, raising a hand.
"No way," Rosa protested, struggling. If the other girl found out she wasn't sick, there
would be questions. Questions that, if answered, would lead to severe consequences.
"Rosa, really, I'm just trying to help!" Amelia growled as she tried to hold the English girl
down. "God, since when did you become such a little kid?"
"I am not!" Rosa shouted angrily. "Just let me be!"
Amelia looked at her strangely, but released her grip. "Geez, what was that about?"
"Nothing!" the smaller country replied a little too fast. At the American's skeptical look,
she continued. "I just...don't want to be taken care of, especially by you."
"Aw, c'mon!" Then, Amelia's hand was on her forehead like lightning. Panicking, Rosa
slapped it away, but the damage had been done. The other woman stared at her, confused.
"You, um, don't have a fever, Rosie. You sure you're sick?" she asked, doubt filling her
bright blue eyes.
"I-I am! Just not with a bloody fever," Rosa said quickly.
"Then...what is it? You're economy's good, so it's not that. What's going on, Rosie?"
"I don't know," she leaned back against her wall. She didn't even know why this beautiful
girl was still bothering with her, the ugly, worthless one.
"I don't believe you."
She shot up, gaping at Amelia in disbelief. For one, it was completely unlike the
American to look past appearances. Then there was her expression. She looked hard at the English woman, a harsh and suspicious look on her face.
"Amelia - what are you talk-"
"Don't lie to me, England."
Amelia never called her England. Not unless she was really mad. Rosa couldn't help but
think that the American truly did hate her.
"England."
Rosa looked away, then whispered, "Okay...I'm not sick. I just had Adlais cover for me."
She heard the oddly quiet voice behind her. "Why? It's not like you to skip a meeting.
Rosa, what's wrong?"
Her heart just about broke. "Stop. Amelia, would you just stop already? I can't take it
anymore."
"Wait, what?" Amelia F. Jones: eloquent as always. "Rosie, what are you talking about?"
"You keep..." Rosa heard her voice break. "You keep acting like you actually care about
me, but - but I know the truth, alright? I know how you feel about me. Bloody hell, I know how everyone feels about me. So just stop lying to me, please."
"Rosa...I...what did I...what did I do wrong?"
"You didn't do anything!" She felt the first tear slide down her face. "It's me, it's all fucking
me! I know I'm a useless git, okay? I know I'm a horrible, worthless prat and I know you hate me, like everyone else!" More tears fell. "So you don't have to keep doing this! I'd rather...I just want you to be honest with me! I know, I'm a sad arse who deserves nothing more than what I got: a world full of people who want me gone." A sob made its way past her lips as she cried, pulling her bare legs against her chest and burying her face in them.
"Rosa..."
Suddenly, there were arms around her, holding her together as she fell apart.
"W-why are you...why are you d-doing th-this?" she choked out between hiccups, tears
still drenching her face.
"Why do you think all that, Rosa?" Amelia whispered in her ear, hugging her tighter.
"B-because it's b-bloody t-true! I'm ugly and t-terrible and y-you hate me!" Rosa cried,
still not raising her head.
"No!" Amelia shouted suddenly, grabbing the English girl's chin and forcing her to look
up, into those striking blue eyes. "You're not terrible! You're wonderful! I've never met anyone like you, Rosa. You're not ugly, either. I've always...I've always thought you were a beautiful person." Slowly, the American ran a smooth hand through Rosa's matted hair, working carefully around the tangles. "And I don't hate you, Rosa. I've never hated you."
"Y-you're j-just saying that!" she yelled in response. "I r-ruined your l-life, remember? Of
course you h-hate me!"
"I mean, yeah, I resented you for a while, but I've never hated you! Rosa, I-"
"Don't! J-just don't. If you...if you have any kind of pity for me, at all, just go. Don't keep
saying that. It just makes it hurt worse. If you...if by any chance, you really don't hate me, then prove it. If not, then please. Get out."
"All right," Amelia leaned in closer. "I'll prove it."
Then there was no more space between them. Amelia was kissing her. Rosa didn't
move. Amelia was kissing her. It was some kind of joke. It had to be...right?
When the American pulled away, there was a reluctance to the gesture that Rosa, still in
shock, only barely noticed.
"Rosa," Amelia said with all seriousness. "You're a beautiful person. You're kind, you're
funny, and you're always there for me even when I'm being a complete ass. Now, I don't know how you feel about me - before today I thought you were the one that hated me - but I know that I...I love you, Rosa. I've loved you for years."
"Y-you...love...me?" Rosa murmured, unable to fully comprehend what she was hearing.
"B-but you're...you could do so much better than me. You're amazing. I-God, I mean, um...I need my glasses!" Snatching the thin bifocals from her dresser, she started cleaning them with her sheets as a distraction. Her face burned, no doubt completely red. Placing them over her tear-streaked face, she blinked a few times to adjust to the clearer view. Amelia was blushing but didn't look away, a hopeful look in her eyes.
"Rosa, I don't want anyone better. There isn't anyone better for me than you."
"Th-that...b-but I'm not...I'll never be...good enough..."
Amelia's warm hands caressed Rosa's face, stroking it lovingly. "Rosa Kirkland, you've
always been good enough for me. You've always been the best for me. I love you."
Rosa didn't reply immediately. Instead, she leaned forward again, placing a light kiss on
the American's lips.
"I...I love you, too..." she whispered, their foreheads touching.
Amelia smiled. "Good."
Rosa smiled as well.
She was good enough, after all.
I'm a firm believer of the "don't judge a book by its cover" thing. I wanted to put that in writing I guess. And I couldn't help but notice that Amelia is the sexy, popular girl type, while Rosa (and that is her human name. get it right bitches) is a bit more on the plain side and is sorta flat chested. I mean, she's still pretty, but not totally sexy. And she's also pretty stuck up and mean sometimes. (I love her anyway~~~~~~~) But I thought, since I'm a USxUK shipper and I like Nyotalia...yeah.
Peace, bros!