America's golden blond hair was resting on the meeting table as he slowly fell asleep. The other nations, primarily England and Germany, were irked but used to America's rude behavior at meetings. At least, when America was asleep he didn't make any annoying comments and he looked kind of cute, but none of the other nations would ever admit to that. Russia's speech ended, concluding the meeting, while America began to stir, his head brushing against his discarded papers. His movements were very well, restrained, as if he were trying to prevent something from happening. As all the other nations gathered up their papers and left, mostly peacefully, England decided it was time he give America a piece of his mind. The older nation waited until the click of the door as the last nation left, which it would turn out to be the sleeping Greece but...
"Git! How many times have I told you not to sleep in meetings!" A few noticeable seconds passed by, England's expression of anger converted into one of concern, because unless America was dying he would speak. He spoke in the shower (more like sang but...), he spoke in the car, he spoke in his sleep occasionally, and he even spoke in the elevator which usually drowned out the boring elevator music with his overly-peppy voice. Which was never good. "America are you..?" England was cut off as America pushed him back and his shook his head. In a raspy whisper, like he was dying of thirst, he said, "Go home England, please." England took another step back and another. America hadn't called him England or used the word please in centuries, if he ever used it to begin with. His emerald eyes looked up into America's azure ones and saw something, something like hunger, a yellow ring appearing on the edge of his irises.
America restated, "Get out of here before I do something I regret." England's eyes were entrapped in the yellow ring slowly growing around the man's irises. America pushed him back, a little bit further this time, and shot him a pleading look. No, England couldn't go, the look of hunger in America's eyes was too much, it left him curious to what left him this way. It was definitely not magic, or not the kind England knew of. It was just, questionable. America's husky voice whispered out, "Don't blame me, Arthur." The next thing England, Arthur, knew the American who had been standing 2 meters away was right next to him, his shadow overpowering him.
"I'm sorry." America, Alfred, whispered in his ear. There was a sudden jolt of pain on his neck, pain that morphed to pleasure, sending jolts down the smaller nation's spine. He was able to crane his neck to see American's head at the source of his pleasure. It was almost like a dose of pure ecstasy coursing through his body, surely Alfred must be injecting something. His body started to go maniac, wanting to touch any part of Alfred, rubbing his fingers down the stronger man's build. Like a dose of anything, the withdrawal was the worst part, it left him feeling light headed and lacking something. Arthur reached out to grab Alfred, only to find that his counterpart was missing. He slowly turned around, seeing Alfred behind him, and he saw him shake his golden blond hair side to side, shaking his head. "I shouldn't of done that." He took a step back, but Arthur wasn't going to let him get away anytime soon or at all. Arthur's mind was screaming at him to not go to Alfred but the irrational, physical part of him wanted Alfred more than anything. It was like a chemical attraction. "What did you inject into my system?" Arthur barely managed to keep his cool, his conflicting mind lost in the midst. The American shook his head again, slowly saying, "I didn't inject anything." "Then what the bloody hell did you do, love?" Arthur's eyes widened as he noticed what he said and clamped a hand around his mouth, but not as much as Alfred's eyes did, shocked at hearing the British pet name. "Shit. Seriously, shit." Alfred was stuck in almost-disbelief as heard the effects of what he just did. Arthur enjoyed that? "What did you do Al-" He clamped his hand around his mouth not wanting to hear what would come out as he demanded an answer again. "I'll tell you on one condition, stop clamping your hand over your mouth, I want to hear what that sexy mouth of yours has to say." Arthur blushed a little (Not that much!) and quickly nodded his head. "Sure, Alfie."
Alfred grabbed a chair and motioned for Arthur to sit down. "It started during my isolationism, well, I'll tell you the story later. I was into voodoo at the time, and Leska used that against me to uh, change me." Arthur was still confused, confused as the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland could ever be, which was pretty confused. "Bloody hell, Alfie, tell me what happened!" "Just promise you won't faint on me K, Artie?" Apparently he nodded and Alfred continued, "I'm a vampire." He opened his mouth to reveal two fangs, about 3 centimeters long.
TO BE CONTINUED
[I hope]