The Count
"1…2…3…"
Romania was hunched over the ground picking up grains of rice singularly. England rounds the corner carrying the paperwork from their previous world meeting. He nearly walks past just to fall short and do a double take on what he is seeing.
"Romania, what are you doing?" he says lifting an eyebrow at the odd scene of his colleague.
"What does it look like I'm doing? Counting rice!" Romania emphasized with gesturing over the spilt rice.
"Yes, I see that. But, why?" clearly not amused.
"Well, I have this thing where if someone tosses rice, or other things, I have to count them. It's called… It's called…" He sat up and started thinking hard.
"Arithromania." Ridiculously large eyebrow still raised high.
"Yeah! That! Such a pain to say."
"Um-hum."
"So… I'm just going to get back to my rice counting." Romania spoke leaning back down to his rice.
"Oh Romania" Romania lifted his head toward England, still cradling the rice in his palm.
"You will need to restart counting."
"What do you-" And England lightly kicked the hand holing the grains, just enough to send the grains flying.
"NNNNNOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!"
England walked away to finish his tall pile of paperwork.
I don't own Hetalia or these characters just putting my ideas out there.
Please constructive criticism and this is my first story.