The ritual was complete. America stared at the red string puling away at an odd angle from his pinky. He looked at England. His heart ached as he saw that his lover's string went at an equal and exact opposite direction. His heart throbbed. We're not meant to be together?
England sniffled and sighed. His heart heavy. "I guess this was a mistake."
All America could do was nod. He hated the idea of England not being his, but the red pinky string knows all. Well at least who you're meant to be with. The sharp angle away from him clearly showed that England wasn't the one.
England looked away and sighed again, his happiness flying away with every breath. "So… Now what?"
American shrugged. Then he wondered if maybe something had happened. Did they do the ritual wrong? No they had followed it exactly. How could their strings not meet to each other.
"Maybe if we follow them-." England began. "We can find true happiness."
America wanted to object, but his voice was silenced by reason. England and him did fight a fair deal. They had a lot of differences and things never seemed to work out well between them.
England sighed and looked up at him. "Are you going to say anything?"
"Anything." America retorted softly. England shook his head. Not amused.
"That's just great. We find out that we're not meant to be and you crack jokes." England sighed in disbelief. "This is serious, America."
"I know!" America snapped. "You always think I'm so naïve and so immature and stupid just because you're older! I get it England, you're all superior!"
England rolled his eyes. "That's not what I meant."
America shook his head. "Yea let's follow our strings and see who we're supposed to be with."
England stayed silent. He didn't speak. America glanced at him and turned away from him in a huff. America had found a ritual to show the red pinky string of fate and wanted to see if England was on the other end. He knew it was a risky gamble; love and emotions on the line, but he had still wanted to do it. Now his heart was sinking.
He grabbed the string and started following it. He didn't turn around he just followed it. He didn't know it England was doing the same, but all he knew was that he was gonna follow the string to the end….
Twisting and turning around mountains and trees and castles. Sailing over oceans and through volcanoes. He had followed the string and every twist and turn it brought. Past India, Southern Africa, Honk Kong, and some states. He followed the red string. The farther America went from England the deeper his heart sank. He missed him terribly and wanted to turn back and run to him, but knew he would get lost and never be able to find love again.
England sat there sighing. He had watched America disappear. He waited to see what would happen. He wasn't sure where America had gone, but he knew he was far away. For although he didn't know the exact time his lover, ex-lover, had been gone, he knew it had been awhile.
The string on his pinky moved and he knew whoever was on the other end was pulling it along with him. He sighed and ignored it, wondering where America was. Maybe sailing across the Delaware? Island Hopping in the Pacific? He had no clue and was beginning to worry.
He felt the tugging on the string cease and heard a soft gasp. England turned around and saw America standing there, a wound of string in his hand. One end connected to his pinky the other twisting through the mound onto England's pinky. England stared at the sight for a moment and gave America a crooked smile. The roll of string fell from America's hands. Tear fell from the young man's eyes and he ran into England's arms.
England held onto the younger man and kissed him senseless. "Stupid boy." He whispered playfully. "You left before I could finish what I was going to say. It wouldn't have mattered if the string didn't lead back to me. I would love you with all my heart no matter what."