Present
Tic
Toc
Tic
Toc
Tic
Toc.
The First week
He was holding flowers when I opened the door, the usual World War two bomber jacket was on, with a plain white t-shirt underneath.
A pair of blue jeans, and a smile.
"Hey England."
I stared at the flowers, pure white, then looked at him.
"What are you doing here America, and why do you have those lilies?"
Then he surprised me, by wrapping his arms around my shoulders.
"I want to start over England."
I stood there shocked. The teacup that I was holding, slipped from my grip, to fall to the floor.
The Grandfather clock dong, signaling three o'clock in the afternoon.
Two weeks, we became good friends.
I would laughed at his idiotic actions, one being stuffing fries up his nose, but would scowled immensely as he ate one right after.
I would visit him to discuss for the meetings that would be held next month and in the end we would be playing video games, on America's behalf of course, or simply talk for hours.
Three weeks, we took care of each other.
When one of us needed a favor or notes from the occasional meeting, we would have each others back.
America was in a fight one day . . . some blokes were trying to rob a poor girl, until America happen to stumble upon them. I was caught off guard, when he appeared at my apartment door smiling, while blood ran down his forehead. He babbled on for fifteen minutes about the fight while I cleaned his wound.
"Honestly, your a reckless idiot, why couldn't you just called the authority." I dabbed the wound, for him to chuckled.
"The world needs reckless people, England, they don't think they just do." I placed a band-aid on to finish."With out them, who would we look up to."
I moved away to put the supplies back into the bathroom, amazed at his adult like behavior.
"Well don't get too careless, the world still needs their hero." I closed the door.
When I turned around, his smile became a grin.
"You said it."
Four weeks, we felt comfortable.
When we would watched television, he would lazily have his legs on my lap. When I would read, I would sometimes lay my head on his shoulder.
He even asked me to read out loud one day, I asked him why?
"I don't know, I just like it when you read. You know with your old man English." He shrugged.
"If you mean proper English, then yes."
I turned the page, slightly amused, for him to settle back casually.
We even opened up to each other.
"I'm afraid that, one day everybody is going to leave me." I looked up from the newspaper, "That I'll be the only one left, and . . . I'll no longer be needed."
Because of the terrible weather, America decided to stay overnight instead of flying back home.
He looked at me, his favorite reality T.v show no longer a point of interest. I was sitting in the armchair, at an angle from him, quite cozy but now the autmosphere had changed.
"I know I call myself a hero England, but am I really? Because half of the time I feel like a coward."
It was silent for a while . . .
"You want to know something America?" His eyes were still looking down."I'm afraid one day, that I'll disappear and no one will even care."
His eye widened.
"I mean who would, God knows how old I am. You all complain that I have tasteless food and see imaginary things. I haven't been the most outgoing person, I'm not Italy for christ sakes and I haven't been on good terms with my brothers for so long. . . I don't believe they would care if I was gone. I think for a fact, that they would celebrate my death." I looked up at the ceiling.
"Great Britain No More. It's sad how that title seems to fit perfectly."
The look in his eyes . . . something I haven't seen since he was a little boy.
"But I do know one thing America, is that you are needed in this World, and I nor anyone else, will ever leave you."
His eyes watered.
"Thanks England."I gave a reassuring smile, for time to be unfrozen. I went back to the "concerned" car cash of a family of circus dogs and him to his nonsense celebrities . . .
"I would miss you."
I almost didn't hear him.
I paused, to look for a sign of a reaction. . . a quick glimpse my way, was my answer. I put up a front, hiding behind the newspaper, with my mind reeling.
You said it.
Five weeks . . .
At the World Meeting, I hummed while making myself a cup of tea at the counter. I made sure to call America yesterday, to make sure he wouldn't forget his notes like last time. His response was "Quit naggin" and "You just wanted to call me, admit it". So I hung up on him. The twit.
Shaking my head, I added sugar for the bitter taste.
"Bonjour Angleterre."
Good god no.
"I've noticed you've been in a good mood lately, why is that, I wonder?"
France came up next to me, leaning against the counter.
"Maybe it's because you've been gone for the past meetings, hm?"
I closed my eyes as I sipped.
"Oh please you miss me every time . . . you and America seemed to have gotten pretty close no?"
I stayed nonchalant, to make my way over to my seat, France following.
"What happens between America and I has nothing to do with you."
I replied, sitting down.
"Ohonhonhon when it comes to love, it's does."
My teacup clink against it's plate.
"What are you implying."
He sat down on the table's surface, his hands held in a unarmed gesture.
"I'm just saying Angletere, that you've change these past weeks. Everyone notices you smile more often when America's around."
I glared at him."I don't know what your getting at, so what if I smile?"
I stared off into the other direction, to see out the window where the parking lot was. A red car pulled up, and America got out, trying to fix his tie.
When will that idiot learn to dress properly.
"There! That's what I mean." I looked at France.
"The look you get in your eyes when he's near! I haven't seen that since the days I would visit Canada over in your territory. Those eyes filled with compassion and hope." He placed a hand over his heart."It's touching."
"Your insane."
"Don't change the subject, you know it's true."
I scoffed."This conversation is over."
"You care for America."
I looked beyond him, to see said man walking down the hallway, his briefcase jammed with papers, many were sticking out.
"You need to tell him, before . . . are you even listening to me!"
"Loud and clear dish rag, now if you excuse me."
Standing up I left the table to make my way over to the entrance, France speaking in his fluent garbage after me which sadly I understood most of it.
"Romantics cannot deny their fate."
As America arrived, I leaned against the doorway, ready to leave the past behind.
"Hey England!"
Your going to blind someone with that smile someday.
Glancing up and down, his appearance was sloppy.
"You know the meeting starts at 8:30 not 8:20 right?" I asked.
"What! You've got to be kidding me!"
He went by fast, heading towards his seat. Apparently the garbage men had come by, because Francis was gone. Probably to torture that poor girl Seychelles. Or plan a coup against me with that brat Sealand.
He opened his suitcase, for papers to be scattered everywhere.
"America do you even know what the word 'organize' means?"
"I thought I didn't have enough time, so I just shoved it in there!"
I shook my head playfully tsking.
"And dressed unproperly in the morning too, that's going on your record lad."
"I was in a rush, okay, everyone can't be perfect like you England."
Sarcastically he spoke.
"Your lucky I'm not offended, now turn around."
He did, irritation written all over his face. I reached for his tie and fixed it for him.
"England." He complained.
I ignored him and soon finished.
"There."
Looking up, there were some crumbs on the side of his mouth, so without thinking I used my thumb to wipe them away, for America to grab my hand.
"Thanks babe, but that's for later."
I blushed furiously, to pull my hand back.
"Oh shut up, I was doing you a favor of not looking like an child!"
"Well, think of it as payback for pulling on my nantucket on Tuesday!"
Sticking out his tong like a two year old, he went off to get some coffee.
It's not my fault that the lad's curl is sensitive.
What happened that Tuesday . . .
"Yeah, Prussia can you cover my back, watch out! Man that was close dude!"
As usual when I visit America's house, he's playing a game with 'friends'. Of course, I don't really care. Until I noticed from his excitement, the colic that always bounced with his movements. When he was younger he would always tell me to be very careful of it when I brushed his hair. He said it made him feel funny, why was that?
Ignoring the current book I was reading, I slowly made my way over to America. Quietly, as I was the master of stealth.
"Yeah Japan, that was a pretty awesome run, we should do that again."
I was behind America now, and reached for it.
"No, Prussia, were not going to-"
I pulled it.
"ALFGJEBKEBJKSF!"
America flipped out and fell over.
"America are you alright!"
Prussia's voice was shouting out of the ear piece. I had both of my hands covering my mouth, holding in laughter as I tried to back away slowly, his gaze on me.
"England did you just pull?"
His face turned all red, for my stomach to twist with glee, so I had to sit down.
He grabbed his earpiece to put it back in, clearly shocked.
"Y-yeah, Prussia I'm fine, just give me a minute will ya."
Pausing the game, I was given a cold hard stare.
"What the hell dude, why you pullin nantucket!"
I burst out with laughter, even some tears falling.
"It's not funny!"
"What was that?"
I wiped a tear away, as I tried to breathe normally.
"It's . . sensitive okay? Just don't pull it."
He was clearly embarrassed.
"Sorry."
"Yah right."
He turned around, disturbed, but I thought it was adorable. Just like a kid to pout when something bad happened to him.
"Hey guys, I'm back. . . nah, just a doosh of a bird smacked into my window, so it caught me off guard."
I settled back, the book no longer interesting.
Back to the meeting.
"Hey England."
Returning to reality, I was still sitting on top of the table with my legs crossed and my hands resting on the table's surface.
I looked over at America to see a cup of coffee, already in his hand.
"Yes?" I asked.
"Your, uh, kinda sitting on my papers."
"Oh?" I got off the table. He grabbed the papers and put them into a folder.
"There still warm." He joked, and took a sip. I blushed again. How long have I been just sitting there?
I coughed.
"Well, everyone seems to be showing up now, so I'll leave you to prepare."
I turn and began to walk away towards my seat. I had a few things to review myself.
Meeting.
"Alright everyone!" Germany announced. "This World Meeting begins, and no Italy you cannot have Pasta!"
"Ve, I was just going to say that your fly is down!"
There were some chuckles around the table as Germany turned around and zipped up his pants.
"That's my bruder, getting last minute action Kessesse."
The room began to unfold into conversation.
I sipped my tea, it was a bit cold by now.
"Well that's one way to start a meeting."
I checked America to meet his eyes. Letting out a long whistle, he shared the feeling. I smiled, to check on my topics again. I needed to discuss with the southern countries and a bit of the Nordics. Denmark seemed to not be too busy, unless he was telling a dramatic story right now? I couldn't tell. There was extreme hand gestures, Iceland had just brought out his phone to check something, and there he goes. Norway smacked down the poor fellow. We shared a look of recognition.
Never mind, southern countries it is then.
Half way in my conversation . . .
"I agree, this is an issue - "
"Hey guys!"
America came over.
"Mind if I cut in?"
"Actually yes-"
"Great, what's on the agenda?"
"YOU can't possibly be done with your work?"
"Yep."
America kicked back, to put his feet on the table.
"What's up?" He eyed the other country.
"We can discuss another time. Thank you for your consideration England. My boss will be pleased."
"Of course, thank you for a chance to discuss."
We shook hands, for him to leave.
Thus America had my attention.
"Let's go out to eat. My treat."
Over a month . . . I didn't realize how much we connected . . . until he reached for my hand as we walked back from break.
The small talk we shared, my laughter and his.
The stupid frog might have had a good point.
I was happy.
Present
"England please."
He was begging.
"America, you know it's the right thing to do, so please . . ."
"England, no."
As crazy as this sounds . . . once we arrived in the hallway, men in gasmasks attacked us, and with enough force, we blacked out.
Wokened up by America's lazy hits against a metal door, another sound had caught my attention.
A ticking bomb in the other room.
Even though the drugs they gave him paralyzed his legs which would eventually consume his whole body, America wouldn't stop.
"We don't negotiate with criminals!"
The scenario was simple. Really.
One of us could live, as the men stated, but the other had to be the leverage.
But time was ticking away.
This room can be sealed off so that no one can be injured.
While the other one, was sacrificed if things escalated to that degree.
Obviously the choice . . . came naturally.
Standing up, I went over into the other room.
"What are you-"
And I preceded to shut the heavy door in which America retaliated fierciously.
"Sorry love, it's the right choice. You can't even stand. So suck it up for now."
"Are you fuckin kiddin me?!"
He tried to crawl over, but with brute strength, I managed to seal the entrance.
Now we were in separate rooms, no turning back now.
"England! England! Dammit, why didn't you talk to me! You know I can take a hit!"
"Think of it like this. If your the one to survive, then things will be settled. They'll be justice. But if I lost you . . . I don't even want to consider that option."
"How do you think I feel?"
Placing my forehead against the wall I sighed.
"I don't know. America . . . I'm glad that we caught up on things. You made this old man happy."
Silence prevailed for the comment to be weak. Vulnerable.
"Why are you saying goodbye."
"Because . . .it's for the best."
"Bullshit."
I knew I was hurting him.
"You said that you felt like a coward, but you never were. Ive been the one cowardly for all these years with my feelings. I thought . . . once you moved on, that I could move on too. But the truth is, I never forgot you America. How could I?"
These silly words seemed to just pour out.
"Your eyes resemble the sky, your heart of the land, and the voice of the sea. You beckon to me sweet bittter siren, that I've always known to be agony and defeat. A mighty empire I once was, crumbled down, and sent to my knees all because of the words you speak . . . if this is my final farewell. Let thee know, I love you."
Why is it, that when our hands finally touched, that our story must end in tragedy?
"England, please."
He was begging.
"America, you know it's the right thing to do, so please . . ."
"England, no."
"Please don't weep, smile. Smile for me again America."
"England."
Carefully I left his side for the final time, to approach this mechanism of destruction
.
.
We had an hour left
.
.
I sung to him, wanting to ease his worry into sleep
.
.
Near the dead line, I knew he was in a better place now
.
.
So with that peaceful resolution.
Tic
Toc
Tic
Toc
Tic
Toc.