Chapter 1
A Test of Fate
Why must fate always play me a trick card? Lead me in the wrong direction; the wrong path? I ask myself this often, as it just seems that no matter what I do, I can't change my luck. Either I'm losing my battles, losing my loved ones, or just plain losing my mind. Truly, what more could you expect from an island Country? England, to be precise. I've never been the most popular among the others, likely to do with my... Unique personality. Yes, I can be a bit eccentric at times, but that doesn't make me a bad guy, does it..? Well, I suppose it doesn't matter anyhow; I am who I am, and I'm not willing to change for the likes of anyone, not even him. Who, you ask? Why that bloody bastard of a Frenchman, Francis. Why must he insist on being such an absolute pest all the time? Showing up whenever I'd rather not see him, which is all the time, or just going out of his way to be a complete and utter git. Oh yes, he tries to reel you in with that smooth accent of his, or those ocean-blue eyes, but it doesn't work on me. No, not ever, nor will it in all my exist-!
"Yo, England! Didn't you hear me? It's your turn, bro." My thoughts, or perhaps ranting, was abruptly cut off by America. How had I so easily forgotten I was in a meeting? Clearing my throat, indeed now a bit embarrassed, I responded.
"Of course I heard you! I'll speak when I'm good and damn ready." Though my tone held asperity, more than anything, it was due to my fluster. What exactly was I to talk about? Nothing very interesting had occured lately. And, what had was nothing I'd likely feel comfortable to discuss in front of the entire world, so to speak.
"In truth, there hasn't been a lot going on in my country as of late, so... That's all." I quickly finished my turn, not in the mood to fish around my mind for stupid events that would be forgotten by the others before the next Country even spoke.
The meeting went by absolutely lazily. I swear I could count the individual seconds tick away on the clock that hung across from me on the large room's wall. But, to my and undoubtedly many of the other Countries relief, it was finally concluded by a certain almost unhealthily exuberant American.
"Thank God it's finally over..." I mumbled mostly to myself, though characteristically, France overheard my quiet words.
"Aw, come'on Arthur, it wasn't that bad~ You were able to sit next to moi that whole time; surely that eased your boredom." With a playful smile and that oh so charmingly annoying tone of his, he poked fun at me, which only caused me to feel all the more bitter towards him.
"N-not at all! If fact, it made me all the more eager to leave." My eyes narrowed ever so slightly as I glared at the older blonde, my tone having carried a hiss to it. But, however much I tried to insult him, he only seemed to smile more.
"Just keep telling yourself that, mon petite chaton~" He chimed in a purr, accompanied by a wink. At both his actions and his words, I felt my face heat up in the tell-tale sign of a serious blush.
"S-shut up!" Was my rather lame reply, but really, what else was I to say? If I denied it, he'd only continue to tease. His response was a light shrug, and a soft chuckle, only irking me all the more.
"Très bien... But, I wanted to let you know that I'll be stopping off at your house later this week. I hope you don't mind." My initial response was the perplexed expression I could feel spreading across my face without my permission. He was actually telling me he was planning a visit? But why..?
"No... I mean, yes, I do! Why the hell are you even asking?!" Furrowing my brows, I sent a second searing glare his way, only to be returned with yet another broad smile.
"No reason, I suppose... Expect me at your house, Angleterre~" With a final small laugh, likely because of my obviously confused expression, he exited the meeting room, leaving me to puzzle over why I was even the tiniest bit happy.