America crossed his arms, he was irritated. He watched England chatting away with France as France made subtle movements just so he could touch the country. "Don't they usually hate each other?" America thought to myself.
England, though usually was able to tell when France was making moves on him, was completely and utterly oblivious. It pissed America off beyond belief. He wanted England to talk that friendly with him! Not some pervy, frenchie bastard. France moved his hand towards England's lower back.
"Oh that's it." America clenched his fists, he marched towards the two. "Hello, Iggy. France."
"Hello, Amerique."
"So what're you two talking about?"
"Oh just the last meeting." England replied to him. France noticed as America glared him. That might be his cue to leave before America beats his ass.
"Sorry, mon cher. I have to go." France ran off before England asked him why.
"God damn it, America."
"What?"
"I saw what you were doing. Intimating France like that." England crossed his arms.
America groaned, "So what? He was totally making moves on you!"
"America, I know that."
"You do?"
"I'm not completely oblivious," England rolled his eyes, "My boss told me I have to stop fighting with France so often so it lead to my conversation with him."
"Oh."
"Yeah, seriously, America. I can handle myself. You need to calm down."
"I am calm. I am nothing but calm all the time." America stated.
"No you're not. You're fifteen seconds away from starting a fight at all times."
"I so am not! I'll show I can be the calmest fucking person on the planet."
England sighed, "You're hopeless..." England started to walk away.
"Hey, come on, don't be like that, Iggy!"
"Doesn't sound very calm, America."
"Okay we seriously need to establish some rules here."