Title: England's Storage Closet
Disclaimer: Hetalia is not my creation.
Pairing: America × England
Rating: PG-13
Summary: We all know about America's storage room, but what about England's?

Enjoy my new story!

"Bloody hell, Alfred!" A blonde nation yelled, his anger level rising seeing the taller, but younger nation.

Alfred F. Jones, a.k.a. The United States of America, just bursted into the shorter blonde nation's house. America had that million watt smile on his face, making a heroic pose. Wearing his imfamous bomber jacket with a white t-shirt under it and jeans.

"What's up, Artie?" Alfred exclaimed, standing in the doorway. Arthur, or England, grunted in anger. Well, at least the door didn't fall off this time...

"What do you want, idiot? And it's Arthur, you git!" England asked, coldly glaring at his former colony. The other sandy blonde nation kept his smile, simply walking to the agitated Brit. England didn't like the git in his doorway already and now he's in his bloody house.

"Why is it you ask me that every time I come over?" America's smile turning into a cocky smirk, answering the Brit's question with another question, making Arthur's intentions to hit the American bigger. Of course, leave it to Alfred to ruin a peaceful day in London.

Then, Arthur got an evil thought in his head. "Well, you have come the right time." He paused. "I was about to clean out my storage room."

Alfred's smirk instantly melted off his face, turning into a pout. "Artie! I didn't come to see old, dusty things like you..." The American whined. England scowled, whacking the other upside the head.

"How dare you! I am not old, wanker!" The island nation yelled, red-faced with anger. America let out his loud and annoying, to Arthur, laugh while rubbing the place where the other nation had recently hit him. Arthur walked to his stairs, closely followed by Alfred until they reached a old, slightly chipped, dusty, mahogany door. The sandy blonde started to pour again.

"I never agreed to this, Artie." Alfred said, crossing his arms over his chest. Arthur scoffed, putting his hand on the old doorknob. He was worried that it might break off, it was a little bit rusty. When he opened the door, a bunch of dust went flying in the two's faces, causing the two to cough.

After they were done coughing, Arthur gestured for his ally to enter the room. "N-No way, dude!" Alfred exclaimed. "It could be haunted in there!"

"It either this or we could have lunch first. Scones-." "In we go!" America was quick to enter the room. Anything is better than England's cooking, any day. The island nation went into the room after the taller nation.

There ya' go guys! The prologue was a little short and no USUK... YET! I wonder what Alfred and Arthur will find in England's storage closet? Til next time guys! See ya!

~Animelover2356