"Put it down, Nat!"
"You put yours down first, psich."
Dammit, Alfred thought. She's pissed! Still, he held his gun firmly, aware of the dangers of fights with Belarus.
"Look, I don't mean any harm, 'kay?"
"That's about as ridiculous as me saying I don't mean harm. I always mean harm."
An eyebrow raised and a cocky smirk, she stood suspended in a lunge her freshly sharpened knife held in her gloved hand.
"Dude, you've gotta stop trying to murder every time I say something."
"Sumlienna, I love you, but it is hard to when you give me so many reasons to hate you."
"Same here, sunshine."
These type of fights were daily occurrences for the pair, especially since they started living together. Sometimes arguments would last for days, because both of them were headstrong and refused to admit that either one of them were wrong. But that's what kept their relationship interesting, right? Right.
"C'mon, honey, you know you wanna come right over here and kiss me."
"Just because I want to doesn't mean I have to, America."
"How many times do I have to tell you to call me Alfred?"
"As many times as you want to, darahi."
Belarus did want to kiss him desperately, but not as bad as usual. She was improving.
"Aw, don't say it like that. It makes me sound like an idiot."
"You are an idiot."
"As you remind me every day."
America lowered his gun, but held it at his side, as a sign of cease fire. "Babe, I don't wanna fight," he whined and pouted. Belarus crossed her arms and narrowed her eyes. "Fine," she lightly tossed her knife on the table. "But that is the last and only time you beat me at Mortal Kombat."