It's all my fault really . . . I knew something wasn't right . . . You were so different today, but I didn't think, I . . . I did nothing . . . nothing at all . . . You fell Britain . . . . You fell so hard . . . .
8:10 A.M
We were all schedule for a world meeting today. I was out in the hallway drinking some Pepsi, when I saw Britain arrive. He was fixing his tie and was mumbling under his breath, as he passed by.
He looked like he didn't get much sleep last night, his hair was a mess. Then again, when wasn't it? I smirked.
"Stayed up all night, talking to your "friends", again Britain?"
He simply ignored me and rushed into the conference room.
I shrugged and walked over to the vending machine to grab a snack.
8:23 A.M
The topic today was revelations of the past, and how we could prevent it from happening again.
Suggestions were cast from everywhere, earning some agreements and objections.
I looked over at Britain, bored, to notice he seemed more paler in complexion today. Probably because he never leaves his house . . .
"And what about you Amerique, how would you prevent another Revolution from happening?"
I blinked. I didn't expect that question.
"Uh . . well," I coughed. "Lowering taxes, and giving the people freedom to speak, and to have a representative in government is kinda handy." I chuckled slightly. Some agreed while others argued over my statement. I just laid back against my chair, glad that I was out of the discussion.
"I disagree."
That voice . . .
I looked at Britain to see his eyes glossy.
"To begin with, the people shouldn't have revolted in the first place."
I frowned.
"Their kinsmen have done everything from their part to protect them, to raise them, to guide them through their struggles. As a result, a revolution shouldn't even been acknowledge."
I glared at him.
His eyes were kindle with that same fire.
"Well how did that work out for ya Britain? Because last time I checked, I'm the United states, not the thirteen colonies."
He grimaced.
"Because of a revolution, my people found freedom, that you wouldn't give. And in the end, I've won the greatest honor of all."
Britain raise a handkerchief up to his mouth.
"Independence."
He coughed.
His eyes closed, and reopened again.
"That is well said and done America, but may I ask you this?"
His eyes held mine.
"Was it worth it?"
His eyes . . . .
Just like that day.
It was raining. I held my gun in a shooting positioned ready to fire at the man before me, if he ever so move.
His red coat torn from battles and soaked from the rain, his boots covered in mud. His expression . . . hurt.
I shouted out through the rain, telling him I was no longer his little brother.
His eyes, full of confusion soon turned into anger and he charged at me. I was frozen in shock and soon my gun was flying.
The metal point was close to my chest, he could easily take me out in one blow. But he didn't.
He fell to the ground. His gun to the side, out of reach. The rain poured harder, as he covered his eyes.
I had won Independence and Britain had fallen. . .
I snapped out of my memory to see everyone leaving. I guess, it was break.
9:30 A.M
I took a sip from my third cup of coffee this morning. My mind was filled with thoughts about Britain. Today he was acting more stranger than usual, and I don't mean his practicing on dark "magic" usual. He was quiet and didn't once and let me repeat once, argued with France. He just sat there, and when the revolution was brought up his eyes weren't full of anger and resentfulness but defeat and emotionless.
It was like, he wasn't even here, like he wasn't even breathing . . .
I shook my head of these thoughts and began to finish my coffee, when I saw Britain walking around the corner.
He was muttering loud enough, so I caught some words like "Bloody" and "I knew it".
He was looking at his handkerchief and before he rounded the corner I notice a small patch of pink.
I was curious. Did Britain stain his handkerchief?
10:34 A.M
In one hour, We the nations and all our glory, had accomplished nothing. I sat in my seat unamused, sometimes arguing with others about the debt I own them, when finally China announced he had a speech.
Through the past twenty minutes of China's speech, I looked over to notice that Britain wasn't in his seat.
I was surprised. Britain always stayed at meetings, no exceptions, it was improper not to be here. Yet, he wasn't . . did he ditch? I smiled at the idea, but then . . where could he be?
I stood up from my chair and headed over to the door.
"Where are you going?" I tensed until I realized it was my brother Canadia.
"I'm going to look for Britain."
He said something but I didn't hear him as I walked out into the hallway. I wondered down a bit and turned around the corner to passed by one of the bathrooms, to hear someone throwing up inside. I stopped and knock.
"Hey buddy, you okay in there."
The person stopped, and it became silent. I twisted the knob, for it to be locked.
"A-America."
No way.
"Britain?"
There was some movement inside.
"Why are you not at the meeting America." He tried to scorn me, but his words only shook.
I could hear a faucet being turned on with water rushing out of it.
"I came looking for you, you weren't there."
I tried the lock again, for the door to swing open.
He looked good for someone who jet threw up. His hair was tousled and his tie loose.
"Why would you come looking for me?"
I was thrown off for a second by how soft his voice was, before he had a displeased look on his face.
I couldn't speak. Why did I look for England? Last that I know, we weren't even that close.
"Well?" he asked.
"I-I was wor-going to invite you to go out to lunch with me." I replied.
Why did I say that!
He blinked, his face revealing a light blush.
"That's unexpected."
Tell me about it.
12 : 15 p.m
I tapped my foot impatiently, as I looked up at the clock. Britain was suppose to show up 5 minutes ago. Currently I was sitting in a small café where they sold tea, scones, and other pastry crap. I heard the bells on the doorway cling to reveal Britain. FINALLY.
He sat down in front of me, looking more weary than before. "Dude, where were you? I've been waiting for about-" Britain started coughing. "Dude, are you okay?" "I"m fine America, stop worrying." "I'm not worried!" The waitress showed up. "Can I take your order?" she had an Texas accent. Eh, my kind of woman.
I smiled. "Yeah, doll, can I get a strawberry parfait, with a crème milk to go with it." I winked.
Britain rolled his eyes.
"Sure." she giggled. "And you?"
Britain looked up and gave me a look, before smiling. "Yes, can I get a blueberry scone, and some Earl Grey tea."
My mouth almost dropped.
"Uh, s-sure." She finished and stumbled away her face practically red.
I look at Britain to see him looking out the window smirking.
"Britain . . . what the hell was that?"
He looked at me. "What is, what America." he continued smirking.
I glowered. "Don't play dumb Britain, you totally just played the "steal the hot waitress" card."
"I did nothing of the sorts, I simply told her my order."
A different waitress came and placed down our drinks, and food.
"Yeah, an order with a side of accent!"
He stirred his tea. "America, you're not 50 years old anymore, stop acting childish." He sipped his tea.
I rolled my eyes. "Whatever, old man." I took a bite out of my strawberry treat, angrily.
"Tch." he sat down his teacup. "Old man. What an abusive nickname."
"Oh please, I called you way worser things back then."
"So did I, weren't those just the good old days." he said sarcastically.
I glared at him, he glared back . . . then surprisely his face soften.
"Is that all we do America. . . fight, and blame each other for everything."
He covered his face, behind his hand. "It gets old quickly . . . doesn't it." He sighed. "I'm tired of it."
I was shocked by that statement. He looked up and gave a little smile.
"I see, your face still likes strawberry deserts."
What?
I took my finger, and wipe it across the side of my lip, and brought it in front of my vision to see pink whip crème.
A napkin was offered to me. I looked up at Britain and took it.
"Thanks." I said hesitantly.
He looked out the window.
"I remember that day, it was cloudy outside, just like today."
"Okay America, I have to got out to town to deliver some documents. Stay inside and don't open the door to anyone especially, that frog."
"Okay, Mr. Britain."
He was almost out the door, so I looked back to the kitchen.
"And, America."
I flinched. "Yes?"
He looked at me menacingly. "Don't eat that strawberry pie, until I get back." Then he was gone.
I stood there for a while, before walking into the parlor and sitting down to read a book.
Five minutes later, I placed the book down, and bit my bottom lip.
"America, America." The pie called my name.
I looked to the kitchen.
"America, America."
I looked at the front door and back to the kitchen.
Well, Britain said not to eat the pie, but that doesn't mean I can't look at it.
I got up and happily walked into the kitchen, and sat down on the stool.
I smelled it, and looked down as my tummy growl.
I looked at the pie.
. . . . . :]
He chuckled. "I came home, and found you asleep on the table with that strawberry pie all over your face." He glanced at me.
I shrugged. "If it's any constellation, it wasn't even that good." I smiled.
He shook his head and looked out the window again. It was sprinkling outside.
"Will you be taking that to go." The waitress from earlier came to our table, looking at Britain blushing.
"Yes, please." Britain flashed her a smile. She clumsily packed the scone into a small container.
I got out my wallet and paid the tab.
"Thank you, please come again."
We both stood up, Britain exited the door before me, coughing into his hand, I followed him out.
I looked up at the sky. Damn, I hope it doesn't rain. I looked back down, to see Britain shifting nervously.
I rubbed the back of my head. "So, I guess, . . I'll see you at the meeting?"
"Uh, Yes." He nodded.
"Okay, . . . I'll seen you then." I turned around and waved off. "Bye, Britain."
"Goodbye America."
I was a few steps away when I heard. "Thank you."
I turned around, to see Britain already gone.
Huh, guess it was my imagination. I continued walking down the sidewalk, whistling a familiar tune.
3:30 p.m
It was right after, when we finished talking about the countries death rates, that you started to cough.
"Britain-san, are you alright." I looked over to where Japan was, sitting next to you. I was on the other side of the table, sitting next to Germany, and Spain.
"I'm fine, Jap-" You coughed again, this time more loudly.
"Angleterre." France asked, touching your shoulder. You shrugged and waved him off revealing your glove's palm.
That's when I saw it. A red stained.
My eyes widened.
"I'm fine." You stated, but now you were coughing up a storm. Everyone stopped what they were doing and looked at you. I sat there stunned.
Blood.
That handkerchief from earlier, could it be . . .
You tried to cover your mouth but it was too late, it waseverywhere.
That you were coughing up blood, this whole time.
"Britain-san!"
"Angleterre!"
You stood, and shakily took three steps, before falling down.
There were shouts and papers flew, as I jumped over the table to get to you.
Red. It was all over you, when I came down next to you.
"Britain?" I asked.
You looked at me. "America." Coughing. Oh, God.
"Somebody, call an ambulance!"
I reached my hand towards you, but I couldn't touch you. The sight of YOU like this . . . I wanted to throw up.
"Amerique, do you know why Angleterre is like this!" France asked, as he held his phone to his ear. "Merde." {Damn}
"I d-don't know, he was fine when we had lunch."
His eyebrow perked up at this.
"Hello?" I could hear a feminine voice.
"Yes. Operator." France turned away.
I looked down as I felt your hand grabbed mine.
"I need to speak with the United Kingdoms parliament."
"A-America." You spoke weakly.
"Britain, . . . why didn't you tell me, this would happen!"
"I didn't want you, or anyone else to be bothered."
Lies.
"Bullshit! Britain, your just being selfish."
Selfish? Who's the selfish one here, you didn't even notice . . .
"I could have helped you Britain, I could have . . . "
Your hand came up to my cheek and brushed the tears away.
When did I start crying?
"Hush, love, it's not your fault." Love . . .
You smiled sadly at me. "America, promise me, you'll keep smiling."
Why didn't I notice?
"I couldn't bear the guilt if you didn't."
Why didn't I care?
"Britain, please, . . ."
"Goodbye, America." You smiled, as the light from your eyes slowly faded away. Your hand dropped, as if in slow motion, and landed down on the floor next to you.
". . . Britain?" A tear drop fell from your closed eyes . . . .
"Britain!" "A-America!" "Britain!" "America-san?!" "Britain!" "Amerique!" "BRITAIN!"
It no longer sprinkled . . . . it poured.
"B. R. I. T. I. A. N!"
Hello, this was one of the stories that I was working on. I'm proud of it. Please don't be afraid to review or ask me questions if your confused on some parts. Thank YOU for reading this. Thank you so much.
