So this story was supposed to be something completely different, but as I was writing, It just kind of morphed into... this. This is my first actual USUK oneshot (besides the songmeme, but that doesnt count), and is my second story in my goal. What is my goal? To write 365 oneshots (about Hetalia) this year. (and that's not counting, like, actual stories. Just oneshots). So hopefully I will be uploading at least one or two more today. But anyway, enough with my rambling. Please read, review, and have a cookie!
Disclaimer: Hetalia is not mine. If it was I'd lock myself in a room with Francis foreeeeeever ;)
Arthur Kirkland sat comfortably on his couch surrounded by pillows, reading his book and thoroughly enjoying his peaceful, relaxing, quiet- oh wait? Why was it so quiet? He bolted upright from his seat in horror. Where had America gone?
This was bad. Very, very bad. He couldn't leave America alone in his house- that would be a big mistake. The last time he had- oh Dear. He shuddered. The things that had been broken.
Quickly, he ran through his house, opening every door with a bang, frantically searching. Oh where could the delinquent have gone to?
"America!" he shouted, trying to keep the worry out of his voice. It would do no good for the boy to see how distressed he was. After all, he was still young.
After racing up the stairs and through the impossibly large mansion, England realized that America was, well, nowhere to be found.
With a distressed sound, he sat back down on his couch and began to sip his now cool tea with disgust. But he was really worried. If America wasn't in the house… where was he? Had he gotten hurt? Oh, heavens forbid he decide to sneak out and explore London and gotten lost…
England's worry was interrupted by the sounds of footsteps clomping up the stairway into the house. He sat up quickly and hardened his expression; it would not do for the Empire of Great Britain to look worried, of all things.
The door opened quietly after three knocks, and England rose quickly to await his visitor, who was none other than… America? So he had been right! America had snuck out. His expression changed to a stern disappointment as he strode over to the very caught little boy.
"Alfred F. Jones" the boy jumped and whirled around at the sound of his full name. He looked scared, as if he had been trying to sneak up to his room without England seeing.
"Yes… um...England... sir?" The youngster stammered out. England repressed the twitch of a smile that tried to break free on his stern and angry face. The young lad only called him 'sir' when he'd done something wrong. Nevertheless, England had to play the part of the punitive older brother, and without one crack in his mask, he confronted his wayward colony.
"You realize that I was extremely worried about you, yes?" He began, staring him straight in the eyes. America's began to water with regret or fear, he could not tell.
"Yes," America said, already beginning to sniffle. England felt his heart beginning to melt as he had already realized he could no longer be angry with him until America snapped his eyes back up and glared.
"But, but I can do whatever I want, Engwand! Because I grew two inches already" he declared defiantly.
Urg. England knew it wouldn't end so fast. One thing was certain, he was not going to go easy on the youth today.
England just narrowed his eyes crossly at the boy and grabbed his arm, and ignoring his protests, dragged him up the stairs to the little boy's room, kicking the door shut behind them and giving him a sharp smack on the arse to stop his infernal kicking, then dropping him unceremoniously on the bed.
America still had that enraging and insufferable defiance plastered all over his face, but at least he betrayed some newfound fear in his eyes.
"Well," England thundered "Do you have anything to say for yourself? Because you know what's coming next, so choose your words carefully." He stopped for a minute to glare at the still unrelenting child, and then continued in his lecture "And you know? Maybe I shouldn't bring you to London. I don't think you deserve it! Maybe I'll just leave you in the colonies, hm? How would you like that?"
England stared sternly down at America, watching curiously as the boy's façade of determination and independence began to crumble and was soon replaced with a young and terrified face. Suddenly, he began sobbing as his blue eyes gushed tears and he threw himself at England, wrapping himself around him as if that would protect him from the punishment that was ahead of him. "Don't send me away! I'm soooorrrrrrrry, so sooooorrrrrrry!" he wailed, over and over in big wreaking sobs that soaked through England's doublet and into his shirt.
England sighed and sat down on the bed, all the while stroking Americas head with his head and telling him to "shush love, it'll all be alright" as he rolled his eyes. America could be so dramatic sometimes, but still. He somehow had no problem smacking the boy's arse till he shouted bloody murder, especially when he was this outright defiant, but when America got into this helpless state? He just couldn't. Even though it was probably bad in the long run, he just couldn't bring himself to go through with punishing the boy when he was this distraught and oh so sorry for what he'd done.
He looked down as America lifted his tearstained face from England's chest and stared into his eyes, still sniffling. "A-a-are y-you still gonna, y-you know?" He trembled. "Give me a whoopin'?" He burst into tears again at the mere thought of it and again stuck his head into England's coat.
"Oh, my silly little git" England sighed, and held him closer. "I suppose I'm feeling lenient tonight, so I guess I'll let you off the hook for now. But if I ever-" England took America's chin in his hand and lifted it up to stare straight into his eyes- "and I mean, ever, do anything like that again, you won't be able to sit for a week, and that's a promise" America just gulped and nodded seriously, wide blue orbs fixed on England.
"So" England said, pulling America off his lap and pulling back the covers, "I think it's high time you went to bed. I was going to let you play with your toy soldiers till eight and then read you a story, but I think because you've been so naughty, we're going to skip it" England raised a large bushy eyebrow at America and then offered lightly "unless you'd rather have that whoopin"
America just shrank into the bed and shook his head quickly. England laughed and ruffled his hair, covering him up with the blankets and turning to leave the room.
"Wait!" he heard America yell desperately. "Come back!"
England turned back around. "What do you need, child. You know I'm not going to read you a story, not after today's behavior"
America began to fidget and looked away. "Can you just," he began quietly "Stay with me?" He looked at England with such sad blue eyes, he found it impossible to resist, and after a few seconds of internal war, his heart melted and he sighed and walked over to the bed and sat down. He reached down and pushed that one unruly piece of hair out of the boy's face.
"Engwand?" The boy began, "um, when I was gone today, you know?"
England just nodded his head for him to continue.
"I was thinking of you, so I got you… these" America stuck his hand in his pocket, and pulled out two wilting flowers, and thrust them in England's face, then promptly blushed and turned his head away.
England felt his heart swell up in love. He leaned down to kiss America on his brow, and took the two flowers gently. "I'm going to press these flowers into my favorite book, because they're from you. And that way I'll have them forever."
"Forever?" America's eyes were wide at the prospect of infinite time, a concept he had just learned and could nowhere near grasp.
England just smiled, and chuckled lightly. "Yes, forever, my boy. And you know what else is forever?" He leaned down and whispered in America's ear, "I'll love you forever"
America just giggled and reached up to hug England's head. "I'll love you forever too- and even longer than that. I promise!"