Ⓒⓗⓐⓟⓣⓔⓡ ➁
ⒶⒻⒶⒾⓀ
"Mom, salt."
"Where are your manners, sweetie-cakes?"
"…Pretty please?"
Alfred snatched the salt from his mother's hands and began gingerly sprinkling his dinner with it. He then set the salt shaker down and resumed to eating. Normally, dinner was a sanctuary for his ever-growing pains and troubles, but this time, it felt as if the quiet atmosphere was doing more bad than good for the American. It made his thoughts run around in circles rapidly-almost dizzyingly-not want to stop. Like perpetual motion. And Alfred just could not live under the stress of such deep musings.
Only after the first day of school in England, and his usual calm thoughts were branching out into unknown territory, a silky string of intricate thoughts randomly interwoven together to form a messed-up and insufficient web. What his thoughts have been frequently edging towards more often than naught, however, was Arthur's obvious resentment for him. How come the British boy already seemed like he absolutely loathed Alfred even though they have not even introduced themselves to each other? It seemed unfair, yet considering what his best friend Matthew had said during lunch, he actually found a rather feasible answer to why.
Matthew did mention his "younger brother" Arthur hating on him, not wanting the Canadian to be part of his popular life. Alfred presumed that the Briton had an irrational hatred towards people of some sorts.
Though, the fact that he had a (very pretty) girlfriend was absolutely unfathomable. Who would want to be with some bushy-browed guy who took a strong disliking to mostly everyone he sets his little green eyes upon?
Then again, it might just be that Arthur hates males in general. That hypocrite.
The American let out a frustrated growl. Why would he even bother thinking about a guy who resented every single fiber of his proud American being? He should just shake it off, forget the arrogant British purebred ever existed, and continue on living school miserably.
Or maybe he could try being nice and become frie—
The blonde mentally smacked himself for having such idiotic thoughts, realizing that he had accidentally stabbed his dinner with brute anger. His parents stared awkwardly at him, as if he was an absolute madman, and as of now he was.
Sheepishly, the boy pushed his plate away and said he wasn't hungry anymore in the most convincing voice possible. Apparently, his parents seemed to have bought his little façade and was about to let him off scot-free when his father asked, "So, son, how was your first day of school?"
Alfred paused, hesitant on an answer. He then feigned a short smile, closing his eyes to drone out his contradicting musings. "Great. Just great."
➊ ➃ ➌
Green eyes continued to burn themselves incessantly on the side of the American's face. Another pair of eyes, too, though a peculiar shade of amber was glaring at him fervently. Alfred could only let out a short sigh, asking himself how he exactly managed to get two enemies already. Only on his second day of high school, even. He had always assumed that he was an affable guy. Maybe he would act like a jerk sometimes, but it's not like anyone in the entire world is absolutely flawless and untainted.
Slumping wearily into his seat again, the blonde began to fold his hands onto his lap and stared straight ahead, resisting all urges to glance anywhere else. The teacher's tedious droning on the matter of Revolutionary War kept the blonde slightly distracted, if for only a small fraction of a second. His mind, of course, diverted towards his Spaniard desk partner, who was currently nudging the American's ribs in an annoyingly aggravating manner.
"Read and pass it on," he whispered as quietly as possible. It might have proved to be almost inaudible if not for the fact that his mouth was extremely and uncomfortably close to Alfred's ear.
The American blushed at the close proximity of the Spaniard's lips, appalled that he would break into Alfred's precious bubble with such audacity. Nonetheless, the American grabbed the note and unwrapped it hastily, staring wide-eyed at the contents splayed out in front of him.
The writing was more or less legible, being a weird mixture of girly print and cursive. From what Alfred could make out, it was a note about the apparent latest rumor (already?) in George Stephenson High School. He began to read it aloud in his mind, with a rather professional-sounding voice despite the valley girl words:
Like, this is totes juicy: the cute Italian kid called like, Feliciano is apparently dating like, the hot and well-built Gilbo. They are like, the first official gay couple of GSHS. There's seriously gonna be like, a totes epic surprise party for them at lunch to like, celebrate their awesome bravery and stuff. Like, congratulate the new it couple whenever you like, see them down the hallways! Feliks, like, over and out.
Pass it on, seriously.
Alfred raised an eyebrow, but proceeded to complying with the command of passing it on, giving it as discreetly as possible to the person behind him. Fortunately, whoever was sitting behind him took the note without a word, leaving the American to muse on the matter. Once again, the subject of homosexuality was thrust upon him. No doubt the boy was confused beyond belief; was this common for people (in this school, at least) to celebrate the bonding of a pair of gay people?
Well, whatever… Alfred began fumbling childishly with his pencil, a bored expression on his face. Everything seemed to go by slowly—almost too slowly. And, unfortunately, that's how practically the rest of the classes went on. As slow as a turtle. As slow as molasses. As slow as the American's grandfather's walk down a flight of stairs.
Even after what seemed like hours, the bell still hadn't rung, and Alfred lowered his had as if unto a guillotine. The torturous rambles of history couldn't even prove to pique the American's interest long enough to make the class bearable. The glares he received on the other end of the classroom didn't even help in the matter.
Suddenly, he felt a soft poke on his head. He turned his head to the side to see the Spaniard smiling goofily at him, his brown orbs bubbling with flamboyant energy. Just when Alfred was about to mouth a peeved, "What?" at said Spaniard, he chuckled softly and again handed Alfred another note.
Sighing, the American took it and began reading its contents:
Oops, sorry, like, misprint. Feliciano is actually dating like, Ludwig. Totes cool, right?
Pass it on and like, forget about the whole Gilbo thing and stuff. Feliks, like, over and out.
Alfred almost found himself snorting at such a peculiar name. He knew that there were many a foreign and strange name in this world, but he couldn't exactly fathom how anyone could live with the name Gilbo. Nonetheless, the American proceeded to complying with the command once again, handing it secretly behind him. (Hey, he was becoming quite an expert with note passing.) Whoever was behind him took then note immediately, but this time the American felt a brush of skin on his hand.
Turning around curiously, he was shocked to find that it was the beautiful tanned girl who sat at his table just yesterday. She peered up at him and winked with flirtatious intent. Alfred blinked stupidly, but found himself absolutely melting at the charismatic display.
He couldn't even be bothered with the intensified glares stabbing onto his back.
➊ ➃ ➌
Despite the weirdness of it all, the Alfred had been expecting quite a commotion during lunch. All there was, however, was a small party in the back of the cafeteria, the new official "gay couple of George Stephenson High school" being showered with praises and attention and whatnot. Alfred had tried his best to avoid anything to relate himself with the partying freshmen in the corner and seated himself promptly at the same lunch table he and Matthew (and apparently, two other people) were sitting in yesterday. He was surprised to know that there was, however, a new person sitting next to them. Fortunately, he wasn't anywhere near the looks of the nasty Briton from yesterday. He looked… well, Asian.
Alfred gave a warm smile and waved, causing the fidgety Asian boy to blush. He, of course, waved back due to his proper aesthetics, bowing his head in a regal-like manner. "Konnichiwa," he said quietly, his voice a soothing serenade with undertones of mystery. Alfred quickly noted that the small boy was indeed Japanese. (After all, "konnichiwa" was one of the only few Japanese words he came to know.)
"Hey," Alfred said as politely as he could back, stealing a glance towards Matthew's direction.
The Canadian nodded his head, again as if he could read Alfred's mind, and explained, "This is my new mate, Kiku." He then moved back slightly and gestured towards both the American and the Japanese boy. "Kiku, Alfred. Alfred, Kiku." He moved his hands accordingly to their names.
Kiku, his face composed and stoic, bowed his hand again. "It is a pleasure to meet you, Alfred-san."
"Same with ya," Alfred said sheepishly. The American had little knowledge with honorifics, and he had never been called "Alfred-san" before. It felt a little awkward, yet at the same time he was somewhat happy.
Naturally, lunch continued quietly. Alfred didn't even attempt to even think about bringing up conversation until he realized that Matthew's (haughty) younger brother wasn't sitting with them today. The American scanned the cafeteria in spite of his reciprocating hatred for the Briton, and found that he was sitting with a rather large group of popular-looking people. Surprisingly enough, his girlfriend was sitting on the opposite end of the cafeteria, talking to a French guy. Arthur didn't even look the least bit angry. He actually looked relaxed.
Sheesh, what is up with him? Alfred asked himself mentally, taking an insanely rough bite out of his sandwich (oh, he had forgotten to bring money to buy his lunch today; oh well). He's so fucking annoying. All he does it wave around insults like it's nobody's business, hates on everyone upon a single glance, and he doesn't even give a shit about his own girlfriend.
Normally, Alfred wasn't the type to get too angry, and at someone he had just met. But everything Arthur is was beyond everything Alfred disliked. Even from their first meeting, Alfred could've already expected the Briton to be a supercilious kind of boy with a no-care attitude. Frankly, Alfred was pretty much right on the dot.
Just then, the American could feel a pair of fiery green eyes shoot towards his direction. His baby blues briefly met with them, and he found all his thoughts dissipating into a puddle of mush. The Briton was glaring at him again with intensified cholera. It was possibly one of the scariest and most intimidating stares Alfred had ever seen directed at him in all of his fifteen years of living. It would take a miracle to see to it that he could chance another fifteen more if this kept up.
Frantically, he returned his gaze to his own lunch table mates and realized the two were currently in quiet conversation amongst themselves. Alfred hadn't really thought about it before, but he quickly came to realize that the two were practically the same. Like Matthew, Kiku held a calm and relaxing composure, and they were both extremely quiet when it came to strangers. It felt as if Kiku should have been Matthew's brother instead of Arth—
Yeah, he wasn't going to think about him. He wasn't going to think about him. He wasn't going to fucking think about that bastard.
"Hey, you know what I just realized?" enquired the blonde American, his cheeky grin etching onto his face. The two quiet boys beside him gave him a look of confusion, cocking their heads to the side to signify their bewilderment. The grin grew even wider as he spontaneously stated, "You guys are kinda like twins!"
"Eh?" Matthew squeaked, his mind addled by the American's sudden insinuation. "What do you mean by that, Alfred?"
"Yes, Alfred-san," the Japanese boy agreed in a flustered manner. "I would very much like to have insight as to why you would say such things."
"Well, I mean, you guys kinda have the same personality and all. I just think it's kinda funny."
The two quiet boys let out an "oh," as if realization just hit them. Even though it hadn't, for the American's logic was pretty out-of-the-ordinary for their comprehension. Nonetheless, the two presumed to chuckling forcedly alongside the guffawing American.
"S-so, anyway," Alfred finally said after a rather dragged-out laughing fit. "Do you guys wanna hang out after school? At that Starbucks down the street?"
Matthew sighed sadly. "I would love to, mate, but the family and I have important discussion hour after school today. Something about me and Arthur…"
"That sucks, dude," Alfred said with genuine empathy. Living with that bastard would have to be horrible for the poor Canadian, and the American was here complaining about how horrible his own life was. He felt sorry for his selfishness. Almost. "What 'bout you, Kiku?"
"I am free. Thank you for the invitation, Alfred-san."
The American's sparkly blue eyes brightened up in an instant. "Awesome!" He did a small fist-pump into the air, receiving a few weird looks from passersby as well as Matthew and Kiku. They ended up chuckling at their loud friend's happy-go-lucky attitude, looking at each other with relieved eyes. It looked as if they were sending mental messages at each other, but Alfred seemed to be oblivious to the little moment between his two quiet friends.
"Oh!" he suddenly interjected, fishing out a phone from his pockets and hid it under the table. I am such an awesome rebel, he mused proudly. "Can I have your numbers?"
The two boys nodded, proceeding to telling the American their phone numbers as said American typed with hurried speed on his touchpad. Finally, after he finished filling out the phone numbers and their respective names in each contact slot, the American nodded satisfactorily, pushing his phone back into his pocket. "I'll text ya guys, 'kay?"
The two nodded in response, then started finishing up the remnants of their lunch. Just in time, too, for the bell signaling the end of the lunch period rang defiantly through everyone's ears. A scramble of students began throwing away their scraps into the nearest trash can (some of them missing by just a few inches). Alfred, out of sudden politeness, told his two new best friends that he would throw away their lunches for them. Kiku bowed his head and thanked the American thoughtfully, praising him as if he was an all-powerful being. Matthew just smiled, and said nothing, that troubled expression resurfacing his face.
Alfred's suspicions began to grow even more at this; what exactly was the quiet Canadian hiding from him? What exactly was making Matthew become all anxious and worried all the time? The fact that the Canadian was quiet made it all the more harder to figure out. Alfred just could not read his mind at all.
Shrugging it off for now (he planned on asking Matthew directly if the problem persisted) the American made his way towards the nearest trash bin with three lunches in hand. He then threw them lamely into the bin and patted his hands with each other's, rushing off into the direction of the cafeteria's exit. However, he felt himself stopping in his tracks when he felt a burning sensation daggering onto his backside.
He turned around and almost yelped in surprise to find the nasty Briton glaring at him once again. Anxiety overtaking the American's very senses, he fumbled with his hands, shuffling his feet awkwardly. Arthur continued to glare.
"What's up with you?" Alfred asked timidly, his gaze falling to the floor. He felt his voice box detaching itself from inside him, proving his voice useless.
Meanwhile, the bushy-browed Briton stilled, not responding to Alfred's words. That was, until, he smirked suddenly and pushed the American to the side, stuffing his hands arrogantly into his pockets. The momentary time of shock the American faced only lasted for a second, before he snapped out of his own reverie and stared at Arthur's back angrily.
This time it was him glaring at the spiteful Englishman.
➊ ➃ ➌
"Hey! Kiku!" The boy in question turned around, a small smile gracing his face at the sight of his congenial American friend, his long arms waving frantically at his sides. Alfred suddenly was right in front of the Japanese boy, his crystal blue eyes full of mirth and his mouth flapping away incessantly.
"So so so," Alfred said, jumping up and down in excitement. "Ready to go to Starbucks?"
Kiku nodded, and soon enough the jet black-haired boy was being forcefully dragged towards their supposed destination by the hyperactive American. The Japanese boy cocked his head on confusion at the American's sudden abnormally heightened behavior, musing that Alfred was more than likely excited about something or another. The only question left to answer was exactly what had made Alfred so excited, but he wasn't going to go about poking into his business. They have just met, after all, and it would be very uncouth of him to ask his new blonde friend such a personal question.
Little did the Japanese boy know that this was all just a little façade a la Alfred to rid his thoughts of the annoying Englishman, who somehow always managed to creep himself into his thoughts as if it was nobody's business. It definitely was aggravating, especially considering their little clash in the empty cafeteria.
The Briton was surprisingly a lot ruder than whatever the American originally made him out to be, if that was even possible. The fact he didn't throw an insult at Alfred even confused him more, but he supposed that it was better than hearing some fancy-schmancy jab at his pride.
He let out a short sigh and barged into the translucent doors to Starbucks, looking around in search of an empty table. He then dragged himself towards one near a window, with the Japanese boy walking promptly adjacent to him. The two seated down almost simultaneously, and Kiku bowed his head yet again. "I will order our drinks as thanks for earlier."
"You dun hafta do it, dude." His speech was slightly slurred from his stressed-out mind, but he managed a reassuring glance at the Japanese boy. "I'll do it if ya want."
"No, no, I insist, Alfred-san."
"Oh, well, whatever you say," he said, shrugging. "Iced Peppermint White Chocolate Mocha, 'kay?"
Kiku took a brief second to absorb the rather lengthy order into his head and nodded, walking off into the distance. Alfred stared out of the window, his hand supporting his chin. Right outside were a few kids playing a small game of baseball, it seemed. They were all laughing and yelling at each other. It seemed almost refreshing. Until, that is, he realized one of the boys was Romano—the scary boy who seemed to have an irrational hatred towards the American.
He gasped quietly and began covering his face out of fear. He then peeked through his fingers, nodding his head at his paranoia, and presumed to watching the game the boys played. Despite his scowling and petulant demeanor, Romano actually seemed to be enjoying the game of baseball. He was also rather fidgety when he was even the least bit close to a certain Spaniard. Alfred found himself subconsciously smiling. It's actually kinda cute in a way…
From his side, he heard soft footsteps, signaling Kiku's return. In each of his hands were a different kind of drink: Alfred's, and a weird green one.
When the Japanese boy put the drinks on their tables, Alfred began scrutinizing the green drink with horrified suspicions. "Uhh, Kiku… what exactly is that?"
"Tazo Green Tea Crème Frappuccino," Kiku said nonchalantly with such matter-of-fact, it made Alfred blush at the stupidity of his question.
"That's cool, dude." Alfred took a short sip of his chocolate drink, indulging himself in the sweetness of such a cold, heavenly drink. "So," he began lamely—a silly attempt at conversation with a taciturn Kiku. "Where'd you meet Mattie?"
"Ah, Matthew-san? We have met during second period. We sit next to each other." Kiku, too, took a short sip of his drink, a small rush of bliss and ecstasy washing over his pale face. "He is a rather peculiar kind. I have noticed that… he exhibits a sort of troubled expression every now and again. I have not asked him of it yet, but I am quite worried."
"Same here!" gushed Alfred as he took another sip of his drink, but with more intensity. "I've been wantin' to ask him and all, but I think it'd be kinda rude, y'know?"
"Agreed. I wish to help him, though…"
"Yeah, really!" Alfred sat and pondered for a brief second before a flash of inspiration washed over his face. He pulled out his phone and smiled, looking through his contacts list for the Canadian's name. "Maybe I should text him…!"
"Please do," agreed Kiku happily as he took yet another sip of his drink. It looked as if he made minimal progress in drinking his Frappuccino as Alfred was just about close to being done with his.
Alfred chose Matthew's name ("Mattie Williams :D" on his phone) and typed up a seemingly casual text.
hey mattie! lol sup? :)
He then pressed send and waited patiently for a response. Surprisingly, it came only a few seconds after Alfred sent the original text message.
bored :( family talk right now.. i'm not even supposed to be texting right now tho
"Mattie's talking with the 'rents right now," Alfred said solemnly, hints of empathy and pity behind his words. Kiku didn't say anything but furrowed his eyebrows in an act of sympathy for their Canadian friend.
Alfred fought with himself on whether or not to respond to his text message. The Canadian may just as well get into trouble, and Alfred wasn't so keen on that happening. However, he later decided that he should text him back. The Canadian did have the choice of replying or not. Hopefully, Matthew had his phone set on at least vibrate….
dat sux dude… srry :(
Alfred pressed sent and returned his attention towards the Japanese boy again, smiling. "Sorry for ignoring you, Kiku."
"It is quite alright, Alfred-san. I am not a very talkative person anyway." By now, his drink was half full, whereas Alfred's was squeaky clean empty.
Alfred stuck out his tongue. "I bet I can getcha t'talk. What're your hobbies?"
"Drawing," Kiku stated timidly, blushing. "I am also very fond of watching anime, and I play the piano and oboe in my spare time."
"Wow! Two instruments? That's awesome, Kiku!" His voice was full of genuine shock and amazement, his mouth forming an enormous "o" shape. (Though, he was slightly embarrassed by the fact he had no clue what an oboe was; still, he kept his mouth shut about that as it would've seemed awkward to ask.) Kiku was nodding frantically, very embarrassed yet smiling at the praise.
Suddenly, Alfred felt a vibration in his pockets, and he flipped out his phone in one swift motion. He stared at his screen for a moment and was very surprised to see that he had two new texts. He was aware that the first one was from Matthew, but the second one was from a mysterious number that wasn't anywhere in his contacts list. Weird…
Nonetheless, he chose to read Matthew's first (and he would probably completely ignore the weird text message, as paranoia started to trickle towards his head).
it's ok. bro is yelling tho… scary…
The American tried to imagine the Briton lashing out in front of everyone, and he found himself shivering at the very thought. It definitely was horrifying to see Arthur angry. His fuzzy eyebrows furrowed (Alfred stifled another giggle), his hands clenched into white fists, his mouth flapping madly and barking out incessant expletives.
Kiku seemed to notice the horrified look on the American's face, as he himself began to worry, asking gently, "What is wrong, Alfred-san?"
"Mattie says Arthur's yelling. Imagine how scary that would be…" Another thought, another shiver.
The Japanese boy found that he himself was shivering madly at the very thought. "That truly is scary, Alfred-san."
"I know, right?" The American fumbled with his phone, trying to come up with a good reply. For once in his life, he couldn't respond to a text message. Well, at least he couldn't come up with anything logical-sounding at the moment. He was opting for an agreement text, or possibly another sympathetic text, but he wasn't sure exactly which words to use….
So, after a few minutes of contemplation, he finally decided on something short and sweet:
dat is scary lol. dude needs 2 lighten up :P
Somewhat satisfied with his composition, he sent it and prayed that he didn't sound too rude. After all, even though Arthur did hate Matthew, it wasn't as if Matthew necessarily hated Arthur. They might have not been on the best terms, and they might have not been exactly blood-related, but they were still brothers after all. And, from Alfred's knowledge on brothers—and, mainly siblings in general—is that they really do care for each other, despite complex differences with nature and the such.
Of course, that was just him and his optimism speaking.
"Hey, Kiku, d'you have a bro or sis?" Alfred suddenly found himself asking without thinking first.
The Japanese boy was taken aback by such a random question, but coughed into his hand, nodding his head fervently. "Well, yes, I do have an older brother. And a younger brother. And a younger sister. My brothers are very annoying, however."
Alfred laughed. "Yeah, bros can be pre-tty annoyin', huh?"
"Yes, ver—" An old-sounding ringtone started playing, and the Japanese boy was left to fumbling in his pockets for his phone, an embarrassed blush eating up his cheeks. Alfred watched the boy with bemused interest, watching the boy clumsily take his phone out of his pockets, fidgeting with the keyboard.
Then, the boy sighed sadly and flipped his phone back in his pocket, bowing his head in that same regal-like manner. "I apologize, Alfred-san, but my parents are here to pick me up."
"It's all good, dude," Alfred said good naturedly. He began waving a passive hand towards the direction of the exit. "I'll see ya tomorrow, 'kay?"
"Y-yes. Sayonara… Alfred-kun." Alfred raised an eyebrow at the sudden change of honorifics, but found himself smiling slightly. He actually preferred the sound of "Alfred-kun" as opposed to "Alfred-san". It seemed more fitting for his image, and it also seemed less stranger-like and more friendly. Alfred, of course, loved friendliness. (One of the main reasons he had taken a strong dislike towards that Briton, what, with his rude behavior and all.)
Alfred decided to stay a little while longer before even thinking about leaving. He stared out at the window and realized the boys were still playing baseball. He then looked at his phone, promising himself that he would leave right after he got a reply from the Canadian. Sure enough, a new text popped up on his phone a few seconds later.
u should tell HIM that :9 he calmed down now tho. i think he's txting some1, but he isn't typing... just STARING at his fone
Quirking an eyebrow, Alfred got up and typed up a quick response, walking towards the exit with his head buried into his screen.
dats weird lol.. tell him i said hi :P
Alfred smirked mischievously and clutched onto his phone, walking outside. He was greeted with a cool zephyr of autumn air as he breathed in almost happily. Maybe all it took to clear up his mind a bit was his favorite Starbucks drink and a nice chat with his new best friend. He did seem a lot lighter than before.
Casually, the American blonde began walking down the streets, his strides perfectly even. He was definitely in a good mood right now for whatever reason, and he was not going to waste such a beautiful moment.
Finally, he felt his phone vibrating in his iron grip, and he hurriedly turned to look at whatever Matthew was going to say. His mind was dripping in anticipation, and so were his bright blue orbs.
uhh he says he doesn't know ur name…
The American slightly paled, dubious of the words for a minute. Rereading it just to make sure, Alfred began to gape, disbelief evident in his eyes. Arthur hated him, yet he couldn't even be bothered to know his name, at least? And he even introduced himself in front of the entire classroom just yesterday! Why I ought to…
Alfred stood still in his tracks and bent his face even further down onto the screen, his fingers fast and furious. His mind was in a heated bog full of Arthur, Arthur, motherfucking Arthur.
The least the bastard could do is memorize my name! What's so hard about Alfred? Even a simple Al will suffice! God, I fucking hate him! He doesn't even deserve to hate me if he won't even to rememb—
"Hey, kid, watch out!"
Alfred turned around, but was suddenly stopped by an unbelievable force. A sharp blow to his neck, and Alfred felt all his senses numbing as he toppled over onto the ragged cement. Everything was suddenly devoured into a perpetual darkness.
I guess I'll be continuing this, but don't expect updates to happen too often. I still have… a few other fics to worry about, and the plot bunnies going around in my head are tempting me to start some more (plus, there's band, which consumes practically half of my life; we have football games and contests that last from ten in the morning to one in the morning… the very next day). However, I do have a plot line for this, so writing this won't be too hard. I'm usually the one who thinks of a plot without outlining it and writes it out, y'know? And that causes me to have numerous author blocks. XD
Also, in response to Ava's review… I don't use a thesaurus. I do most of my writing on my iPhone, because my computer privileges are limited; and it would be a pain to have to use a thesaurus app, then go back on Hotmail and type up one specific word just because, anyway. XD I have been meaning to make this a lot simpler in terms of descriptions and words (I guess) unlike my other fics, though, so I'll try to make it a little less descriptive and less "wordy" starting from chapter four and on.
Thanks to everyone who's reviewed. I really appreciate it. It really surprised me how many people actually liked and reviewed this. As cheesy as it sounds, it made me happy. :)
By the way, if anyone's wondering, Canada will be having a love interest too. I just can't say right now, or it'll ruin the plot. Feel free to guess if you want, though. P I will tell you that there's definitely going to be UKUS (and tidbits of USUK, because I don't believe in perpetual seme- and uke-ism), GerIta, Spamano, and AusHun. There's a lot more than that, believe me, but I won't be saying anything else until I find that it's the appropriate time.