Hello again! sorry for not updating in a while *bows head* but I hope this chapter will make up for it...

I do not own anything, except the story idea... =)

Warning: America's mouth and a constant use of "God" in everything he says..., Drinking

Enjoy...

'I hate you… so why are you here in my house, in my room - in my bed - sleeping like you're in your own home? And why am I letting you?… I guess it's as the saying goes 'keep your friends close and your enemies closer.' Who the hell came up with that? Whatever…

So here you are sleeping on my bed, with that stupid smile you carry around when you're awake, and here I am sitting on a chair beside my bed, irritated, looking at you. I'm still trying to figure out what the hell you're doing in my house at three in the morning sleeping on MY bed, 'You hate me and I hate you, so go back to where you came from and leave me alone.'

That's what I want to say to you, so why haven't I said it? Probably because I'm too pissed off to just simply say something when you're sleeping. I find it unfair talking to someone and getting your feelings out when they aren't listening, thus the reason why I'm not saying anything yet (God, I sound like England!). But I want to, believe me….. You are the one person I do not want to see when I wake up in the morning, which is probably why I'm not sleeping. Or probably because of the fact that YOU'RE sleeping in MY bed.

Seriously what the hell?

Your drunkin' ass comes to my house in the middle of the night throwing you're sarcasms, tantrums and your "I hate you" attitude and when I argue back and ask you what the hell you're doing in my home you start attacking never fully hurting me…. Now why is that? It never stopped you before, not even when we were allies back in WWII or the Cuban missile crisis- did you ever go soft on me…and right when I was going to get a good punch in, you let go of me and head to my bedroom and fall your ass asleep. You have your own fuckin' bed for that….. fuck this I'm getting a drink.'

The young American gets up from his seat and heads out his bedroom, leaving the lights and the door open trying to make things uncomfortable for the sleeping figure on the bed. He heads to the kitchen, turning on every light on his way there.

His bare feet hit the cool marble kitchen floor, sending chilly waves into his brain telling him that any sleepy thought was just destroyed when he stepped on the cold floor.

He opens a cabin, ponders and decides to take a small tequila cup, then heads to the refrigerator and takes out a bottle of whiskey. He starts ascending the stairs turning every light off on the way to his room, grumbling the whole way there.

"Stupid commie" he says softly as he enters the bedroom. He sets down the whiskey and cup and sits on his wooden chair. He opens the bottle and pours the contents into the cup and immediately takes a drink, a burning sensation on his throat. This routine continues for who knows how many more rounds as he starts pondering again.

'Stupid Commie, I hate that your always smiling innocently outside, when you're so cruel, and malicious on the inside, fooling everyone. Do you enjoy doing that? Toying with people's feelings? Of course you do because you always do it.

I hate how you always tell me that we are so much alike… we're not, I'm the hero and you're the villain I have to defeat, that's how it is. Then you tell me that you love messing with me; don't you have something better to do in your free time other than bugging the living crap out of me? You said that you promise one day you're gonna make me fall in love with you, and that we'll become one…. HA! I still laugh about it! As if that's ever gonna happen! God, seeing your face, awake or asleep makes me… urg! Just wake up already!

Urg… maybe shouting in my head wasn't such a good idea… my head hurts…..'

America holds his head with both of his hands, regretting what he did, he lost count of how many drinks he had, doesn't matter because he was going to drink away the fact that THAT sleeping figure was in his house, in his room, SLEEPING in HIS BED.

'Stupid commie! Your just so annoying! The way you stare and smile is so creepy it just sends shivers down my spine, worse than France's rape smile….uurrgg God I hope you wake up soon so I can go to sleep.'

He bangs his head with the less than half empty whiskey bottle.

'Fuck I'm definitely going to feel this in the morning! Shit… maybe if I wake him up and be polite- no! This is MY house! I don't have to be nice to a bastard like that.'

He quickly stands up, both hands on his hips in a superman pose, but due to standing up, and the continuous consumption of liquor, he ends up with a head rush and quickly sits back down.

'Stupid commie, look at what you're doing to me…. Are you happy? Are you happy getting me drunk like your stupid ass is? God that stupid smile isn't going away, it's like he's staring at me, mocking me…. Urg! Well I'll show you! I'll give you something to smile at!'

He slowly gets off his chair and stands on his knees, inching closer to the Russian man, a smirk on the American's face.

'Hehe, I'll just do something that only I'll know about, so whenever I see him I can laugh my balls off!'

He studies the sleeping man's face thinking of the different things he could do to him.

'…. Now that I think about it….. he has a really flawless complexion, well duh! He has a fuckin' baby face! God he even looks like a damn baby sleeping like that.'

The Russian shifts a bit turning to his side, so he was facing the blond; just a few inches away from each other. Russia's hands were tucked under his head, which made his head level up to the American. His hair fell loosely onto his face, threatening to tickle his nose. America sees all this happening and backs away, with a slight blush. Their lips were almost touching.

'Stupid Russia! Why the hell did you go off and do that?'

America sees Russia's wrinkle his nose.

'uh oh… oooohh please don't wake up please don't wake up' as America says this, he runs his hand though Russia's bangs stroking them back.

'His hair is soft…. like feathers hhmmm…I never… noticed how long his eye lashes are, no wait what am I-? I'm just drunk! That's right! If Arthur is an emotional drunk and Francis is…. Well Francis when he's drunk then I must be some stupid ass drunk to be-'

The sleeping Russian starts murmuring in his language, which makes America stop his thinking, he leans in closer to try to decipher the Russian mans language, but with no such luck.

'God, even his Language pisses me off!' subconsciously the young blond strokes Russia's hair, taking in the sweet scent of sunflowers. 'he smells nice…. Wait what?'

America soon realizes what he's doing and backs away. He viciously grabs the whiskey bottle and chugs the rest down, the liquid burns his throat after every gulp but he didn't care, all he wants is to get rid of the thoughts of wanting to suddenly do something to the Russian , and goddamnit get rid of his blushing!

The morning sun shines though the crack of the window making the young American wake up due to the sun beaming in his eyes. He had woken up where he had been sitting last night only something had been added, a blanket covering his shoulders and downward. He blinks a few times, knowing full well that he had been drinking and decides not to move his head. He lifts Texas and rubs his eyes, though it didn't help none with his throbbing head.

Soon he realizes that he wasn't the only one in his room the night before, then he decides to lift his head; looking at the bed despite his hangover.

Russia wasn't in bed.

Replacing the man was a sunflower, a small bottle of vodka and a note.

America stumbles on the bed and reaches for the note re reading it several times before finally losing his head. "STUPID RUSSIAN!"

The note read:

"I promised I'd make you fall in love with me…"

Several months later the world conference was held in Washington D.C, So of course Alfred was one of the first to arrive, but when he got to the conference room he noticed a certain Russian walking his way.

"Good morning Amerika." Was all the Russian said as he made his way out the door.

"It was until I saw you're face…" but despite what he said, America lifted his hand to cover his face as he fought a blush.

'I hate everything about you… why do I love you?'

END.

Okay well that's all! I hope you guy's liked it, please feel free to comment, review, ask questions and so forth! Thank you all for tuning in to my first story! much appreciated! =)