And apparently FF won't let you put more than one ending punctuation at the end of a sentence. So I've put spaces between the exclamation points and question marks! Hooray for making it look awkward! I also probably missed a few... Crap.
"England..." the American began, hanging his head sadly. "What exactly do you think is going on..?"
He remained silent, feeling for all the world like a scolded child, and all he knew to do was keep his head low, stare at the ground... Maybe he wouldn't snap out something stupid, or say something he would regret.
"You think Russia and I are a couple..?"
More silence. Just get it over with, sit it out, you can make it...
"Come on England, if you don't speak up I can't tell what's wrong!"
"I..."
No, no, don't start talking, you're confused right now, you'll say something stupid!
"I...I'm fine. There isn't anything wrong..."
Good, good, nice fib, just...don't let him know. He's already got a lover, he'll reject you, and then what little relationship you've built up with him will crumble again! You can't have that... It's taken this long to build it back up again, he can't find out, you can't let him know!
"Really?"
"Yes."
"That's a lie England, I can tell..."
Oh, shite, was he moving closer..?
"Why don't you just tell me what's wrong! Is it really that bad? It's okay, you can tell me, I'm the hero, remember? I just wanna know why you're so down!"
"Where are you going?"
"Huh?"
"With Russia. Where are you going?"
"Come on England, don't change the subject..."
"Answer the damn question, Alfred!"
And thus, began the yelling. He knew it, he always did this when upset, even when he was making a conscious effort not to. He would never change... Maybe America was better off with Russia after all. All he did around the American was yell, and fight, and that wouldn't make a healthy relationship at all... He furrowed his brows, keeping his glare aimed at the ground.
"We're...just going to see a movie..."
"At his place! ?"
"Well, yeah, England, it's a Russian movie! It only just came out over there, I've been wanting to see it!"
"With him! ?"
"He offered, and I accepted! How much of our conversation were you eavesdropping on, England?"
"...never mind. It doesn't matter anyway..."
"Yes it does! So you think that Russia and I are together because you overheard us talking about going to see a movie together..! I go to see movies with Canada all the time!"
"You used his human name!"
"I don't like formalities!"
"Why don't you ever call me by my name! ?"
"Because you fuss at me when I do! Why are you yelling at me, England, I haven't done anything!"
The Briton had to pause at that. Hadn't done anything? Heh. He had done something terrible, and he didn't even realise it. England would have to make sure to keep it that way, he was probably close to blurting something out. He was already yelling, which wasn't a good sign, so he was really having to keep tabs on himself now.
"It doesn't matter what you've done, Alfred, we aren't getting anywhere, so why don't you just let me go back to the hotel, yeah..?"
There was silence. A long silence permeating the room, and he was suddenly stricken with fear. What had he said, what had America heard..? It was discomforting, that silence, and as it dragged on, England's nerves began to fray. He was getting paranoid, he didn't remember saying anything strange, but what if he had? What if he had let something slip, and hadn't even realised it!
"A-America..?"
"You called me 'Alfred'..."
Oh, perfect, now America was upset with him. He scrambled around for an excuse, anything that would even be mildly believable, and he sputtered it out, still not looking up from a very interesting floor.
"You...you said that you didn't like formality!"
"Well yeah, but you're all about it! I'm just surprised!"
Well, he sounded a bit more cheerful than before...
"Hey, does that mean I really can call you 'Arthur'! ? You weren't kidding! ?"
"Uh...what?"
He finally allowed himself to glance up, and when did America get so close! He was looming over him, he actually had to crane his neck to see his face!
"Arthur! You called me by my human name, so does that mean I can call you by yours too! ?"
The Englishman honestly didn't know what to say to that. All he could do was blush, and nod, and America got the most vibrant grin on his face. It warmed England's heart, because it wasn't the Russian who had made him smile like that, and hell, the man wasn't even in the room! It was him. All him, him alone, and him only, and America was looking at HIM with that smile!
"So...Arthur...why do you seem so mad at Russia then?"
...why couldn't that daft idiot just leave well enough alone and let him enjoy his moment in peace! He turned his gaze back to the ground, and pouted.
"I just...don't like that vodka drinking prat, that's all... I never have."
"Aww, I thought you were in a good mood! You're supposed to drop your guard and tell all your secrets when you're in a good mood!"
Did he really just have that little tact..?
"I did tell you why I seem mad at him!"
"No you didn't! I know that's not why you're upset, because you were acting fine before you found us in the meeting room!"
How was it that it was today of all days that America decided to pay attention! ?
"Really, Alf-eh, America, if-if you really must know why I seem so upset with him, then...then it...it's because..!"
Augh, dammit, he needed another excuse! He could only come up with so many, he didn't know WHAT to say, at least nothing that wouldn't sound utterly ridiculous, and he struggled and fumbled until his face lit up.
"It's because my boss is going into a war with Russia soon, and I don't want him to be close to you! If you ally with him, then you'll get hurt unnecessarily!"
There was another moment's silence, the two English speaking nations staring each other down, and the Englishman could only blink once before America pouted, glaring at him. Why was he glaring! ? What did he say now! ?
"England, like hell I could ever get hurt by you... I think we already pretty much established that I can fuck you over sideways in war..."
England growled, having not taken kindly to that comment... He stood up, balled his fists, and pushed past the man, waving him off as he moved towards the door. He was pretty sure he just got over the American. Who needed that git anyway?
"On second thought...I don't care if you ally with Russia. Bombing you on my way to him could be fun! I do still have a bit of anger to let out on you, after all, don't think I've forgotten all the shite you put me through..."
"Oh, come on England, that's not cool! What's your beef with me?"
Of course he would use a saying revolving around meat. England rolled his eyes, turning to frown at the boy again. He was going to have permanent wrinkles in his forehead if this kept up... Damn that Russian to the deepest depths of the lowest levels of hell for doing this to him. He was too young to have wrinkles...
"I'm a nation known for holding grudges, America... It's the way I've always been, ever since I can remember, and no matter how much time passes, the freshest wound on my body will always be the one I seek the most vengeance for."
"Wouldn't the most recent wound be the Blitz..?"
"Do you have no tact at all! ? Blimey, you don't seem threatened in the slightest!"
"Why would I be threatened, it's only you!"
"Why you little brat!"
And for just a moment, his love was coated by anger, and the Englishman lunged at the boy, tackling him to the ground. His hands went to America's collar, and fingers gripped tight, and England proceeded to shake the American roughly, jostling his head back and forth in hopes of damaging his brain. Or maybe rattling his eyeballs out. Either one would have sufficed.
"E-England! What the hell!"
"Don't you 'what the hell' me, you've had this coming for a long time! I don't even know why I cared that you were with Russia, it isn't as if I have anything to gain by being with you myself, and really, I'm starting to think it would be a horrendous idea!"
"Wha-! What would be a horrendous idea! ?"
With a grunt of force, the American's head slammed into the floor, the Briton having taken to beating his skull into the floor now. He seemed far too pleased to be causing damage, and he still didn't seem terribly convinced that America wasn't dating Russia, and unfortunately for America, he was the closest thing for the Anglo nation to take his frustrations out on.
"You're stubborn, and an idiot, and tactless, and the opposite of me, and you eat too many burgers, and you cause unimagineable amounts of trouble, and you hate me anyway, and DAMMIT, DESPITE ALL OF THAT SHITE, I FALL FOR YOU! I DON'T KNOW WHETHER TO LOVE YOU OR HATE YOU, SO I END UP DOING BOTH! STOP MAKING ME LOVE YOU, YOU IDIOT, DO YOU KNOW HOW MUCH GRIEF IT CAUSES ME!"
"W-wait, Eng-! England! You-you what! ? OW! STOP-STOP BANGING MY-MY HEAD INTO THE-GYAH! FLOOR!"
"NOT UNTIL I'M SATISFIED!"
"HOW LONG IS-! THAT GOING TO TAKE! ?
"AS LONG AS I NEED!"
The answer to America's question came about three minutes later (a long time when your head is being struck continuously from the back with shattering force,) and England finally dropped the American, standing up and clapping his hands off, chest heaving with the adrenaline and exertion. America was left on the floor, groaning and rubbing the back of his head, and he cautiously sat up, wincing when he felt quite the knot resting there on his skull. He stood to his feet, grabbing the desk for balance, and wobbled a bit, brain having been effectively scrambled with the (in his opinion) unneeded force.
"E...England...oww, damn..! Are you finally done!"
"For now..."
"Can I say something!"
"Can you'..?" His brow arched, and America rolled his eyes.
"May I say something..?"
"Until I get tired of hearing you talk, then yes."
"Ugh! You're such a bastard..!"
"All right, I'm tired of hearing you talk now..."
"Wait, no, that...that wasn't what I wanted to say!"
"Then what did you want to say!"
"I wanted to ask you about what you said, now will you stop interrupting me! ? Geez!"
England paused. What had he said..? He was busy focusing on running America's ego into the flooring, he wasn't really paying too much attention to what he was saying, and to tell the truth, he'd...kind of forgotten what all of this was about.
"I wanted to ask you what you meant when you said something about us being together was a bad idea!"
...did England's heart just stop..? He took a moment to check for it. He could hear it pulsing through his ears, and he cursed inwardly for still being alive... Okay, great, now to find yet another excuse to add to the countless others he'd come up with that day. Maybe...maybe he was just so frustrated that he'd blurted something random out without thinking, or...or maybe he could say something about America's brain having been damaged, and he was remembering things wrong...
"O-oh, that? No, I...I didn't mean us being together like that! No, that...eh...that was...I just meant...you and me...t-together as in...j-just being in the same room! Th-that is...I-I mean I...we end up fighting with each other every time, and...and one of us always gets hurt! It's...n-not a good idea..!"
"Then what was all that stuff about having fallen for me despite all the crap I give you! ?"
"I said something about that! ?"
"Yes!"
England suddenly felt faint... The room was spinning around him, and he could hear a rushing in his ears, and all of this added to his vision tunnelling made him feel ill... His face turned pale, and he swayed a bit, the man quite unsteady on his feet, but to his credit, he never fell. He stumbled backwards, his only instinct to get away as fast as possible, but America was quick, and he put a tight grip on the Brit's wrist.
"A-Alfred, I don't want to talk about this!"
"Too bad!"
"You brat! Let me go!"
"Not until I get some answers!"
"I'm going back to the hotel!"
"I'm coming with you!"
"I'm going by myself!"
"By yourself and me, you mean!"
The American's voice was beginning to make England's eye twitch, and he grit his teeth, a poor substitute for biting Alfred's head off... It wasn't as if he really wanted the man to die, but...okay, yeah, he kind of really wanted to do more damage at this point. He used as much strength as he could muster to pull himself free, and without so much as another word, he turned, legs a blur as he tore the door open and ran for his car. He could hear the shout, hear the footsteps behind him, and as he burst through the double doors, reaching for his keys, he cursed, realising that he'd forgotten his briefcase with everything in it inside... Once those doors were locked up, they wouldn't be open to him until the next meeting, and he needed those papers, but was he really willing to go back and face America to get them..? He heaved out a puff of air, and skidded to a stop, nearly falling over with the few pieces of rock that rolled under his feet, but as soon as he regained his footing, he hopped to the side, shouting in surprise when America ran past him, glancing behind his shoulder when he realised that he'd overshot his goal. England took this opportunity to run back into the building, grabbing his briefcase and taking a moment to catch his breath before he ran back out, and...and wait, did...did America follow him back in..? He got his answer when he smashed into the man, who had waited for him outside the doors of the building... The boy held him tightly, and he didn't budge no matter how hard he screamed and flailed, and America huffed, dragging him back to the Englishman's red Toyota. (He had always oh so affectionately called it "England's old man car", but for now, he decided to be good.) He glanced at Russia, who, like he promised, waited for America, and he smiled, chuckling nervously.
"Ah...it seems there's been a change of plans, I can't make it to the movie. Sorry, Ivan, I'll try to make it some other time..."
"Ah, that's fine, Comrade Jones! I will wait for your visit then."
"Thanks, man! Ah...hey, England, quit squirming..!"
"JUST GO WITH HIM, DAMMIT, I DON'T CARE! LEAVE ME ALONE, I WANT TO GO BACK TO THE HOTEL!"
"What, so you can drown your sorrows in alcohol and bitch about me leaving you alone..?" America snorted. "No way. Now come on, I'm taking you back to the hotel myself. Later, Russia!"
"до свидания (do svidaniya), comrade! I look forward to your visit!"
With a smile and a wave, the Russian went to his own vehicle and got in, driving off, all the while the Englishman still screaming out his protests. Uncaring, America opened the door to the Englishman's car, tossed him in, and buckled him, stealing the keys and moving over to the driver's side, before he realised that...it was...an English car, and he'd just put England into the driver's side. Sighing, he took the Englishman back out, ignoring him when he continued his flailing and beating his back (he hit hard when he was pissed off!) and finally put him in the passenger seat. Why were English cars so weird anyway? They were all built backwards! He would have to remember to go to England one day and educate the poor people there that they'd been doing it wrong the whole time.
