The Things They Say
"Do you think America's losing weight?"-England. He's not asking anyone in particular. He's noticed something; God knows that he didn't want to. He wants to pretend that everything's normal and fine with the younger country but there was that flash. That brief moment that he saw how wounded America was. When he looked into the face of the Hero for a second and was reminded of the weak little colony that had been his so long ago. When he saw, in his eyes, just how sad and hurt and torn up to blonde male was when they joked with him. And then the flash was gone and the American was grinning but England knew that he wasn't just seeing things.
"He looks like he's gained again. I'm not surprised." –Italy. He tries to make it sound innocent but he's just as mean as the rest.
England thinks, briefly, that it isn't true. That America has lost weight, too quickly for it to be natural. For a moment he looks at the younger country and sees that it isn't fat under his clothes, just more clothes. He sees that America still wears his bomber jacket, even though it's sweltering inside the Consulate. For just a second he sees passed what America wants him to see.
And then it's gone because
He doesn't want to think about it.
England doesn't want to know.
He's scared.
He doesn't want to think about the probability of America hurting himself, so he ignores it.
America never hears about England's question. He never hears about his former ruler's concern. All he hears is
Fat
Ugly
Gross
Disgusting
Shit
"I know why America laughs so loud at our jokes. He's compensating for not understanding them." –Germany. Hardee har har. It makes everyone laugh. The jokes always do. Jokes about how America's
Stupidfatuglyworthlessnothing
And then he's laughing again because if he doesn't then he knows he'll break down and cry.
It hurts.
And he's just so tired of it hurting all the time.
Because they don't understand…they don't…they can't comprehend what's going on in his mind.
They wouldn't want to.
In his mind he thinks about how much he hates himself. He hates the jokes and he hates not being able to prove them wrong. He hates eating. He hates not eating. He hates laughing. He hates smiling. He hates everything.
But if he dropped the façade, then what?
Would everyone leave him alone?
Would the jokes stop?
Not fucking likely.
So he keeps it up. Even though it's killing him.