A death grip was set on his shoulder as the other nervously watched Japan and Italy walk about their establishment.
"Are you sure it was okay to let them come here?"
"Ja."
America looked around the house for anything that could be embarrassing.
Germany gritted his teeth as the other dug his nails into his flesh, creating more damage for his already bruised shoulder. "America," he started.
America glanced up at his "friend". "Yes…uh, sir?" He was terrified as that scary expression—the one he only wore around Italy—appeared.
"If you don't let go of my shoulder, I most likely will not forgive you. You don't want that, do you?" He emphasized some of the words.
America nodded, looking a lot like a canine that had just gotten scolded for doing something he wasn't supposed to. He quietly released Germany's shoulder.
America was just minding his own business when he received a whack on the head. "OW! What was that for?"
Germany smirked. "That was for this lovely bruise you gave me." He removed his shirt to show said injury.
"Wow, that looks like it hurts."
"Oh, really?" He said sarcastically.