"This must be what Heaven's like..." The American grinned at me, his blue eyes sparkling with the revolation.
No, I wanted to correct, Heaven is probably not just a beach, you twat. But try as I might, I couldn't find the words to convince Alfred of this. For a moment I thought it was because I was smart enough to know that no matter what I said, he would plow on with his decision. But after a moment I found myself entertaining the idea. Maybe not as specificly, but did he mean it specificly to begin with? Maybe, I allowed, maybe this was what Heaven felt like.
America ran his fingers through his damp blonde hair, his blue eyes clouding with concern. "England?" He waved a hand in my face. I swatted him away.
"What?" I huffed.
He smiled. "You aren't gonna argue with me?" He offered. I blinked at him, like I might have misheard. "Nevermind," he dismissed, "let's go swimming, England." He took my hand like it was natural and tugged me towards the shore. And once again, I was speachless, unable to argue with the idea. So I followed him, hoping - just a bit - that it wouldn't become too much of a habit.
