Wishes
America lay back onto the cool grass, the green sprouts tickling at the backs of his ears as he stared up into the night sky. The August weather was cool and dewy in the night and he zipped up his jacket a little further when a chill overcame him.
Tonight the moon was thin, waning and pale against the stark of the black sky. There was a quick arc of light in the corner of his eye and he blinked. It was starting soon.
America sat up and looked around, frowning at the empty field around him. There was nothing to impede his view of the sky, no bright lights to shine in his eyes, no loud city noises to ruin the quiet mood of nature about him. And yet he was still alone when the shower was about to start.
With a huff he laid back down, letting his arms and legs just sprawl out ungracefully. America screwed his eyes shut, waiting for that moment when the Earth below him began to spin, feeling himself tilt with it. It was a humbling feeling. It made him feel small; normal even.
The sound of footsteps crunching the thick grasses brought him from his pseudo-meditation. "Sleeping already, America?"
He looked up into England's smirking face, patting the grass next to him with a gloved hand. "Nope, just waiting for your slow self. Did the walk tire you out, old man?"
England sat next to him, crossing his legs and leaning back onto the palms of his hands to stare up at the stars. "Mm," was all he said, choosing silence and peace over their usual bickering.
Gradually meteors began streaking across the dark sky, leaving glittering trails before disappearing once more. America edged his way closer to England, settling his head onto the other nation's thigh as they stared upwards.
"Are you going to make any wishes?" England asked after a long moment.
America shook his head. "You don't wish on meteors, England. Duh."
England only seemed amused, his hand finding its way into America's, their fingers tangling together neatly. "I see. So those shooting stars you used to sing to when you were a lad… Not the same thing, is it?"
"… No… No, of course not. I have no idea what you're talking about." America harrumphed, making himself more comfortable against England's warmth. "Besides, it's not like your wishes would come true. Magic isn't real."
"Mmhmm."
America only stared up at the meteor shower above him. He didn't need to make any more wishes. Everything he had ever wished for was right next to him.