Hello everyone :) I'm kinda ill at the moment which sucks, but at least I have enough strength to type stuff :P
Once again, thank you all for those who have taken the time to review and such, it makes me really happy ^_^
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Chapter Twelve- Three's A Crowd
"Uhn..."
As I slowly cross the barrier that separates dreams from reality, I am vaguely aware that something feels strange. I gave another groan as I prepare myself for the ordeal of opening my eyes, because it always hurts while your eyes take time to adjust once you've woken up. I mentally go over where I left my glasses the previous night so that I was prepared when I eventually did summon up the energy to move out of my sleepy state.
But seriously, something feels strange.
Still not completely aware of everything yet, only just vaguely starting to recognise the sounds of the waves and remembering that I am actually on an island and not some comfy bed, I come to the conclusion that it is time to wake up. It was as I had decided to wipe the sleep from my eyes before I opened them that I finally realised it:
I was holding something.
That's what felt so strange. I opened my eyes slightly, the sleep obscuring my already hindered vision. What have I got in my arms? Whatever it is, it's warm, and soft, and smells faintly of tea...
"Holy crap!"
I snapped my eyes open immediately, sure that I was wrong. There's no way that I have it right! I mean, why would I be cuddling with-
"England!"
What the hell? Why are we so close together? Why am I holding him? Why is he fast asleep and completely at ease with this situation?
Forgive me if I'm wrong, but does this mean that I did something?
I race over everything that happened last night in my mind. Okay, so we were at the campfire, we talked a bit, he went to bed while I stayed sat there for a bit, and then I went to bed as well. That's all I remember, but clearly something else must have happened because otherwise I wouldn't have England in my arms at this current moment in time! Think America, think!
I can't think!
Damn, to have England so close to me like this... there's no way I'd be able to think straight. His back is to me, but that doesn't make this any less difficult for me to try and proceed in a logical fashion.
His svelte body fits perfectly into my arms, and I can feel his steady heartbeat right up against me. His sand blonde hair is splayed all over the place, but somehow this only serves to make him that much more... appealing? Radiant? Cute? Whatever the word, his current bed head certainly doesn't detract from anything at all. And his neck is deliciously exposed, the flawless skin is right in front of me; the urge to mark that tantalising flesh is surfacing at an alarmingly fast rate. His breathing is steady at the moment, but what I wouldn't give to touch him, to make his breathing become faster, to have him calling my name, to have him feel how I feel...
What I wouldn't give to have him fall in love with me.
He is completely out of it, far too enveloped in sleep to notice anything out in the conscious world. That being the case, I wonder if I could steal a kiss? Just a small kiss, nothing more...
"GYAH!" I couldn't help but yell, I needed something to distract myself. I shake my head violently, trying to dispel the thoughts that are flooding my mind. To do something would be bad; England would hate me! But then... why is he sleeping so soundly in my arms?
"What the hell is going on?" I said loudly, as if saying it aloud would provide me with the answer. It didn't, obviously. However it did rouse England.
He moaned and began a similar process as to how I usually went about things in the morning, grumbling and rubbing his eyes free of sleep. But then, he tensed.
"What the bloody...?" he said blearily, shifting around a bit before his voice suddenly turned extremely cold.
"A-me-ri-ca," he said slowly in a voice so scary it could totally rival Russia any day of the week.
"Uwah! S-Sorry dude!" I stammered, not wanting to deal with a murderous England- we are on a desert island after all, who would know if he killed me?
"If you are sorry then let me go you git!" he yelled, any trace of drowsiness completely vanquished within him. It is only at this point that I realise that I am still holding him.
"Ah, right!" I said, quickly withdrawing my arms so that we were separate once again. I braced myself for an earful, but also hopefully an explanation as to how we ended up like that.
"Did you think it was funny to do something like that?" he shouted, "Seriously, what kind of tosser would do something like that? If you think I will let you off easily, then you are wrong you bloody wanker!"
"Wait a second dude, what-"
"Silence!" he wouldn't let me say anything, and got up from the leafy mattress in order to stand over me and look intimidating (which he was totally managing well at this moment in time). "For starters, my name is England! E-N-G-L-A-N-D!" he spelled. "Have you registered that? I am not 'Iggy' or 'dude' or 'man'; the name is England! Secondly, I couldn't give a toss if you were half asleep, that is still not a viable excuse for putting me in a bloody body lock!"
"Hey, it wasn't a body lock at all!" I protested, "I was merely..." my voice trailed off. What should I say? 'I was merely cuddling up with you'? Like hell that would go down well. I still don't fully understand what exactly happened.
"England, could you just calm down and explain to me what happened? I totally don't remember a thing!"
"You clearly did it to make a fool out of me," England seethed and folded his arms indignantly. "Pretending to be half asleep yet a valiant hero who would ever so kindly warm me up because it was so cold." He glared at me, and I began to pale.
Just how exactly did I 'warm him up' for him to be so mad at me? Surely I wouldn't have forgotten if I actually...
No. I refuse to believe that's what happened. I'm pretty sure all I must have done was hug him.
"If you hated it so much, why didn't you just move away?" I asked, pouting slightly.
A blush surfaced on his cheeks as he said, "Do not get the wrong idea! It is not as if I didn't try to get away!"
"Oh? Then why didn't you move?" I asked, a small smile forming on my lips. England was blushing! That's a good sign, right?
"Because, git, you have stupid strength! I tried to get away but it was bloody impossible! Goddammit, you piss me off!"
Aw man, looks like the blush didn't really have a hidden meaning after all.
"Oh yeah? Well I clearly didn't mean to do it!" I retorted, also getting up so that we were both glaring at each other. At least I've come up with an idea for him to drop the subject: divert his attention to make him mad about something else. I smirked as I said, "No one in their right mind would consciously hug you."
"What did you say?" he asked angrily.
"You heard me. Besides, all I was doing was trying to help out. If anything: you should be grateful."
He was visibly shaking with anger at this point, but I held my own. "Just chill out man! The reason you're so stressy is cuz we're here stranded on some island."
As soon as I'd said that, I knew that I had successfully negated having to talk about this issue further, because he exploded into a rant about how being stranded here with me was a 'bloody nightmare'. I simply grinned in triumph, because he was off on a tangent and no longer focused on being annoyed at me in particular. It's kinda amusing how he loses his temper so quickly; I thought he was meant to be a 'gentleman'. I'm not really fussed either way though, because for some strange reason I find England cute when he gets mad.
I zoned out and gazed up at the sun that had already risen a considerable amount. I could tell that it was going to be very hot again today, and so took off my jacket in anticipation for the searing heat to take over once again. I glanced over at our useless mode of transport and thought about what we were going to do, because there's no way we can stay stranded here forever. England was still ranting, although he was now angrily muttering his complaints instead of yelling them, but he seemed content nevertheless to just seethe. Once I felt he had calmed down enough so that he wouldn't start again, I said with a grin, "Don't worry England, I'm the hero so I will get us off this island!"
"How do you propose we do that?" he huffed, glancing around. "There doesn't appear to be anything we could use as a substitute for fuel and if we try and build a raft of some description we will most likely end up dead."
"Wow, great optimism there," I said sarcastically, ignoring the unimpressed look he shot at me. There must be something we can do to help our current situation, however it is admittedly harder to figure out what that something is.
"I'll see if I can find some fruit or something for breakfast," he said and he began to walk off.
"Aw man, I wish this place had burgers!" I moaned, sure that I would start suffering from withdrawal symptoms if I don't get some sort of junk food fix in the near future.
I heard England sigh and a small smile crossed my lips. Just a bit, I want to tease him.
"At least if we just pick fruit even you can't screw it up and make it taste bad," I said, laughing when the Brit turned around and yelled something that I'm sure was offensive.
Seriously England, you're just way too cute.
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"Hey America! Any luck with the radio yet?" England called from his spot on the island where he appeared to have collapsed. The heat had returned with a vengeance, and so I could understand why England was just lying there under a tree to keep as cool as would allow.
"Not yet!" I called back, gritting my teeth in annoyance because I've been at this for freaking ages now! I don't understand why it broke down anyways, it's not like we crash landed or anything. We just ran out of fuel and so landed on the nearest expanse of land we could find. Man, this sucks.
I'm sure that if you'd ask people what they would feel like being stuck on an island with only the person they love, they would probably say that they would be happy, maybe even elated. Romantics would see the whole thing as 'fate' and say that the island would become a private haven for the two lovers to enjoy... or something like that.
But if you ask me? I'm scared of screwing up. It's already pretty damn obvious that England isn't exactly my biggest fan, and if left to my own devices for too long then I may very well do something stupid (what happened last night being a great example). I'd like to think that just the two of us being stranded on an island would enable us to grow closer, and find out random facts about each other, and eventually spark the beginnings of something more. That's how it would go in the movies. In reality, however, it seems as though we will continually grow further apart before probably killing each other in the end.
Geez, why the hell is romance not like the movies?
I sighed in irritation and simply gave up. There is no way the radio is going to be fixed anytime soon, and if I continue work on it then it won't be long until the heat finally gets to me and I'll pass out. I make my way over to where England has his eyes closed, probably so that he can concentrate on thinking cool thoughts or something.
"Yo, budge up," I said, sitting down next to him.
"There are other trees you know," he said, not deigning to open his eyes. "I need all the shade I can get, idiot."
"I'm just being nice and keeping an old man some company," I said, smiling a bit when I saw England at least had enough energy to punch me softly on my shoulder.
"Urgh, it is too bloody hot! I hate places like this!" he moaned, leaning back against the tree and opening his eyes slightly.
"Hot places are cool," I reasoned. "Like, if we weren't stranded here, then this would be totally awesome! It's like the beach or something!"
"I only like the sea," the Brit said wistfully, "I could do without the beach aspect of things."
"What? No way! The beach is way epic!"
He shook his head lazily in disagreement. "All a beach is comprised of is sand, and you can't really do anything interesting with sand." He motioned behind us where all of the foliage was, "For example, there may be trees here but there aren't any flowers or anything."
"Pfft, lame! Who cares about flowers?" I snorted, but I was paying careful attention to England's reactions.
"It just so happens that I do care," he huffed. "Roses are the most beautiful flowers on this earth."
"Roses, huh?" I repeated. All right, so roses are his favourite flower. A small grin crosses my face, I'm not really sure why finding out something as trivial as that makes me so happy, but I don't really mind. Maybe I could get England a big bouquet of roses at some point, so then I would be able to see him smile once again. I've noticed that he doesn't smile much at all nowadays, and I can't really recall the days of my childhood all that clearly anymore, but I do remember that I loved England's smile more than anything. Of course, I wasn't about to go saying all of this lovey-dovey stuff to England, and so I simply said:
"Meh, roses are okay but they're kinda boring- just like all flowers."
"You have no appreciation for anything, do you?" he asked in exasperation.
"Course I do dude! I appreciate burgers! And milkshakes! And heroes! And awesome action movies! And-"
"Shut up, it is actually painful having to listen to the rubbish you appreciate." I was about to protest to the snide comment, but I was thrown off my train of thought when I heard the sound of a plane overhead. England heard it too, and so without hesitation or regard for the boiling weather we both got to our feet and began waving madly in an attempt to get the plane's attention. We yelled as loudly as we could, but then it suddenly dawned on me that this may very well be an enemy plane- in which case we are screwed. I looked at England who had also stopped yelling, appearing to have come to the same conclusion because his lips were pursed and he had a worried expression.
The plane landed, and I could feel my heartbeat racing. Please let it be an ally, please let it be an ally, please please please, I chanted in my head over and over again. I felt the sleeve of my t-shirt being pulled on slightly, and when I glanced down I saw that England had grabbed a hold of it. I guess he's just as nervous as me, so I shot him a reassuring smile before we both looked on to see who would emerge from the aircraft. I didn't hold out much hope for my prayers actually being answered, half expecting an uptight German to come striding out of the plane and take us prisoner, but it seemed as though luck was on our side today.
"It's them, we found them!" a familiar voice sounded before three very recognisable countries appeared at the door of the plane.
I let out a huge sigh of relief and grinned at England. "Lucky, right?"
He nodded slightly and looked at the ground, letting go of my sleeve.
Huh? What's with the subdued reaction?
"Honestly, aru! I didn't think that you would end up getting lost!" China said angrily, walking up to us both but he did look slightly concerned. "You two look rough, aru," he observed.
"That may be because we've been stranded on an island," the Brit muttered sarcastically, but China let the remark slide. I could see Russia peering at us from the plane, a delighted expression written all over his face. I had a pretty good idea of what he was thinking: seeing America and England suffering like this is most delightful, kol kol. Yeah, my hero analysis must be correct.
"China, dude, how did you find us?" I asked.
"Well when we hadn't heard from you I knew that something wasn't right. We realised that you must have gotten in an argument and gotten off track, and so we took a look at secluded places you could have ended up, aru."
Well, that certainly was convenient. Are we really that predictable?
"Angleterre~!" France cried out, running up to us dramatically with his hair blowing around in some non-existent breeze, a red rose decorating it. He clutched a white handkerchief to him, before throwing it over his shoulder theatrically and practically diving on England.
"What the-?" England began, but France hushed him.
"I was so worried~" he drawled, "I thought that I would never see those stupid eyebrows or get to make fun of your awful cooking ever again!"
"Unhand me at once you bastard!" England yelled, but France continued to cling to him nevertheless.
"It appears as though this 'ot weather 'as not made you any more docile," he pouted before neatly dodging out of the way of England who attempted to kick him. "I was just being nice~" he hummed.
"Shut up frog," England mumbled, "I cannot be arsed dealing with you today."
"Hmm... 'ow about I make you some fabulous French cuisine when we get back?" he smirked.
"I would rather die than eat your cooking," the Brit said firmly.
"Trust me, if you carry on eating your food then you really will die."
"I swear I will kill you, you Goddamn bearded tossbag!" England yelled, but his energy levels were severely depleted due to the heat and so France easily dodged before casually draping his arm around him.
"I missed you too~" France hummed, winking. He pulled the rose out of his hair and handed it to England. "Your favourite, non? This should put you in a better mood~"
"Don't mock me," England scowled, but he took the rose anyway.
I just stood there, staring at the odd interactions between the two of them. I could honestly swear that they hated each other; didn't they always fight? Didn't France want to see England broken or something? So then why did he always come up with a way to get closer to him? How does he manage to stay so calm when they fight? What is the relationship between the two of them?
France glanced towards me and smiled. "Ah, it is good to see you as well, America~"
I simply nodded, but fixed on a poker face. I think France definitely noticed this, because he smirked slightly and pulled England closer. "I hope you were nice to my little Angleterre," he purred.
His?
"Get off of me you damn Frenchy!" England protested, struggling before finally escaping the other blonde's grasp. France chuckled and blew him a kiss, to which Iggy spat out, "Screw you."
"Is that a request?" he grinned.
"Do you have a death wish?" the gentleman threatened.
I can't be sure of this, they certainly don't act like a couple, but then again... there are always small hints. This may just be paranoia talking, but there are small things like subtle touches, or glances, and the fact that if they really want to then they can get along without fighting- at least for a few hours anyway. So then does that mean that the two of them really are together?
No.
I refuse to believe that, it just can't be right.
"Let's just get back, aru," China sighed, proceeding to walk back to the aircraft. England followed, leaving just France and me behind.
"'ave fun?" he asked, looking at me with an amused smile.
"Not really, being stranded kinda stinks," I said, watching him carefully.
"Is that so~?"
I nodded blankly, gazing out at the ocean before turning back. "Hey, France," I said, looking at him seriously. "How did you know he liked roses?"
"Why wouldn't I?" he asked simply. "I've known Angleterre for countless centuries, it would be weird if I didn't know 'is favourite things, non?"
He... has a point. If I think about it, then France and England must have known each other long before I was born. The fact that he has so many years on me... pisses me off.
"Hn~ That annoys you, doesn't it?" he asked, as if reading my mind.
"What? No way dude, haha!" Covering is the only way to deal with this, I'm not about to tell France he's totally right. "Why would I wanna know something like that?"
"Why indeed~" he chuckled slightly, flicking his hair out of his eyes. "I guess it doesn't really matter. After all, I'm the one that knows 'im the best." He glanced at me, and I could see that he was enjoying this to no end. I clenched my fists, but I remained calm and thought up a really cool way to find out if my suspicions were correct.
"You know him that well? Geez, as if you two old men haven't killed yourselves yet! Unless, you actually don't mind each other."
"That's an interesting idea," he mused, "But I think we should be getting back, oui?" He started to walk off, but I called after him.
"Hey, dude! Does that mean I'm right?" Please say no...
He stopped in his tracks. He didn't turn around, but he said something quietly. I had to strain to catch what he said, but I just about managed to make it out:
"Do you know why I 'elped you all those years ago? It was because it wasn't fair for you to 'ave Angleterre all to yourself."
"Wait a sec, what are you-"
"I could tell 'e was 'appy when you were 'is brother, it annoyed me. When I 'eard you were going to end that, I thought I'd 'elp. Of course it was worth it to see Angleterre break, but it was also interesting to see 'ow you thought throwing everything away would bring you closer somehow. I'd say that it 'ad the opposite effect, oui?"
What is he on about? I had a sneaking suspicion back then as well, but does this mean that he really did know the reason why I wanted my independence so badly?
I just stood there, completely speechless and unable to form coherent sentences.
"Time is ticking America," France said seriously, turning around to face me. "If you're not careful, everything will 'ave been for nothing. Well, either that or someone else is going to steal 'im away from you."
"I have no idea what you mean dude," I said as if I couldn't be bothered with this conversation. However I am unable to make eye contact, instead opting to stare at the golden sand all around us. My heart twists painfully, probably because I know that he's right. But someone else stealing him away? Does he mean someone like himself?
"You're just as stubborn as Angleterre," France murmured. "Good luck America, you're going to need it," he laughed softly, turning around once more to head back to the plane.
Seriously, what can I do? I can't do anything but act like how I'm acting now! This is a delicate situation, and one wrong move could mean that everything has been a waste of time.
I just... have no idea on what I should do...
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-Entry 2627-
I think I'm getting more selfish.
I thought that just being by England's side would be enough, but then I wanted him to acknowledge me.
I then thought that just having him acknowledging me would be enough, but now I want him to rely on me. I want him to see me as someone he can't live without.
I don't mind waiting for as long as it takes for my feelings to get recognised, but then...
If all I do is wait then maybe what France said will happen, and I'll lose him.
What would be the best way to proceed in this situation?
I'm so confused, I don't even know if France is here to help me out or if he's the competition.
England... how should I go about bringing us closer?
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Is France also after Iggy? Or is he simply there to troll America? And will Iggy stop trying to doge America and allow himself to be more open-minded? Just how will America go about bringing them closer?
So many questions need to be answered! Look out for the next update~
xx-animeXalchemist-xx
