England POV

I just laid there, looking up at the ceiling. At least, that is what it looked like to others. I was thinking about America. His sparkly blonde hair, his brilliant blue eyes, that smelly stupid bomber jacket he insisted on wearing. It was almost as if I loved him, I thought to myself. But that couldn't be true, I'm in love with France. Still, why do I keep thinking about America. What is happening to me.

I heard footsteps coming closer, pulling me from my thoughts. It was probably America. 'Good morning sunshine, how's your head? Did you sleep well?' Yep it was America. I flinched at the loudness of his voice, a headache formed itself. 'I'm fine America, I slept fine,' I replied. Nothing in this statement was true. I slept worse than I normally do and the headache that formed was starting to worsen too. America said something and gave me some pills. I really didn't pay attention to what he had said, but I figured that the pills were most likely to be painkillers.

We went downstairs after America had given me some time to change. He gave me some filthy tea. It tasted like dirt mixed with coffee. America looked kind of sad when I told him what I thought of his tea. I could see him hide the hurt look by grinning. I really ought to be nicer to the lad.

Someone had informed both our bosses that we were occupied by other things so we got less than half the work we normally get. All of the paperwork was finished before I knew it, leaving the both of us in a comfortable silence. I wondered where the other guy who lived in this house was, Canada was it? I was worried however, that if I broke the silence, it would never return, so I kept my mouth shut.

America suddenly walked away. He returned after what would be 2 minutes at most. He was carrying a book and a dozen comics. He gave me the book. 'I thought you might be bored so I got you a book,' he said, grinning slightly. It was a very nice gesture, and a pretty good book too, so started reading. The story absorbed me, and soon I forgot where and who I was.

Time went on. I stopped reading when a slight headache invaded my thoughts. That is when I remembered something. America wasn't playing videogames, nor was he watching tv. Normally the American would be nagging about how he wanted to do one or the other. How unusual. I decided it was best to ask. Turned out that the chap just wanted to help me, I couldn't look at screens, or at least not to much, so he figured it wouldn't be fair if he did. How nice of him.

I started reading again, only to be disturbed by a slamming door. Canada didn't seem like a door slammer so I looked at America, confusion probably visible on my face. America didn't seem to understand either and went to look on Canada.

My phone vibrated and I checked to see what it was. It was France. I should be enthralled but I just wasn't. I checked the message. "Arthur, I know Canada is with you. I am afraid that I fucked up. It would probably be best to leave him alone. Please don't tell America that I am the reason that Matthew is sad, he'll kill me." The message said. I sighed, but stated walking towards where I saw America run of to.

It took only a bit to convince America to leave the crying Canadian alone. I told him we could go get something to eat, so we went outside, only to bicker about where to eat. I wanted to go to a proper restaurant while America insisted on going to some kind of fast food restaurant. This arguing made my headache grow once again, so I gave in. I'll just have to eat a salat or something. I'll never eat some greasy hamburger of sort.

America suddenly seemed to realise something and turned to me. 'Say Arthur, what restaurant did you have in mind?' he asked. I was shocked, I thought he wanted to go get fast food. What is going on. America chuckled, probably because of my expression. I probably looked hilarious. 'Uhm, ah, I-I thought that new pasta restaurant would work' I stuttered. Why am I stuttering, what the bloody hell is going on. America agreed so we started walking towards the restaurant. We walked in a comfortable silence, which was only broken by our footsteps and a occasional car driving by.

The restaurant turned out to be as nice as I thought it would be and we both left feeling satisfied and full of food. We had taken some food with us so Canada had something to eat as well. I really hope that everything is well for the poor boy. I have no idea what France did to him, but it seemed to have broken the lad.

We came home to Canada sitting on the couch. His eyes were still puffy but it seemed that he had already calmed down enough to talk. America immediately started to bombard the Canadian with questions, but Canada wouldn't answer him. 'Canada, we have some pasta for you if you like. Maybe we can play a game after you finish eating. Something like monopoly would be nice wouldn't it?' I said, trying to get America to shut up and drop the subject. Canada looked relieved and nodded. He took the bag of food from me and started warming it. America said he'd go and get the game. Looks like I've got a long night ahead of me…

Yay, monopoly