Arthur Kirkland

Montreal, Quebec

December 2, 2163

I could remember up until 1967... my memories were returning faster than anyone could've expected. I could remember how I used to feel about America... and that was exactly why I was sitting in a pub, at the bar, drinking.

I was only faintly aware of the fact that I was sitting between two of my brothers, one older and one younger. Erin and Pattie, one on either side. Erin was trying (and succeeding) to talk my ear off, while Pattie was nearly as silent as the grave which led me to believe that the both of them had been drinking for much longer than I had (at least, this evening).

I was taking my time, barely had a buzz, not even on my third pint yet. It was so far from the norm that some of the other nations were staring at me. I ignored them, thinking on what America had said... 'Ithink you're the best frienda guy could ask for.' I remembered, 'friend'... so, we're nothing but friends...?

I gave up on staying at least-partially sober and finished off my drink before ordering another... and another... and another; I lost count and by then I'd lost all self control. I sighed when I realized what a fool I was. Naught but an old fool.

...if I'm an old fool... he's a baby-faced git... I thought, laughing a bit.

My little brother was leaning on me, probably unaware of me even being there, and My older brother was apologizing, in slow steady Irish, for a lot of things, most of which I failed to remember. He was also murmuring in soft German... I would try to remember that and tell either Ludwig or Gilbert about it; possibly both.

I stood up shakily and was once again made aware of the fact that I drink too much. Distantly, I worried about how I would get back to my room.

I left the pub, anxious to get away from my eternally vexing demon. I'd lost so much ground recently... I was so close to giving the terrible habit up... but then... America.

Swaying slightly, I walked down the street, then...

I woke up in a bed, hugged uncomfortably close to another person. I squirmed a bit and could smell their breath; Chocolate and something even more sweet. I coughed, faintly aware of the other person hugging me tighter.

"Salut, Angleterre..." whispered a voice in my ear.

"D-dammit, frog, what am I doing here?"

"Oh my god, I can't believe you fell for that!" the voice laughed. I rolled over and found myself staring into a pair of indigo eyes.

"M-matthew...?" I said, shock all over my face.

"Oui, C'est moi," he said, laughing at my dumbstruck expression.

"and your breath smells like Swiss chocolate, why...?"

"I was... talking with Liechtenstein earlier and she gave me some to try..."

"Y-you really scared me..." I said, almost without thinking.

"Aw, I'm sorry, Iggy... I know, I already said it before... but I love you just as much as America does... maybe even more than he does... definitely more than Papa does..." the other nation said, smiling shyly, his (faintly glowing) eyes half covered by his dark blond hair.

I blushed, "...America doesn't love me... he said it himself... we're nothing more than friends..."

"Oh, really? It's his loss, then..." Matthew murmured, an offhand look on his face. "...England... do you... hate France? I mean... do you not trust him...? ...or just dislike him...?"

"...I don't... hate France. I... sort of trust him... but not as much as I trust my brothers. And... I don't... dislike him. I rather think he's likeable but fairly vulgar..."

"...and you love America...?"

"...yes..."

"More than you love me..." it was a statement, not a question.

"...more than my own life, Matthew..." I responded.

"...I know for a fact that he doesn't love you like I do... but I'll tell you what you should try..." Matthew said.

I stared at him.

"...Alfred is my brother; I know him better than I know myself. Al isn't an idiot like he pretends to be; unobservant, he may be, but a fool, he is not. That's the first thing to remember." I nodded to confirm that I understood. "He likes people who are out of the ordinary... for example, he prefers to talk to Goths and Nerds over Jocks and Divas. If you want his attention, be different from the norm; completely different from how you are usually. That's the second thing to remember." I nodded again. "He's loud, and you're quiet; that could prove to be a problem. Be louder and less like, well... me. That's the third and final thing to remember."

I nodded yet again, "I understand."

"...I wonder how you'll do it..."

"I do, too," I said, my expression genuinely perplexed.

"...it's too late at night for you to be thinking about this... go ahead and go back to sleep; I'll get you back to Peter's room after you fall asleep, less than two shakes of a lamb's tail."

I sighed, "...alright..." I said. I was still rather tired, and I had very little interest in discussing America.

"Bon nuit, Arthur," Matthew said, smiling softly.

~.oOo.~

I woke up feeling angry at the world and craving a smoke. Remembering (albeit, distantly) that I'd quit years ago, I set out in search of some nation that smoked and would possibly let me bum a fag. Cuba, Spain, France, Ireland, etc; not a single one.

I ran into America while on my out of the building, and he grinned. "Hey, England!" he ran up and hugged me around my shoulders.

Bloody Fuck! I thought, my eyes wide. I felt my face heat up and I had to struggle to maintain composure. Pull yourself together, Albion, you idiot! You're just friends; nothing more! "Hullo, America."

He pulled back and began to speak, "You look kinda-" I cut him off, something occurring to me just then.

"Oy, Fucktard. Can I bum a fag?"

"Eh... what?"

"You know, A 'fag'?"

"Oh! You mean a smoke! Er... I've got some, but I thought you quit a while ago... I mean, you were pressuring me to quit, an' all."

And never have I been so glad that you rarely if ever listen to me, I thought. "I need a smoke, just now... I can't explain why, but I need one."

"Um... Sure, take 'em all, I guess; I've been planning to quit for a few months, now," America took a package of cigarettes out of his jacket pocket and handed it to me.

"Thank you, America." I said, slipping the package into my back pocket.

"New clothes?"

I looked down at what I was wearing; A dark green t-shirt with black jacket, ripped black jeans, black converse. I'd thrown on whatever I could find before I left, but I didn't remember a colour scheme... I shrugged, trying to cover my confusion, "I guess."

"Cool!" He said, grinning brightly. "You look like a punk, or something! The only thing missing is dyed hair, but you look cool without it!"

...the yankee's geeking out on you, Albion. I thought, looking up into his eyes.

I started to walk away and the Wanker followed me. He went on and on about whatever it was that he was talking about, and I drew a cigarette out of the pack, snapping my fingers and lighting it with magic flames. I blew smoke in the American's face and laughed when he screwed up his eyes against the offending scent (because I felt like it).

"What the fuck, Iggy?" He demanded, his cheeks twinged with a bit of pink. "What's up with you?"

"I felt like being an asshole; do you have some kind of problem with that?" I smirked at him.

"N-no, it's just kinda weird is all... you're not normally this..." he broke off and flushed scarlet.

"'This'...?"

"...I can't think of the word..."

"...fair enough, American Idiot. I'm goin' out. Bye," I continued on and America followed me... AGAIN.

...if he's gonna follow you, let him, Albion. It's not like he's being annoying... I thought. I was getting flustered and irritated; I had no idea what to do about it... I would normally use a biting remark or some such, but I felt hurt over what he'd said two days previous.

...he said it himself... we're nothing but friends... and I have no reason to let him be around me if he doesn't love me...

I gave up on being civil. I turned and shrieked in the American's face, "GO AWAY!"

Shock showed all over his face, "W-what?"

"LEAVE ME THE FUCK ALONE, YA MANKY WANKER! WHAT THE BLOODY HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU? BLOODY FUCK; I UNDERSTAND CHASING SOMEONE YOU LIKE BUT I KNOW THAT YOU DON'T LIKE ME THAT WAY! SOD OFF AND LEAVE ME THE HELL ALONE!"

I ran off as fast as my legs could carry me, tears burning in my eyes; I couldn't let that Wanker see me cry. I had to get away...

...and I just hoped that he wasn't following me...

A/N~ ...this took me quite a bit longer than expected.

So, we see America and that STUPID thing he said, from England's POV. America should have just kept his mouth shut.

In response to Rawkziee's review, I'm developing my writing style to fit America, but if I could get some suggestions for how I could write better as America... that would be awesome.

People who review be awesome; I use your suggestions. People who do nothing be evil; I make you be stared at by Germany and Sweden.

...but still...

I love chu all for reading this and making me feel loved...

~Mini-Bonus~

France: Je t'aime et J'espère que vous appréciez l'histoire de Charlie~! (I love you and I hope you are enjoying Charlie's story~!)

Nihon: Watashi wa fūransū ni dōi suru- (I agree with France-)

Suisse: Homme-toi ou je vais vous battre avec mon prix de la paix! (Man up or I'll beat you with my peace prize!)