Canada pulled a bottle of syrup out of his pocket and reached for the teacup. He stopped when he felt a bloodchilling aura. He raised his eyes and weakly met England's gaze. The dark aura surrounding England, the stiff way he held his crossed leg and his teacup, the tense line in his jaw, and the deadly glare he was giving Canada all set off warning bells in Canada's brain. He froze, knowing one wrong move could end his life. Finally England spoke, and his tone lowered the degree of the room several degrees. "Canada. What are you doing." He phrased it like a question, but said it like a statement. Canada managed a nervous smile. "I was just going to sweaten my tea." He offered weakly. England extended his picky finger in the direction of the sugar bowl, and without moving or taking his eyes off Canada and said sternly. "The sugar is right there."

Canada hesitated. He sweetened everything with maple syrup. "I kinda thought I would just-" he began, his voice dwingling under England's glare. "Don't tell me you were going to add that wretched syrup to your tea?" England asked, and Canada suddenly wanted to hide. "N-no..." Canada gave way. "Good. Because anyone who would commit such a travesty against tea in my house would quickly learn to deeply regret it." England's tone maintained a steady chill. "I'll use sugar." Canada said quickly, reaching for the sugar bowl. England relaxed, but not without a final warning. "No more than a teaspoon at most. Any more will ruin your earl grey." Canada bit back a protest. Canada liked his stuff almost overly sweet.

He decided against his protest and simply added a heaping teaspoon to his cup, which England frowned at, but let go. "Would you like some lemon juice for that?" England offered, back to his usual tone, now relaxed and calm sipping his tea. Lemon juice? Canada threw a glance at him to see if he was joking. He didn't appear to be, so Canada simply said "no thanks." He sipped his tea and wondered if it be amiss to request milk, but decided he would rather drink it as then risk upsetting England. As Canada gently sipped his tea, casting cautious looks at England from time to time, his brother made his appearance.

America came barging in, loudly as always, a spotted the tea pot on the table and promptly poured himself a cupful. Canada watched him reach fr the sugar bowl, wondering if he should perhaps warn him, but America had already dumped the whole sugar bowl into his cup. He then proceeded to down the rather thick mixture in one go. "Ah, that hit the spot!" He sighed with relief. "Coffe would be bet-" He was cut off by a loud bang. He threw himself backwards and barely avoided the bullet. "What the hell?" He said, throwing a wide-eyed glance at England, who was fuming, almost as much as the smoking pistol.

"HOW DARE YOU TREAT TEA LIKE THAT?" England snarled angrily, cocking the gun again. The murderous aura was back, and stronger than before, and America stood like a deer in headlights in front of England's raging form. He met Canada's eyes from where Canada was cowering behind England's back, and Canada mouthed one word to him.

"RUN." America bolted for the door as England fired at his heels.