yay
ch 5 is out
sry this took me a bit longer-
but anyway- here's the new chaper- sorry btw if i forget the ' sometimes(i'm writing on pc rn so not everything will be correctly spelled)
also first time i needa include a Tw
TW:
- (mention) throwing up
- Romanos language-
thats it... idk
enjoy
"Today, we've come together once again to gather new informations. Anyone willing to speak?"
Russia nodded. Of course he'd tell what happens near his country.
"Da. Not only the west is sick. Yesterday i heard from Lithuania that my little helpers were sick now aswell."
Japan nodded. This wasnt good. not a bit. The east couldnt get sick aswell. Someone had to make a vaccine fast. No matter how, or what it takes. The sick nations werent getting better, so he heard. And now the east aswell? That couldnt be right... he also worried about the nordics. None of them attended the last meetings. Not even sealand was there to tell everyone of how big of a country he was gonna be in just a few years. Something was off about this whole thing. Maybe, the disease doesnt come from Germany, but from one of them. Maybe they just didnt tell anyone. But theyd have to spill their secrets because sooner or later it would come out anyway, and Japan would make sure someone goes there and clears things up. But for now, he'd focus on whats important. He wanted to visit the sick nations once. Every single one would get a personal visit, close to him or not. That didnt matter. Even after all history that happened, they had to stay together. Of course, Japan would ask for a fitting time. Who was he? America? He was the formal Japan... and deep inside, he really wanted to see his friends again. Just once...
"France! Wake up, I made breakfast..!"
That wasnt good. France adored that England cared so much for him, but making breakfast... ahh no thanks. But then again, its been ages since he'd last tried Britains food, so... why not? Maybe it had changed- NO... note to self; dont eat Englands food.
"France! Dont ignore me, frog face."
A knock on his door. Merde... too late to escape now. France sighed.
"Ah, oui, England.. i see you made me food.. eh- thanks. I'll.. eat it laterrr"
"why? is there a problem? Do you feel sick-?"
How was he gonna explain that. Englands worried gaze laid on him like a cat on its bed, a hand checking his temperature that luckily hadnt gone up.
"ahm... you see, England... your food,.. its uhm..."
He stopped himself. England understood. The hand went back, so did England. The worried look was replaced by.. sadness? He thought England didnt care that much about comments on his food. maybe he did-
"Fine by me then. Starve if you'd like."
He huffed, turning away, the food untouched on France's nightstand. The door slammed shut as the french nation let out a heavy sigh. This was not how he planned his day to begin. Bad... Now he felt guilty. Maybe he should try the food. One bite, not more. He trusted Englands cooking less than Russia, but whatever. He felt miserable now, could it get worse? So, he lifted the fork and took a bite. The food tasted... ... good. No, amazing. That wasnt Englands cooking... right? Now he fet really bad.
(in germany, we say "probieren geht über studieren" - trying (goes) over studying... idk)
As fast as he could, he stood up from his bed. (which is approximately the speed of me getting up every morning... you can imagine- T-T) He'd go apologise and tell England how much his cooking had improved. He'd... whats that sound...? And where was.. England-(?!) France sped up his pace. And by the sounds of it, England was just loosing his meal he'd eaten yesterday.
"Amour...?"
(love)
He knocked on the door. There was no answer other than a moan of pain. Poor Angleterre... the french nation was beginning to worry. Had England caught his sickness now too...? He wanted to find out, see if his friend was alright, what happened... but the only problem was, the isle nation had locked his room. Maybe because he was angry at France and didnt want to see him, or he didnt some of his... magic again... whatever it was, he'd find out soon.
"Angleterre! Open up the door, s'il vous plait..?"
A weak 'no'... he wouldn't let that slide so easily. The knocking got more rapid. France was getting impatient.
"Angleterre, open this door or I'll break it open!"
...
"Alright, fine. If you want it the hard way..."
...
...
Silence. Then, quiet clicking sounds. Aaand... the key fell from the door hole and shortly after, it disappeared under the door. Damnit... (I've always wanted to try this trick but never got to do it-). The door opened, a very worried France entering. Englands appearance didnt please him one bit. Pale, flushed cheeks, sweaty... looking sick. Did he look like this when he left earlier?...
"Are you here to insult my cooking now? If so... you can leave.."
England let himself slide down the wall, pulling his knees up to his head and burying it in them. He didn't want to see France right now. Not like this. And god, this stomachache was killing him slowly. France gave him a soft look, hesitantly closing distance between them.
"Come here, Angleterre..."
"Tomato bastard, I'm back.."
Going to a mall full of people was the worst. The feeling on stares... people glaring at you and you constantly get in touch with someone whos too incompetent to walk straight. Great day to go out. But now he was home, and he should keep up his mood, just for Spain... not for anyone ... except his fratello- but these were the only exceptions. Ever. And for now, he'd manage... now, to the groceries. Very fun, very fun part. It was mostly boring, but he could steal a yoghurt without Spain noticing. As if he'd even get out of bed for now. So, Romano has every right to take a yoghurt, right? And to be honest, he didn't really care. On more of one less, nobody cared for a fucking yoghurt. AND, he bought it from his own money... their shared money, but one of them would eat i anyways... And once the grocery shit was done, he'd check up on his friend.. real quick.
"Spagna...?"
He knocked once. Twice. And just opened the door. (how could he-) The older nation still laid where he did the day before, moving didnt work, he told Romano. And from what he'd seen and heard, this virus is capable of doing anything to anyone, appearently... now, Romano was glad he was doing fine himself. That didnt make the situation better tho - so, he was gonna wake up the idiot and ask questions he believed the spanish nation would ask him if the roles woulve been switched. The difference was, Spain had patience, he... critical- but if it was for the tomato bastard or his fratello, his patience'd expant to a certain level. One thing he forgot when he found out Spain was sick is, that his sleeping schedule also changed. There were about 2 times he can recall when his friend had been sick. That was a good while ago, so dont blame him- slowly, Romano made his way to the, beside the bed positioned, chair and sat down, sinking into thoughts. He didnt like other nations, he despised whoever brought the disease to europe in the first place. He felt anger, sadness and guilt. He wouldnt show it tho- why would he- he was Romano. A sudden voice pulled him out of his thought.
"Roma..."
"ah, finally awake, bastardo... took you long enough."
Oh, a good start. What a greeting.
"Roma, don't be like that to meee..."
The Italian smiled lightly. He loved teasing the Spaniard a bit sometimes. But maybe not when he was sick, not like this. He huffed out a laugh, his hand reaching out to check his friends temperature. Maybe a bit more hot than before, but it was okay. As long as it doesn't make a rapid change over night, it was okay. He sighed, his thoughts full with worry and guilt, sadness... wait- he wasn't worried! He wasnt... no use fooling himself, of course he was. Who wouldn't? Spain had gotten pale over the days... almost weeks, probably because he didn't get sunlight. How was he supposed to? Dizziness and numbness adding to each other wouldn't make one be able to walk anywhere. Maybe Romano would call someone later for that... ger- oh, right.. Portugal? Nah.. he also needed someone for that bastard... ahh this was too much for him. One person couldn't do that alone-
"Romano..?"
Said nation turned his head, thoughts left behind.
"What's troubling you so much?.. is it this?"
The words were kinda slurred, no wonder. Romano sighed, letting himself 'melt' into his chair. Yes, he wanted to say. Of course.
"Lo siento..."
"Che cosa-!? What the fuck are you apologising for-"
"I.. i should've closed the borders.. maybe this wouldn't have happened if.." sigh.
What?- was he- ugh, that dumb Spaniard, how could he blame himself-- oh great, now he's blaming himself more. Too much.
"Shut the fuck up, you idiot! This isn't your fault.. how could you even say that- ugh... I don't understand you sometimes..."
And with that, he hugged the spanisch country as best as he could from his position. Silence, maybe the idiot had finally understood...
Sorry this took me longer than expected. I apologize deeply.
Anyway, have a great weekend, ly all 3
