It was the next day, around noon, and England was dreading America coming back, because he knew he'll be going home with him. He really doesn't want to have to stay with America for however long it'll be. It's just gonna be sheer torture for England, having to be watched over by America. He can take care of himself. He doesn't need the American's help. He's fine on his own. He always has been...
Is there even an absolute reason for this to have to happen? Does he really need to be watched over? So what if he throws up. It's not like he's going to die from it. Anyway, it helps him. It makes him feel stronger. The people he's around, though, makes him feel otherwise.
But isn't it better than being alone all the time...?
No. It's not. It couldn't be. All it does is make him feel bad about himself. How is that good for his health? That's probably worse than making himself throw up. Being exposed to all those insults couldn't do anything good for him.
It was about 2 when America came by, ready to take him home. England quietly walks behind America as they exit the building. He can feel the tension in the air. Although, it didn't bother him. He can tell America was uncomfortable, though. He smirks a little at that, but the smile vanishes from his face right after.
"It's a good thing I live close by..." America says, trying to break the silence.
Ah, that's right. The meeting had been held near America's home in the US yesterday. So much has happened since yesterday...
England didn't say anything and just kept walking. He wasn't in the mood to talk, especially not to the American.
They decide to walk to America's house, which England didn't mind that much, since America's house was only a few blocks away from the hospital. In fact, England always loved to talk walks around back in his homeland. He loved sightseeing.
Once they got to America's house, England took a sharp breath in. This was it. This is where he'll be spending his time for who knows how long. Great. Just great. He's going to be watched over all the time during the time he's here, and he's definitely not going to enjoy that. He'll basically be treated like a child.
They enter the house. England was surprised when he saw that the house wasn't as dirty as he thought it'd be on the inside. It was actually pretty clean.
Thank goodness.
XxXxX
It's been about a half hour since America had brought England to his house. Ever since they got there, England has been sitting on the couch in America's living room, reading a book.
It was then that America could see how thin England had gotten. His clothes looked too big on him, and he just looked so frail. It made America a little sad. There were bags under England's eyes, and his face looked paler than usual. Also, his hair was very unkempt.
America was grateful that England wasn't showing his new side here so far. He hadn't even glared at America once.
Maybe this will work out, after all.
"Oi, England, did you eat anything for lunch at the hospital today?" he asks.
America notices that England looks hesitant to answer. He obviously didn't eat anything. Then again, what did America expect? That England would all of a sudden start eating normally again? It's not as easy as it seems, is it? If only it was, though...
"Well, then I'll get you something~" America says, acting at least a little happy.
"I don't want your stupid food," England replies coldly.
America sighs. He should've known he'd get a response like that. Not just because England hasn't been eating right lately, but because England hates American food in general. He's always complaining how gross the food in America is, how it's all artificial and fake, which actually isn't completely untrue.
"Would you like some tea, then?" Surprisingly, America did keep some tea around his house, despite not liking it. He has it in case someone that enjoys tea comes over. He knows that not everyone likes coffee like he does.
"I don't want your bloody tea, either!" England snaps, glaring at him.
Well, shit...
If tea, which the Englishman absolutely loves, doesn't work, then America doesn't know what will. England never turns down tea, even if it's American tea, so for him to reject it so harshly...
"England, you have to have something," America says, trying to stay calm. This guy was seriously worrying him. They may be nations, but they still need to eat and drink, just like normal humans do. It's unhealthy not to do so.
England mutters curses under his breath before sighing in defeat. "Fine... Do you have an apple or something?"
American nods happily. Finally. He's actually going to get England to eat something. At least he's making progress.
He goes to the kitchen and gets an apple from a fruit basket he has on the counter. Then he proceeds to cut it into slices and put it on a plate. He goes back into the living room and hands the plate to England, who hesitantly takes it.
I hope this works...
XxXxX
At first, all England did was stare at the plate of sliced apples. He didn't make one move to eat them. Not one move at all. It wasn't until he saw America staring at him weirdly that he decided to finally pick a slice up and start eating it.
It tasted horrible. Just awful. All food did now, actually, except for that one dish at the last meeting. All the other food he had before then tasted bland and wouldn't settle well inside of him. He just could handle it.
After the fourth slice, he just couldn't eat anymore. It tasted too disgusting. He sets the plate down on the coffee table that's in front of them.
"I can't eat anymore..." he says quietly.
He hears America sigh. "Sorry, but I'm not leaving you alone until you finish it."
Dammit, why can't America just let him be? He said he was doing this because he cares, but it seems like he's only doing it to be mean.
England scowls at him before eating the rest. He hated every second of it. It was just too gross.
"Good job, England!" America exclaims cheerfully. Suddenly, the doorbell goes off. Someone's at the front door.
"Oh, I'll be right back. You just wait here," America says before getting off the couch and leaving the living room.
England could feel himself getting sick already.
Oh, bloody hell...
He hurries off the couch and heads into the nearest bathroom, where he throws everything back up into the toilet.