"I wanted to tell you something…"
"I, too, wanted to tell you something…" I whispered back before I could stop myself.
"When I saw you…"
"At the world meeting…"
"I just wanted to say…"
"I – I – I…" I stumbled over the words. He leant his face towards mine…
"What exactly is going on here?"
I jumped violently at the sound of Big Brother's voice, although England himself didn't seem shocked. He straightened up and smiled jovially at Big Brother, who was scowling fit to light a fire.
"We were discussing our national anthems," he said smoothly. I nodded vigorously. Big Brother stared hard at England, and then at me, then back at England before taking his hand off his gun and putting a protective arm around me.
"Come and talk to the other guests, Lili," Big Brother said sternly before leading me away. I turned to catch a last glimpse of England. He was looking slightly downcast, watching me and Big Brother leave – I was heartbroken to see him so alone. So I rounded on Big Brother.
"Why did you do that?" I demanded.
"Sister, you don't understand!" he said exasperatedly. "All he wants is to expand his empire! He controlled America and Canada and India and the Seychelles! He just wants to colonise you!"
"And what if I want to be colonised?" I hissed angrily before I could stop myself.
We stood together in a stony silence.
"You're in love with him."
I didn't reply and stared at my green shoes. I didn't deny it.
Big Brother pushed me onto one of the couches.
"Stay there and out of trouble."
I stared resolutely at the ground. I couldn't believe I had admitted my secret to Big Brother. And now he probably hated me. I shut my eyes, feeling tears welling. I didn't even notice before his presence was gone and replaced by that of another.
"Hey, Liechtenstein," came a soft voice with an American-sounding accent – far too soft to be America.
"Hello Canada," I replied quietly, lifting my head. Canada was standing where Big Brother had been. He was wearing a white shirt with a brown jacket, but it didn't look overly formal. He looked comfortable; which was more than could be said for me.
"You recognised me!" he smiled happily. I tried to smile back, but the corners of my mouth were tugged down by impending tears. I held them in resolutely, but I knew that my emotions were clear on my face.
"Oh, what's wrong?" he said gently, sitting next to me.
"I – I – Big B-B-Brother – I – He – hates me!" I stuttered, willing the tears to stay in. Canada's soft features became an expression of sorrow and he put a hand on my shoulder.
"Your brother doesn't hate you," he told me quietly. "No matter what you did. What did you do?"
"I – I – I fell in love," I tripped over the words.
Canada looked slightly surprised but took it in his stride. "Well, your Big Brother would certainly get worked up about that!" He squeezed my shoulder. "You'll make up. Two siblings as close as you are will always make up, no matter what." Then he smiled and asked, "Just out of interest, who is the lucky man?"
"England…" I blushed.
"Ah," Canada chuckled. "Well, he's not a man to give up. He'll fight for you, you wait and see. England's a gentleman at heart."
He must have known that would cheer me up. I wiped my eyes and smiled at him. His stray curl was adorable – I would pull it but I had heard the rumours about stray hairs…
"I got you a present," he said shyly, digging into his pocket.
"You shouldn't have!" I exclaimed.
The box he drew out had a small label shaped like a maple leaf. Congratulations from Canada and Kumajirou, it read. The box was square shaped and plain, so I couldn't have any hint of what was inside.
"Open it!" Canada said excitedly.
Inside was a shiny black gadget. It was almost square with rounded sides, with a large screen and lots of tiny buttons. I realised that the buttons were keys, like on a computer keyboard.
"It's a Blackberry," Canada said proudly. "It's a newest phone that I've released. It's very high tech – internet browser, email, the lot. And I invented it myself!"
"It's… amazing…" I breathed. And it was!
"Originally it was for both you and Switzerland, but under the circumstances I think it would be forgivable if you kept it a secret for a while." Canada winked at me, and then stood up and walked away suddenly.
I pocketed the Blackberry. I was still angry with Big Brother, and was perfectly content to keep this secret from him. I really fancied some cheese fondue, actually, recalling that I'd been sidetracked by Italy and Germany on my last attempt. The mere moments before England had appeared. I shut my eyes, yearning to return to those golden minutes… When I opened them again, there were two people standing so close that I had to stifle a scream.
"It's the birthday girl," said the quiet, humming voice of Russia. I briefly considered running away, but decided against it. Swallowing my fear, I stared up at his childish face, that tiny secretive smile, the ever-present scarf. He was over a foot taller than me, and my eyes were roughly level with the bottoms of the medals that adorned the chest of his military uniform. Belarus was clinging to his arm, wearing a fitted black dress that clung in all the right places – I felt a flash of envy as I though of my non-existent curves. She scowled at me, and I saw the hand that wasn't attached to Russia was in her pocket. Holding her knife, no doubt.
"It's not really my birthday…" I mumbled, unwilling to correct the giant.
"Yeah, get it right!" cried America. He bobbed up from behind Russia and Belarus, clearly high on some sugary food, and slung an arm around my shoulders. I shivered at the touch – it reminded me all too fiercely of England. He was a brave man to be contradicting Russia, especially with Belarus glaring at him with a vengeance that would have probably have the Baltic Nations sobbing in fear.
"Why're you wearing England's jacket?" America asked loudly, pulling at the soft material. I hunched into myself, unwilling to answer. "Is it about that thing at the world meeting?"
His wide blue eyes stared hard into mine. You saw? I wanted to scream. He must have seen it in my eyes, because he nodded subtly.
"Don't bother her," chided Russia, handing me a glass of clear liquid. "This is special, from my house." He carried on talking as my gaze drifted to the side… I saw a flash of choppy blonde hair and a little bubble of hope welled up. Maybe England would come back…?
"…So drink up, Liechtenstein!" finished Russia, smiling expectantly. Feeling guilty that I hadn't been listening, I took a quick but draining sip, managing to empty the glass in one gulp.
And with that – my world began to swirl with black. I saw a flash of white on my left before I stumbled and fell into strong, waiting arms.
I could dimly hear America crying, "Dude, you can't give vodka to a little girl!" and another voice saying, "Yeah, 'cause that is, like, totally not, like, cool," (Poland? Probably Poland) and the low rumble of Russia replying. My face was turned into a white shirt that smelled of rain and sugar. Tears from the strongest alcohol I'd ever drunk were tracking down my face, before being wiped away by an achingly familiar long white finger.
"Liechtenstein?" the clipped accent, edged with worry, floated into my ear like sweet music.
"England," I breathed.
His face swam into focus. Eyes wide, lips set in a hard line. He held up a hand.
"How many fingers am I holding up?"
"Two," I whispered, bringing my small hand up to reach his. He took my hand and kissed my palm before straightening me up, still supporting me around the waist.
"I think your brother has noticed the little ruckus," whispered England, his breath hot on my ear.
"Don't go," I mumbled, leaning in toward him. So what if Big Brother saw? He knew anway…