Trinket: noun. 1. a small ornament, piece of jewelry, etc., usually of little value. 2. Anything of trivial value.
It's been 5 days since it happened. Yet, England could still feel the violent blush of embarrassment as though it now stained his skin. He had to gather every ounce of will power not to curl up in a closet and hide there for a few hundred years or so. The other countries would forget by then. Maybe. However, as the days passed that humiliation changed into furious, unadulterated rage. And it was all directed at America.
It all started when England invited America over for their monthly meeting. He didn't know why he invited the git over; he already knew how the entire meeting would go. They would start out talking professionally, America would say something stupid, England would insult his idea, America would then insult his scones, they'd start fighting and then argue about everything and anything until one of them left or they went to bed. Yet, it would feel wrong not to have them.
The meeting, if it could be called that, had been going like always did, America had just insulted England's tea and he was ready to bring up America's coffee rubbish. But then England's phone had rung. Their fight was put on hold as England was forced to talk to his brother.
But America quickly got bored of waiting and decided to explore England's house. The house was extremely old and although visiting millions of times, and getting bored just as many times, there were still many rooms America had not found yet. He was still hoping for the door to Narnia one of these days. Or Hogwarts, that be cool too. And thus, with the thought of magical worlds just waiting to be discovered, America began his adventure.
It wasn't the exploration that caused the problem; no America went on adventures in England's house all the time. It was what he found on the exploration. It was England's most kept secret. He would have guarded that room with his life. No one knew about this room, not France, not his brothers, and certainly not America. And it was supposed to stay that way. But it didn't.
It was England's unicorn room.
When America first saw the pastel colored room he didn't know whether to laugh his guts out or curl up in a corner after realizing this was the man who raised him. He decided to choose the third option. America went in and looked around. There was everything. Plushies, sculptures, paintings, wooden toys, rugs, teacups, wind chimes, trading cards, anything one could think off and it all had unicorns. America was going to stick around a bit longer when he heard England's annoyed yelling and decided his family call was almost over. He high tailed it out of the room and down the stairs, but not before slipping a small glass unicorn into his pocket. The meeting continued normally, with England blissfully unaware that his greatest secret had been reviled.
He didn't learn about it until the next World Meeting. America was in the middle of some idiotic pitch to solve world hunger when he suddenly stopped in the middle of his sentence.
"Hey, dudes. Did you know Britain has a unicorn collection?"
England didn't know what happened after that, he was frozen with shock. Actually he was surprised he didn't pass out. He barely even recognized that everyone had started to laugh. He didn't snap back until he heard Spain burst out laughing after Romano explained what was going on.
England could handle being laughed at by France, he could handle being laughed at by America, he could even handle being laughed at by the entire UN. But when Spain started laughing, that's when the gloves come off. England stood up and sent Spain one of his special pirate glares. Usually it made him cringe and hide under the table. However, this time he just flashed a pirate smirk back. It was a challenge. Just as England was about to leap across the table Germany got the room back under control.
He had put on a calm mask during the rest of the meeting. He was the United bloody Kingdom for the queen's sake; he wasn't going to let such a simple thing run him out of the meeting. England stayed composed and professional, even when France not-so-discreetly threw the word unicorn into his speech a few times. However, his professional mask didn't keep him from running out the door and flying back to London as soon as the meeting was dismissed. He stayed locked in his house, hiding his face in extreme humiliation. Until five days later when his feelings changed.
It took England two hours of angrily drinking and cursing the American idiot out before an old side of England came back out, his revengeful side. That side had been locked away in him around the same time his pirate days ended. Now, it was back out, filling his head with plan after plan to get back at America. And he must say, he like the way he thought.
England's car rolled to a stop a few blocks away from America's house. In his momentary loss of composer many plans had came to mind on how to get revenge. Fortunately, he chose the most legal of them, braking into America's house and finding out his secrets.
He stepped out of his car and adjusted his tie, running through his plan one more time. America may be an idiot but he kept tight security. England walked to the large picket fence that blocked in America's house and easily jumped it. He landed with a thump in a flower garden in the back yard. Silently, England mourned the death of the crushed flowers as he crept closer to the house. America may hate the cold, but he also hated the heat. That's why during the summer he left most of his windows opened or unlocked and the AC cranked up.
England placed his hands on the window frame and smirked as it easily slid up. He crawled in, landing in a crouch. He scanned the hallways for signs of people. With the coast clear England stood up and made his way down the hall. He examined each door thoughtfully.
"Now which one of you bloody doors hold the wankers secrets?" He muttered.
"Mr. America, is that you?"
England cursed, grabbing the first door he saw, scrambling in, and closing the door behind him, just barely missing Lithuania. England was met with a musky smell and a nose full of dust. He clamped a hand over his nose holding in the sneeze threatening to escape. After he was sure Lithuania was gone he let the sneeze out.
"Ah, git. Don't you ever clean?" England grumped as he took a look around the stone room.
It was a storage room, boxes littered the room filled with miscellaneous items all covered in a fine layer of dust. England smirked, there had to be something in here. He began to move around, coughing as he stirred up dust. He searched and searched for something that he could use against America.
England found himself near a pile of children toys; a checker board, and some colorful building blocks. And there in the corner sat a small wooden box. His heart began to thump wildly against his chest. He approached cautiously, as though if he moved to quickly the box would disappear. With shaking hands he picked the box up carefully like it was made of glass. His fingers slid across the still smooth wood as he traced the familiar diamond pattern. His finger dazedly reached the lid and pushed it open. His thumping heart stopped. England stared at the wooded soldiers lined up in two perfect rows. Their paint was chipped and faded but he could still make our each distinctive painted face.
England set the box down and numbly turned away. He clenched his fists and crept out of the musky room. He no longer though about the incident at the meeting room, all he could do was wonder why America would keep something like that.
Funny story, this was supposed to be the 2nd chapter except I hadn't written it yet so I posted Gilly's chapter. I've had this chapter planned and half written for weeks and I only now actually got down to writing it. PROCRASTINATION FOREVER! I really wanted to say that England was in a tux and shades when he broke into America's house. Oh well. Thanks for all the reviews and favorites. :3
Review n' Stuff please