Blue, Red, and White Roses: The Unattainable, Love, and Innocence Parrot: Obnoxious Person Winter: Depression
England threw his bag down along with his coat on the floor. He felt like he was walking through water as he made his way to the old leather couch. The World Meeting had been beyond stressful. Germany's yelling, Italy's whining, America's rambling… America…
England was in his study. There was a silver-grey glow from the floor to ceiling windows, and the trees outside were bare and glittering with ice. Just the image made him shiver.
On his desk there was a crystal vase, icier looking than the trees. It was filled with red, white, and blue roses. England approached them and touched them gently. They were perfectly symmetrical, almost too perfect to be real.
England was admiring them, drifting off to a peaceful reflection, when he heard a loud call. He spun, falling back on his desk as he looked around the room. With surprising stealth, he made his way to the corner where he had his old sword displayed. He took it in his hand and it felt like hugging an old friend. England made his way into the middle of the room, jumping a little at another sharp noise.
There was a glaringly bright parrot sitting on his mantelpiece. It squawked again. It was mocking him, reminding him of what he did not have and what he never would. It was haunting him, more phantom than even Poe's raven.
"GO!" England yelled, brandishing his sword. The parrot did not move. "Go, go, go! Leave! Please…"
England felt his eyes burn. He was sick, alone, and scared. Then he felt warm arms wrap him up. He was startled and swung around, pressing the tip of the blade to whoever's throat. England's breath caught… America…
"America… What the hell are you doing here?" England whispered. He stumbled back a little. America looked at him blankly. "Get out of my house," warned England, trying to look menacing but feeling like he was failing miserably. He looked at the man who had been like his little boy, his brother, his soldier, and now someone he was in irrevocably in love with.
America grabbed England and yanked the sword out of his hand. It fell to the ground with a clatter. He grabbed England with a bruising grip and threw him clear cross the room towards his desk. He landed on it and he heard the vase shatter as it was pushed to the ground. America grabbed his ankles, pulling him closer and ripping of his clothes. He kissed England's mouth roughly, shoving his tongue in.
England started struggling and fighting, but America was too strong. He ended up letting go, blushing at how America's aggressiveness felt amazing to him. America yanked him off the desk, turned him around, and slammed his head onto it with an iron grip. He could feel that America was suddenly naked as he arched over his body to kiss England's neck.
America's fingers traced England's lips before plunging them in. He took them out and roughly jammed them inside England. He yelled out in a combination of pain and pleasure. America made sure he was ready before he entered England suddenly.
The feeling was strange. America filled him to the hilt, pressing against his prostate. England screamed as lights flashed around him. America pulled out and slammed back in. The pain was mixing with pleasure and England felt tears running down his eyes. England realized he had been pressing himself against his desk, the hard wood taking care of his painfully hard erection.
He came loudly on it, splashing it with cum and riding out his violent orgasm. The room began to spin and the feeling of America coming was getting fainter and fainter.
England wiped the tears from his eyes and buried his face into the couch. No, he would never probably ever get to kiss America. He would never be held in his arms or be able to look him in the eyes and tell him he loved him, but...
"If only in my dreams," he sobbed.
~~~~~~~ That came out sort of depressing. Poor England.. He's no fool. He knows America won't ever fall for him. Or maybe... This is a very special story! It's a present to Vannah for her birthday! Happy B-day! She wanted America to be a little rough. Sorry it came out so surreal and depressing... Please review, my little sweet peas. It shall make me ever so happy. I don't know who will be next! Maybe some SeaLat perhaps?
