Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia
Warning: This will be a gory story, and there will be character death. The horror and angst should have told you.
Rrriiiinnngggg!
Rrriiiinnnnnnnnnnngggggggg!
!
Rrriiiiinnn-
"Alright already! I'm coming!" America yelled at his phone. Curses rolled off his tongue at whoever thought it kind to at- he almost glared at the awesome watch Japan had given him for his last birthday- 4:23 in the morning. He didn't have to be up for another hour and a half!
His hand groped for the phone he left on the coffee table. "What?" He grumbled into the speaker.
"When I was over at your place, did I leave anything?" England's voice was frantic. America woke up a bit more. The draft in his apartment finished the job.
He yawned into his hand. "Uh, no, not that I'm aware of. Why, what're you missing?"
He could hear the other man clear his throat. His voice was still soft. "My knitting and sewing supplies."
America paused; he was awake right? "I'm sorry, Iggy, could you repeat that? I'm not sure I heard you correctly." He stifled another yawn.
England mistook his silence as America silently laughing and mocking him. "You heard me, you bloody wanker! My kit! Is it there?"
"Woah, calm down, Iggy! It's-"
"Don't call me that!"
"-way too early for you to be yelling at me!"
England, across an ocean and several time zones away, checked his watch. "Oh, sorry about that, lad. My kit is simply full of some valuable materials that I've been saving for a while. I finally get the stomach to use them, and they vanish on me." It was especially infuriating that he'd managed to keep track of them for centuries, only to lose them in the span of three days.
"Well, I haven't seen any strings or pins and needles. But if I do, I'll send them your way."
"Thanks lad. Sorry for the wake-up call." Click!
America laughed at his parting pun, then shivered again as the draft brought another cold gust of air towards his half-naked body. Last time he slept without a shirt in winter.
He trudged over to the billowing curtain, determined to rid his apartment of its chill. America could almost imagine a person hiding in the curtains, what with the way they were moving. But the thought was so absurd, it was banished the instant it entered his head. As suspected, when he pulled the curtains were empty, and his heart calmed some. He really needed to stop watching horror movies before bed.
He opened the screened sliding doors, then drove them hard across their track. When he'd closed them, the curtains remained settled. He must've rid himself of the cold.
America gazed out over Salt Lake City, UT and sighed. Maybe I'll head to the prairie. I need a break from all these lights. It hardly feels like night here. Maybe I'll head to Kansas, the stars are supposed to be really pretty this time of year. And the sunflowers, too. Maybe I'll cut some for Russia, and he'll calm down. Maybe he just hasn't seen any yet this year.
Birds all across Kansas stopped their morning serenade for all of a minute.