Hey, hey! Going to Funderland tonight with my flatmates; so excited! Anyway, thanks to everyone that reviewed!

Eight: Diary Confessions

Oh dear God, someone kill me now.

The tapping of his foot was getting steadily louder and I wanted to tell him to shut up the fuck up but I couldn't. The words were stuck in my throat and I couldn't even look up. Not only because he was looking at me but the whole world was. Literally.

I idly wondered if now would be a good time to lunge at the frog. This was his fault after all. This was the last time I ever let him stay at house when he gets drunk in London…

"England." The voice is stern and I feel my face heating up even more because I know he is also embarrassed.

I dare to raise my eyes, not at him but to the conference room behind us. And there is France, standing beside my sister, both trying their hardest not to burst into laughter. My eyes narrow on them and I take at a step forward.

"There's no point trying to blame this on France. You shouldn't let him sleep in your bed." America drawls out. This time his voice is sarcastic, almost jealous? I can't think of anything to say and so splutter at him.

"He was not sleeping in my bed! He was in the spare room and snuck in, in the middle of the night."

America raises his eyebrows.

"No, I mean, I was sleeping! Nothing happened! He came in, searched through all my possessions like some cat-burglar and then stole that."

I shakily point at the object of my intense embarrassment, resting in America's hands.

America hesitates, staring at me for a long moment and I feel like the world has just disappeared and there is only him and I. America and England. Together.

And then he opens his mouth and ruins everything.

"I think we should read a little extract out loud, wouldn't you agree,' turning on his heel, he glances at my backstabber of a best friend, 'France?"

My face has obviously turned to one of upmost horror because my brother stands up from his position at the far back of the room, where the United Kingdom usually gather, and he coughs to get everyone's attention.

"I don't really think that's very fair America; it's kinda cruel."

I honestly think that is the nicest thing Scotland has ever said on my behalf and I swell with pride.

"Well you wouldn't be saying that if you knew some of the stuff he wrote about you in here."

My gaze shifts back to America in outrage.

"That's a goddamn lie, you bastard! I never write anything bad about my siblings in there."

America simply opens the book and turns a few pages and I behold that his eyes actually gleam and I shiver.

I don't think I ever wrote anything bad about Scotland…or anyone in my family for that matter-

"Dear Diary, today Scotland went over to Ireland's house and told me that he likes her better than me. Well, that's fine; he can go live with her. Cos when he comes crawling back on his knees, just like Ireland will, I think I might just kick him in the face and turn away."

I feel my jaw drop at the sentence. I only vaguely remember that diary entry because I woke up the next morning after writing it, with a splitting hangover. I was completely off my face when I wrote that!

I quickly look to Scotland, whose entire face had darkened and he is glowering at me ferociously.

"Fuck you England."

And he sits down, turning away from me in disgust.

I glare at my former charge and wonder why I spent my time writing down my feelings in that diary if he was just going to laugh in my face. My embarrassment is subsided now by another emotion; a swift stab in my chest tells me I feel hurt by this revelation that America may not feel for me as I do for him. And why should he? After everything that has happened between the two of us, I would expect nothing more than hostile civility.

I put my thoughts on a backburner as I look to my sister for aid and she just stares back at me, like she hardly sees me. She looks poised to articulate something but then decides against it and snaps her mouth shut while looking away. Traitor…

Seeing that Scotland is furious with me, Wales is too busy sleeping and Northern Ireland is acting like she doesn't know who I am, America grins triumphantly before turning to page one of my diary and I bite back a scream. How? How can he be so ridiculously cruel? Laughing at my feels?

"Now, where we were we? Ah, yes, ahem." He clears his throat and the room silences immediately, becoming so quiet I wonder if everyone can hear my heart hammering through my chest, "Dear Diary, something terrible has happened. It's the worst thing imaginable. I have fallen in love. In love! Me! And do you know who with? God, I cannot believe it myself but it is A-"

"Please. Don't."

I don't even realise it was I who actually spoke until I see everyone looking at me. I can feel my face is twisted in a bad attempt to stop myself from crying like some child.

America is looking at me with the weirdest expression and a moment later, his face hardens and he drops the diary on the ground and bounds out of the room, barking out some sentence about 'break' and 'meet back here in two hours'. No one questions it and everyone gets up and leaves quickly, muttering about what had just happened.

I bend down to pick up the diary and I frown. What the hell was that all about? I shrug. At least he didn't say anything. And for that, I am grateful.

Northern Ireland approaches me and I sigh and raise my hand.

"Please Emily, not now."

She looks at me like she did before but this time with the faintest of smiles gracing her features.

"I thought you might like to have a wee look at this."

She hands me a book with stars and stripes plastered across the cover and immediately I recognise the untidy scrawl written on the front of it. I gaze up at my sister in disbelief.

"Is this-?"

"Page 12."

I frown but open it unsteadily and turn to page 12 and notice that it's dated only two days ago.

"Dear Diary. France visited me again today. He says he can't think of anymore ideas to get England to realise that I like him. I mean geez, what does it take to win a guy over? I'm freakin' America, for cryin' out loud! I've tried everything; chocolates, flowers, dinner, picnics and he still doesn't get it! I'm going out of my mind here! I think that-

Holy. Crap. Northern Ireland just rang and she says that England has a diary too! If I can get my hands on it, I'll be able to find out exactly what he likes and then he'll finally understand. It's perfect! France just said he's going to go over tomorrow and pretend to be really drunk and then snatch the book when England's asleep! Wish me luck!"

I close the diary, dumbstruck. I'm only half aware of the fact that my sister kinda screwed me over again but she meant well; she always does.

"Northern Ireland, I-"

She cuts across me, giving me a small push towards the door.

"What are you standing around here, talking to me for? Go get 'im, tiger."

She winks and me and with a grin at her, I turn on my heel and sprint from the conference room, off to find the American who, amazingly, loves me back.

D'awwwww! Hope you liked, please review! Thanks LucyMoon1992 x