Hey everyone! So cos its April's Fools Day in two days I decided to do something funny with it so enjoy this chapter!

Thank you to everyone who reviewed the last chapter- guys, you're completely awesome!

Thirty-Six: April Fools.

England spotted him at the counter of the bar all the nations were currently in, his broad shoulders cloaked in that ridiculous bomber jacket and hunched over a large mug most likely to be a cup of coffee. Glee stirred in the pit of England's stomach, mixed with anticipation and a touch of anxiety. His fingertips were on fire as he searched through his bag, pulling out the necessary tools of destruction without taking his eyes from the nation.

England crept forward on tiptoes, ignorant of the strange looks that other patrons were giving him, staying low so not even France, on the other side of the counter, would see him.

The two men seemed to be having a serious, in-depth discussion. It was perfect. He would be so distracted he would never know what hit him.

A cackle escaped England's lips; he choked it back down.

He reached the safety of the counter, and there his target sat, unmoving, not even drinking his coffee—no, he realized with some surprise. It was a cup of tea in front of him, and- was that a rose?

England frowned at the rose, then at the two cups of tea, and then thought...

Mmm, Tea.

He shook his head and quickly closed the distance to his stool with the stealth of a ninja. America's voice was low and deep above him, but the words were mostly jumbled up with the noisy bar. England was glad that the chaos also drowned out the paper that crinkled in his hand as he raised his handmade sign toward England's back. Ok, so he was being extremely childish but he didn't care. He was just getting America back for doing the exact same thing to him the other day.

"It has to be today," he heard America say. "I can't take this anymore."

England froze, his fingers mere millimetres from his back. He sounded upset. He sounded almost miserable.

England gulped and hardened his resolve. So what if he was? Had America ever cared if he was upset? If he was miserable?

Gritting his teeth, he stuck the sign to America's back with a piece of pre-cut cello-tape, pressing it gently but firmly on the jacket.

He didn't stir.

England breathed a sigh of relief.

"I'm not saying you shouldn't," said France. "I just think you should go about this a little differently. You know, ease into it. Maybe start by just being nice for once. Otherwise, I'm just worried he might not take you seriously."

England loitered behind America's stool, torn between the need to escape, and his growing curiosity. What a strange conversation they were having... But no, he dared not be in America's presence today. He was too delighted with his brilliant plan to let a confrontation with the idiot ruin it for him.

Turning on his heels, he began to waddle away.

"Not take me seriously?" America laughed, but it was humourless. "How could he not take me seriously? I'm in love with him."

England squeaked and halted. The floor churned beneath him and he blindly reached for the leg of a stool to steady himself.

America was in love?

His heart thumped.

As in... in love, in love?

His lungs burned.

Was that even possible?

"That's the thing, America. Right now he thinks you hate him. If you were just to go up to Angleterre and say 'Surprise! I'm actually in love with you!' what do you expect him to say?"

England clapped a hand to his mouth.

"Well, I expect him to laugh, but what other choice do I have? I feel like if I have to go another day without him knowing—"

England shot to his feet. "You're in love with me?"

America and France both started and gaped at the Brit. America snatched the rose off the counter and hid it behind his back. England barely noticed.

America said nothing. Just stared, open-mouthed, as England stared, open-mouthed, back at him.

"Well?"

Silence.

"Don't bother trying to deny it," he said, shaking a finger at him. "I heard everything."

America blinked. Closed his mouth. Gulped. His eyes slid over to France, who shrugged, then back to England. "Um..."

The green-eyed nation quirked an eyebrow.

"Ha!"

England jumped at his outburst, and watched, dazed, as America's look of terror and uncertainty dissolved into a broad grin.

"April fools!" he yelled. Then he jumped off the stool and half-sauntered, half-ran, toward the exit.

England watched him go, his eyes attached to the crimson rose hidden, but not really hidden, behind America's back. That, and the sign he'd thought was so funny that morning.

I'M SECRETLY IN LOVE WITH ENGLAND.

Then France saw it and burst out laughing, and England couldn't help but smile too.

In love or not, it was still pretty darn funny.

Hehe! Hope you liked! Cheers LucyMoon1992 x