This is the last of the prequel chapters. I promise. Regular programming with resume next chapter. Either way, here's chapter 0.875.
Enjoy! ;)
Ireland was exhausted. Perhaps that was the wrong word for it, but he was too worn out to bother trying to find another word. This exhaustion was the reason he was left as the last person in the meeting room, the last country letting the door click shut behind them as they left him alone in the room.
He sighed deeply, pushing himself up from his desk and sluggishly collecting his things. Part way through his task, though, a phone buzzed on the table. A phone that wasn't his.
He wandered over to it, picking it up and frowning at the message on the screen.
From: Scotland
To: Me
Is your meeting over yet?
Ireland frowned at it, assuming the phone belonged to England, judging by the picture of him, Canada and America, the former two looking less than pleased at being squeezed into the shot, as his background. He vaguely remembered England complaining about it, but he'd never changed it. He shook his head, shrugging to himself, he was too tired to care why Scotland cared if the meeting was over. He probably had some work or something he needed England's help with or-
The phone buzzed again.
From: Scotland
To: Me
Call me when it is. I miss you.
Ok, now he cared.
Why the fuck did Scotland miss him? Was he sick? Imprisoned? Brainwashed?
Oh god! England had finally succeeded in brainwashing them! Thank god he had gotten out when he did! Who knows, it could have been him who had been England's guinea pig- Holy shit, wait! What if he got to North! That bastard wouldn't dare!
His over-tired paranoia was interrupted as England walked back into the room, spying Ireland with his phone and sighing in relief, "Oh Ireland, thanks mate, I thought I'd lost it."
Ireland composed himself as best he could, clearing his throat and holding out the phone so England could see the messages. "What does this mean?" he asked accusingly.
England's eyes widened minutely for a moment, before he too put up an act of false composure. "None of your business is what it is Paddy." He replied haughtily, swiping the phone out of his hand with an irritated mutter of what sounded like, "Goddamn it Scotland."
"You brainwashing our siblings in plenty my business, England!" he snapped back, making England blink at him in horrified surprise.
"Brainwashing?"
"Yeah, why the fuck else would Scotland miss you?"
England blinked slowly, "The first answer you came to was brainwashing?"
Ireland nodded determinately, "Granted I haven't slept more than four hours in as many days but I still know brainwashing when I see it!"
England pinched the bridge of his nose, breathing out a chuckle, "North hasn't told you yet then?"
Ireland frowned in confusion. "Told me what?"
"Scotland and I are dating," England laughed, making Ireland look only even more confused, "We have been since February. I suppose it's about time you knew."
Ireland stared blankly at a wall, "You and Scotty?"
England nodded.
"Are..." he made a vaguely lewd hand gesture.
England rolled his eyes, "Yes."
Ireland pushed past him, "If you'll excuse me, I need a nap. And when I wake up this can all be a strange dream we can laugh about later."
England laughed as Ireland pushed dazedly out of the door, unlocking his phone and calling Scotland as he strode out of the room, toward the car park rather than the hotel rooms. He picked up after two rings.
"Hey, is the meeting over?"
England smiled, "Hey love, yes it is. I'm going to head home now, I should be back by nine."
"Sounds great. I really hate it when you're away for this long. Not only do I have to pick up your slack, I only have my poor hand for company."
"I'm sorry, poppet." He simpered sarcastically, before perking up, "Oh, hey, that reminds me, if Ireland calls you later, just tell him 'it wasn't a dream'."
"Do I want to know what you're talking about?"
England chuckled, "I'll explain when I get home. Order dinner."
"Alright, I'll let you go. Love you."
"I love you too."
When Ireland woke up later that night and called England, he was unhappy to find out that it wasn't all a wacky dream, it was his fucking family being wacky in real life... again. He just wanted a simple life... unfortunately his family seemed intent on throwing him metaphorical curveballs at every turn. He promptly fell back asleep, resolving to never leave his part of his island again.