Sandcastle in the Sky
The sand kicks up under his feet as he runs, laughing, down the beach. At the edge of the island he stops to catch his breath, falling back and laughing again. His hat tips off and he plays with the edge of his bandanna; after a moment that's gone, too, and he strips down to nothing. He closes his eyes and makes a running leap for the water - ow, ow, sand was hot - and dives in, loving the lukewarm clear green waters. He closes his eyes and floats for a moment.
Such a perfect, perfect moment is interrupted by arms wrapping around his waist, pulling him closer. He's slowly turned around - England opens his eyes and scowls immediately, while Spain smiles in that odd, angry sort of way - and softly kissed, pressed flush against the half-naked nation. His response his to shove Spain underwater, snarling about indecency - he gets a very pointed look from Spain, as if saying that this was coming from a nude pirata - and to swim back, lay on the sand, and wish he dried quickly.
Such a perfect, perfect moment is interrupted by arms wrapping around his waist, pulling him closer. He's slowly turned around - England opens his eyes and scowls immediately, while Spain smiles in that odd, angry sort of way - and softly kissed, pressed flush against the half-naked nation. His response his to shove Spain underwater, snarling about indecency - he gets a very pointed look from Spain, as if saying that this was coming from a nude pirata - and to swim back, lay on the sand, and wish he dried quickly.