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America waited it more than enthusiastically, because no doubt England would get totally drunk - like always when he get his hands on alcohol - and he never failed to proclaim in a loud voice how America was an ungrateful brat and babble some other rubbish and bother the American the whole night. This usually somewhat annoyed America (although he had gotten used to it, really), but not tonight; tonight he was sure he would be in the center of England’s attention and he didn’t really care if it meant he would get yelled at.
So when he was sitting next to the bar counter, alone, and England was sitting a few stools away from him, totally wasted as America had predicted, and chatting and laughing loudly with Prussia of all people (that guy wasn’t even a country anymore for god’s sake!!), he couldn’t understand anything at all anymore.
What was going on?! He couldn’t help but glance at the two of them from time to time a somber look on his face and try to ignore the disappointment burning his insides. This was so unfair, he couldn’t even remember anymore the last time he had had a (more or less) proper conversation with England.
B-but he was so not missing the Englishman! Not the least!
And when the said Englishman started to sing loudly some stupid song with the stupid ex-country, throwing his stupid arm over the other man’s stupid shoulder America decided he had had enough and rose hastily from his seat and headed for the door.
If England didn’t care about him, why should he bother caring about the older country?
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