Meow Means 'You Idiot' [6/?]
anonymous
October 20 2009, 11:19:06 UTC
Change me back! he yells, and to the room it sounds like an vicious yowl but Native America's smile widens in understanding.
"So soon? No, sweetie, you're staying like this until he's happy." She reaches down and scratches behind his ears, not gently - he hisses again and jumps back, tries to bite at her fingers but she pulls them swiftily out of reach.
No, England replies, scowling as best he can. You honestly think this is making it any better?
"You're right," she coos, looking almost tender. "But, well, I'm enjoying this, and America is smiling more. That's good enough for now."
You're insane and I hate you, England doesn't say, but Native America laughs like he did anyway.
There are footsteps on the stairs and America's voice calls up, "Olivia? Are you okay?"
England turns to watch the door for the few moments before America appears, and when he looks back Native America has gone. America stares at the empty space for an instant, puzzled, but then England takes a step across the pillow towards him and he forgets.
"You were meowing a lot. Missing me already?" America chuckles as he sits on the bed next to England, combing his fingers through his fur. England tries not to purr in response.
America pulls his hand away so he can delicately take off his glasses and pull off his hoodie before he tucks himself back under the covers, his head on the same pillow as the kitten. England wants to say something, point out America smells like cheeseburgers (edible, a tiny part of him thinks, and he stamps it down) and he has claws and this is all a terrible idea, but America is asleep before he can make a sound.
Several hours later and England is fast asleep in a warm patch of early sunshine, the whole bed to himself. He's dimly aware of an overwhelming sense of happiness, but mostly he just never wants to have to move again - he meows, quiet and unhappily, when a shadow falls over him and there are hands wrapping around him, but he does not open his eyes until he feels himself being set down on something solid and cold. It smells strange.
He blinks a couple of times, adjusting, and by the time that he's aware that he is in something dark and plastic and enclosed the carrier door is shut, wire mesh and he's trapped and oh god--
"Hey, Olivia, don't worry." America crouches by the side of the bed so his face is level with the door, and he's smiling. England stops freaking out, breathes, and glares at him instead. "It's time to get you checked out, okay?"
Not okay! England tries to shout, but America stands up and is out of view before there's a lurch and England stumbles to the side, unsteady on the thin blanket covering the base of the carrier. He hisses sharply, and America apologises, a smile in his voice, as he adjusts his grip on the handle and carries him out of the house as smoothly as possible - England huddles against the side and watches the house go by through the small square of the door, unsettled by the strange feral smell and the slight swinging of the carrier.
"So soon? No, sweetie, you're staying like this until he's happy." She reaches down and scratches behind his ears, not gently - he hisses again and jumps back, tries to bite at her fingers but she pulls them swiftily out of reach.
No, England replies, scowling as best he can. You honestly think this is making it any better?
"You're right," she coos, looking almost tender. "But, well, I'm enjoying this, and America is smiling more. That's good enough for now."
You're insane and I hate you, England doesn't say, but Native America laughs like he did anyway.
There are footsteps on the stairs and America's voice calls up, "Olivia? Are you okay?"
England turns to watch the door for the few moments before America appears, and when he looks back Native America has gone. America stares at the empty space for an instant, puzzled, but then England takes a step across the pillow towards him and he forgets.
"You were meowing a lot. Missing me already?" America chuckles as he sits on the bed next to England, combing his fingers through his fur. England tries not to purr in response.
America pulls his hand away so he can delicately take off his glasses and pull off his hoodie before he tucks himself back under the covers, his head on the same pillow as the kitten. England wants to say something, point out America smells like cheeseburgers (edible, a tiny part of him thinks, and he stamps it down) and he has claws and this is all a terrible idea, but America is asleep before he can make a sound.
Several hours later and England is fast asleep in a warm patch of early sunshine, the whole bed to himself. He's dimly aware of an overwhelming sense of happiness, but mostly he just never wants to have to move again - he meows, quiet and unhappily, when a shadow falls over him and there are hands wrapping around him, but he does not open his eyes until he feels himself being set down on something solid and cold. It smells strange.
He blinks a couple of times, adjusting, and by the time that he's aware that he is in something dark and plastic and enclosed the carrier door is shut, wire mesh and he's trapped and oh god--
"Hey, Olivia, don't worry." America crouches by the side of the bed so his face is level with the door, and he's smiling. England stops freaking out, breathes, and glares at him instead. "It's time to get you checked out, okay?"
Not okay! England tries to shout, but America stands up and is out of view before there's a lurch and England stumbles to the side, unsteady on the thin blanket covering the base of the carrier. He hisses sharply, and America apologises, a smile in his voice, as he adjusts his grip on the handle and carries him out of the house as smoothly as possible - England huddles against the side and watches the house go by through the small square of the door, unsettled by the strange feral smell and the slight swinging of the carrier.
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