Re: Misplaced Soil | USUK | 9/?
anonymous
April 29 2010, 19:22:22 UTC
“England,” he said, stressing the name. England frowned at him.
“Stop this at once, I need to get to my meeting.”
“If you go there, then you can’t make plans to leave me alone in that fucking desert, so I’m not leaving you leave this bathroom,” America said firmly.
“You’re being ridiculous, America,” England said. “You must understand-it’s a trial on my country and I-”
“What do you mean it’s a ‘trial’? You don’t think it’s a pain in the ass for me, too? If you leave now then what the fuck am I supposed to do?”
“That isn’t really my problem, America-”
“But-dude! You can’t do this to me!” America insisted, still not moving from the doorway. “You and me-we’re a team. The Special Relationship!”
England scoffed, not looking at him. “Oh, yes. Of course.”
“You and I-we gotta look out for each other.”
“Just like you look out for me?” England snapped back. “Or does the Special Relationship only apply when you can get something from it?”
“What-”
“America,” England said gravely, “Move. I need to get to my meeting.”
“I won’t let you.”
“Stop telling me what I can and cannot do,” England shouted, and tried to shove him aside. He got America to lurch slightly from the doorway before the younger nation remembered himself and stiffened up, remaining unmovable in the doorway. England inhaled sharply. “Do you even realize what people call me, in regards to our supposed special relationship, America?”
“Uh… awesome?” America guessed.
England shook his head. “Your pet poodle.”
And America had the gall to snort a soft puff of laughter. England’s expression darkened and he dropped his hands away. They curled into fists.
“Fuck you.”
“Aww, babe come on, you know that’s totally ridiculous. I don’t even like poodles.”
England stared at him, and felt one eyebrow twitch.
“You-fuck you.” He stared at him, wide-eyed. “Do you even understand-”
“Anyway,” America said with a shake of his head, “You can’t leave the wars. I won’t let you.”
“You think you can tell me what to do?”
“Uh, yeah,” America said. “Come on. Don’t look at me like that. We’re allies-it’d be a total dick move to leave now. You’re like the only one who’s stayed with me all this time.”
“Yes, and allowed for you to do as you pleased without ever seriously protesting and-”
“Stop this at once, I need to get to my meeting.”
“If you go there, then you can’t make plans to leave me alone in that fucking desert, so I’m not leaving you leave this bathroom,” America said firmly.
“You’re being ridiculous, America,” England said. “You must understand-it’s a trial on my country and I-”
“What do you mean it’s a ‘trial’? You don’t think it’s a pain in the ass for me, too? If you leave now then what the fuck am I supposed to do?”
“That isn’t really my problem, America-”
“But-dude! You can’t do this to me!” America insisted, still not moving from the doorway. “You and me-we’re a team. The Special Relationship!”
England scoffed, not looking at him. “Oh, yes. Of course.”
“You and I-we gotta look out for each other.”
“Just like you look out for me?” England snapped back. “Or does the Special Relationship only apply when you can get something from it?”
“What-”
“America,” England said gravely, “Move. I need to get to my meeting.”
“I won’t let you.”
“Stop telling me what I can and cannot do,” England shouted, and tried to shove him aside. He got America to lurch slightly from the doorway before the younger nation remembered himself and stiffened up, remaining unmovable in the doorway. England inhaled sharply. “Do you even realize what people call me, in regards to our supposed special relationship, America?”
“Uh… awesome?” America guessed.
England shook his head. “Your pet poodle.”
And America had the gall to snort a soft puff of laughter. England’s expression darkened and he dropped his hands away. They curled into fists.
“Fuck you.”
“Aww, babe come on, you know that’s totally ridiculous. I don’t even like poodles.”
England stared at him, and felt one eyebrow twitch.
“You-fuck you.” He stared at him, wide-eyed. “Do you even understand-”
“Anyway,” America said with a shake of his head, “You can’t leave the wars. I won’t let you.”
“You think you can tell me what to do?”
“Uh, yeah,” America said. “Come on. Don’t look at me like that. We’re allies-it’d be a total dick move to leave now. You’re like the only one who’s stayed with me all this time.”
“Yes, and allowed for you to do as you pleased without ever seriously protesting and-”
“Look, things’re fine the way they are.”
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