Literally, not Figuratively -- Part 2c
anonymous
November 16 2010, 04:54:43 UTC
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"I forgot how your face is as hard as the rest of your head."
America beamed as he handed England an ice pack for her sore knuckles. (Being the reason behind it didn't mean he was any less happy to help.) "Hey, does this mean I can't make jokes anymore about how you hit like a-"
"Finish that sentence and next time I'll aim somewhere a little more vulnerable." she interrupted, taking a gulp from her second tea of the day and forcefully clanking her cup down in a manner that could only be described as 'quite unladylike' (or as America would have said, 'totally England').
"You have to admit, the closet was a kinda funny choice."
"And where else would you have expected me to hide exactly?"
"Well, I wasn't expecting you to be hiding from me at all."
"You show up at my home without warning, break in my door, and generally make a nuisance of yourself. Even if I hadn't been trying to hide my gender I probably would have still taken up residence in that closet to avoid you." So what if that wasn't necessarily true? At least their interactions seemed to have gone back to normal. "Or maybe I should have stuck you in there instead to avoid additional destruction."
America pouted, "Well that's not nice."
"Don't be a child. Besides, we both know it wouldn't have held you long anyway." England muttered. A sigh. "So much for my peaceful day off." She took another sip of tea. Over the rim of her cup, she noticed the other nation wasn't making to respond to her half-hearted complaint. Instead, he was staring at her rather thoughtfully. "What is it?"
"It's weird." he said after a pause.
"And 'it' would be...?" she prompted.
He didn't answer right away, the look on his face was uncharacteristically contemplative. That couldn't be good.
"Your voice." he said at last. "I mean, sure seeing you in a skirt and all is definitely different..." And there was that equally endearing and infuriating smile of his and if he started laughing again she was going to-
But he didn't. "...but when you talk like that. It still sounds like you and it's kinda familiar but it's not." He scratched his head and laughed. It wasn't the teasing laughter so she let it slide, more interested in what he was saying now anyway, "Your voice is girlier, but you sound the same, you know?"
It took her a moment, but England suddenly realized what he was talking about.
Another slip up. She was usually better at this, but as their conversation had been going on it seemed, unconsciously, England had adopted her more natural tone of voice around America. A tone that had until now been reserved exclusively for her older brothers, and occasionally her supernatural friends. Although with the latter's unpredictable nature of appearing at world meetings, she often dropped her voice around them as well, just to be safe.
"Yes, well..." she began, trying to figure out how to respond, "It's not like I could talk in my normal voice with the majority of the world being convinced I'm a man, now could I?"
"I get that." he answered, nodding his head in understanding, "But..." his expression still seemed a little unsure and he gestured vaguely in her direction, "...Why?"
And there was the question she had been waiting to be asked since he'd kicked in her door. Or maybe even before that.
"I suppose I'll explain it then."
((First of all, I want to thank you all for your comments, anon readers! It's always worth it to have people tell you they enjoy your writing. Secondly, I'm sorry if characterization and plot is all over the place. I don't think I'm keeping an even, level balance of humor and seriousness; more like it's tilting back and forth like a see-saw. Please let me know if you share my worries.
I hope you all continue to enjoy the fic, and thank you again for reading!))
"I forgot how your face is as hard as the rest of your head."
America beamed as he handed England an ice pack for her sore knuckles. (Being the reason behind it didn't mean he was any less happy to help.) "Hey, does this mean I can't make jokes anymore about how you hit like a-"
"Finish that sentence and next time I'll aim somewhere a little more vulnerable." she interrupted, taking a gulp from her second tea of the day and forcefully clanking her cup down in a manner that could only be described as 'quite unladylike' (or as America would have said, 'totally England').
"You have to admit, the closet was a kinda funny choice."
"And where else would you have expected me to hide exactly?"
"Well, I wasn't expecting you to be hiding from me at all."
"You show up at my home without warning, break in my door, and generally make a nuisance of yourself. Even if I hadn't been trying to hide my gender I probably would have still taken up residence in that closet to avoid you." So what if that wasn't necessarily true? At least their interactions seemed to have gone back to normal. "Or maybe I should have stuck you in there instead to avoid additional destruction."
America pouted, "Well that's not nice."
"Don't be a child. Besides, we both know it wouldn't have held you long anyway." England muttered. A sigh. "So much for my peaceful day off." She took another sip of tea. Over the rim of her cup, she noticed the other nation wasn't making to respond to her half-hearted complaint. Instead, he was staring at her rather thoughtfully. "What is it?"
"It's weird." he said after a pause.
"And 'it' would be...?" she prompted.
He didn't answer right away, the look on his face was uncharacteristically contemplative. That couldn't be good.
"Your voice." he said at last. "I mean, sure seeing you in a skirt and all is definitely different..." And there was that equally endearing and infuriating smile of his and if he started laughing again she was going to-
But he didn't. "...but when you talk like that. It still sounds like you and it's kinda familiar but it's not." He scratched his head and laughed. It wasn't the teasing laughter so she let it slide, more interested in what he was saying now anyway, "Your voice is girlier, but you sound the same, you know?"
It took her a moment, but England suddenly realized what he was talking about.
Another slip up. She was usually better at this, but as their conversation had been going on it seemed, unconsciously, England had adopted her more natural tone of voice around America. A tone that had until now been reserved exclusively for her older brothers, and occasionally her supernatural friends. Although with the latter's unpredictable nature of appearing at world meetings, she often dropped her voice around them as well, just to be safe.
"Yes, well..." she began, trying to figure out how to respond, "It's not like I could talk in my normal voice with the majority of the world being convinced I'm a man, now could I?"
"I get that." he answered, nodding his head in understanding, "But..." his expression still seemed a little unsure and he gestured vaguely in her direction, "...Why?"
And there was the question she had been waiting to be asked since he'd kicked in her door. Or maybe even before that.
"I suppose I'll explain it then."
((First of all, I want to thank you all for your comments, anon readers! It's always worth it to have people tell you they enjoy your writing. Secondly, I'm sorry if characterization and plot is all over the place. I don't think I'm keeping an even, level balance of humor and seriousness; more like it's tilting back and forth like a see-saw. Please let me know if you share my worries.
I hope you all continue to enjoy the fic, and thank you again for reading!))
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This fill is adorable for some reason. I look forward to your updates. :)
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Oh America, I truly do love you, even though you kill with my own laughter a lot.
I love this fill it's so amazing...XD I can't wait for more...not wait I can...no I can't! -explosion of excitement-
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I'm loving this fill so far. Keep it up, authornon!
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