Hold Me Close [5/?]
anonymous
May 3 2009, 22:19:13 UTC
It's morning and the sky is clear, the sun is bright, but... it does not help America, because if it can not heal England, then it isn't good enough.
He's sitting at the table with a mug of coffee and the newspaper. He called in a few days ago, to the White House. He can't make it back due to some emergencies, so he's going to be a few days late. They let him off the hook, thank God.
America sighs; “Even if I said I'd take care of him... I have no idea where to start... First off, what can I do when I have to go back to Washington anyway?” He can't bring England, but he most certainly can't just leave him here on his own.
Then there's Russia... America had to control himself, so his grip on the coffee mug's handle didn't cause the glass to shatter. Knowing him, he might come back to fetch England, and if America wants to do anything, he'd like to invite Russia over for the sole purpose of punching him in the face, but he's got to take care of England for now.
“Is he even up yet?” America quietly asks himself, and he abandons the breakfast on the table (buttered toast, sausages, eggs, and of course, tea, just the way England always liked it.) and walks down the hall into the guest room.
It was a beauty, really, like a painting. The windows sail high, covered by thin, white curtains that let in a dull glimmer of sunlight through the fabric. The room was generally large, but empty. It has a dresser and closet, with a mirror, one large bed and a nightstand.
America strides over to the large, white bed, with a single person sleeping on it, and that is England. His body is still coated in old blood, mixed with the white bandages wrapped around him, on his wounds. The white bed is stained with blotches of red when America laid England down there the first time, but he doesn't really care.
His hands run through that dry hair and... no one was around, he knew it, and America begins to cry. His hand, once in England's hair, was slips behind his glasses and on his eyes as he cries. He honestly didn't cry all night, made himself stay strong, but you know, facades only last so long.
England... England, he loves him, loves him as much as he loves himself and his country, he's important, the most important person in America's life... and here he is.
He's in blood, he's dying inside, he's not England anymore... and it hurts America more then a shot to his heart would.
America knows, he'd give anything to everything if they'd switch him with England. They'd turn back time and America would be captured instead of England... it's fine, it really is, as long as England's healthy and happy, it's okay. Love just extends to so many lengths, and this is one of them.
He hears a groan from below, and wipes his bleary eyes, and looks down, and there is England, waking up. Slowly, but surely, he's alive, and America pushes back the urge to embrace him, talk about how worried he was...
[A/N: I SWEAR THINGS SHOULD GET MORE INTERESTING SOON.]
Re: Hold Me Close [5/?]
anonymous
May 4 2009, 00:12:21 UTC
This...This is so sad and sweet and oh America, you darling hero you. And France. And China. A-And...England, oh poor little baby, everything will (hopefully) be okay... (I'm going to have to stalk this thread now anon.)
He's sitting at the table with a mug of coffee and the newspaper. He called in a few days ago, to the White House. He can't make it back due to some emergencies, so he's going to be a few days late. They let him off the hook, thank God.
America sighs; “Even if I said I'd take care of him... I have no idea where to start... First off, what can I do when I have to go back to Washington anyway?” He can't bring England, but he most certainly can't just leave him here on his own.
Then there's Russia... America had to control himself, so his grip on the coffee mug's handle didn't cause the glass to shatter. Knowing him, he might come back to fetch England, and if America wants to do anything, he'd like to invite Russia over for the sole purpose of punching him in the face, but he's got to take care of England for now.
“Is he even up yet?” America quietly asks himself, and he abandons the breakfast on the table (buttered toast, sausages, eggs, and of course, tea, just the way England always liked it.) and walks down the hall into the guest room.
It was a beauty, really, like a painting. The windows sail high, covered by thin, white curtains that let in a dull glimmer of sunlight through the fabric. The room was generally large, but empty. It has a dresser and closet, with a mirror, one large bed and a nightstand.
America strides over to the large, white bed, with a single person sleeping on it, and that is England. His body is still coated in old blood, mixed with the white bandages wrapped around him, on his wounds. The white bed is stained with blotches of red when America laid England down there the first time, but he doesn't really care.
His hands run through that dry hair and... no one was around, he knew it, and America begins to cry. His hand, once in England's hair, was slips behind his glasses and on his eyes as he cries. He honestly didn't cry all night, made himself stay strong, but you know, facades only last so long.
England... England, he loves him, loves him as much as he loves himself and his country, he's important, the most important person in America's life... and here he is.
He's in blood, he's dying inside, he's not England anymore... and it hurts America more then a shot to his heart would.
America knows, he'd give anything to everything if they'd switch him with England. They'd turn back time and America would be captured instead of England... it's fine, it really is, as long as England's healthy and happy, it's okay. Love just extends to so many lengths, and this is one of them.
He hears a groan from below, and wipes his bleary eyes, and looks down, and there is England, waking up. Slowly, but surely, he's alive, and America pushes back the urge to embrace him, talk about how worried he was...
[A/N: I SWEAR THINGS SHOULD GET MORE INTERESTING SOON.]
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J-just stay strong! Your love will conquer all!!! (≧ロ≦)
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