Hold Me Close [48/?]
anonymous
June 5 2009, 07:26:04 UTC
The morning remains relatively uneventful. America has no idea about England's tears. They're wiped away before America wakes up, and when America sees England's puffy eyes that morning, he assumes he was just bothered by the same nightmare and offers more reassuring words.
After that, America tells England to stay in bed and he walks out. England waits, and listens to Canada in the kitchen, screaming; “For the love of God! Alfred, put some clothes on!” “Hey, what are you getting all moody for? It's my brother's house for God's sake, does it really matter!?” “Yes, it matters! Go dress yourself!”
America stalks into the bedroom. “Sorry about that.” He sheepishly grins, and England sighs, but smiles contently.
“All right! Let's get dressed. Uh, your clothes are probably... wherever you put them. Matty won't yell at you.” America pouts when he says this, obviously upset his brother will not hesitate to yell at him though.
“But what about your clothes?” England asks and looks around; his clothes are there all right, but they're a wrinkled mess.
“Uh... I'll just take some of Matty's clothes. I don't think he'll care.” America jogs out of the room and shouts in the hallway his decision, and Canada just tells him not to mess up his dresser. Seeing as America isn't coming back, England clambers out of bed, winces and tries to ignore his sore body.
He picks up a shirt Canada bought him (“I don't know what Alfred was thinking, not bothering to buy you any clothes,” Canada explains when he shows him a set of shirts, “I know he's busy and can't stop by London, but there's shops in Washington! I should tell him that when I see him again.” England doesn't ask why he says specifically London.) and throws it on.
It's white with a print of red Maple leaves, like on the Canadian Flag. He pulls on a pair of boxers and some pants, again, courtesy of America because Canada was less sure on how to shop for his pants.
England walks out and heads downstairs. He listens as he walks, the shouting from the kitchen growing louder as he nears. America probably finished changing before he did.
“So, Matty! Why did you give him wine?! You know how he is! Can't you remember when we were little kids?!” America shouts, though it's more of a whine then anything.
“I know how he is, Alfred! But you know, he's doing so good, I wanted to give him something. He's always liked wine, even back when we were still colonies,” Canada retorts, “Plus I thought maybe with his amnesia, you'd think he would have had different drinking habits!”
After that, America tells England to stay in bed and he walks out. England waits, and listens to Canada in the kitchen, screaming; “For the love of God! Alfred, put some clothes on!” “Hey, what are you getting all moody for? It's my brother's house for God's sake, does it really matter!?” “Yes, it matters! Go dress yourself!”
America stalks into the bedroom. “Sorry about that.” He sheepishly grins, and England sighs, but smiles contently.
“All right! Let's get dressed. Uh, your clothes are probably... wherever you put them. Matty won't yell at you.” America pouts when he says this, obviously upset his brother will not hesitate to yell at him though.
“But what about your clothes?” England asks and looks around; his clothes are there all right, but they're a wrinkled mess.
“Uh... I'll just take some of Matty's clothes. I don't think he'll care.” America jogs out of the room and shouts in the hallway his decision, and Canada just tells him not to mess up his dresser. Seeing as America isn't coming back, England clambers out of bed, winces and tries to ignore his sore body.
He picks up a shirt Canada bought him (“I don't know what Alfred was thinking, not bothering to buy you any clothes,” Canada explains when he shows him a set of shirts, “I know he's busy and can't stop by London, but there's shops in Washington! I should tell him that when I see him again.” England doesn't ask why he says specifically London.) and throws it on.
It's white with a print of red Maple leaves, like on the Canadian Flag. He pulls on a pair of boxers and some pants, again, courtesy of America because Canada was less sure on how to shop for his pants.
England walks out and heads downstairs. He listens as he walks, the shouting from the kitchen growing louder as he nears. America probably finished changing before he did.
“So, Matty! Why did you give him wine?! You know how he is! Can't you remember when we were little kids?!” America shouts, though it's more of a whine then anything.
“I know how he is, Alfred! But you know, he's doing so good, I wanted to give him something. He's always liked wine, even back when we were still colonies,” Canada retorts, “Plus I thought maybe with his amnesia, you'd think he would have had different drinking habits!”
Colonies?
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