Petty Petting 2/2
anonymous
July 5 2009, 07:30:22 UTC
Anon fails at titles, btw. And has no idea what England was cooking. ---------------------------------------------------------------------- England groaned. Where was he? How had he gotten there?
What of the food?
He pried open his heavy eyelids, and blinked around for a moment, only to discover that he was in his own bedroom, lying on his back on his very own bed.
Turning his head slightly, he found two worried blue eyes staring back at him.
"You're awake!" America said in a hushed voice; the sort of voice one used when speaking to a dying relative.
"Yes," England said, still very confused. "...When did I go to sleep?"
"Well, uh..." England was certainly not in the mood for what came next, but he got it, anyway. "Y'see, I was looking all over for you, because I needed to tell you that I saw France and he said some weird stuff and I didn't know what to do, but when I finally found you. you were standin over the stove, real quiet and all, so I hollered for you, and you dropped some stuff and..."
England sighed.
"Anyway, the stuff in the pan caught on fire and caught your face on fire and you didn't really go to sleep so much as pass out," America finished quickly.
England blinked at him.
"Give me a mirror," he said with a surprising calm. America hesitated, and passed him one from a drawer across the room.
Peering into the shimmering depths, England blanched. All but for a few tiny strands, his eyesbrows...His thick, dark eyebrows were gone.
America stuttered his way back into England's stunned mind. "I-it's really not so bad, you know. A-at least you aren't hurt, and your hair's o-okay, and...um..." He fell silent.
England looked at him.
He looked back.
England looked at his lap.
America sighed. "L-look. It's kinda my fault, anyway, so..." He reached forward to shyly, tenderly stroke the remnants of England's eyebrow with his thumb. His guilt was too strong for him to notice England stiffen. "I'll help you, okay?"
England said nothing. America continued to finger his forehead. He twitched.
"England?"
"Alright, alright! Th-that sounds fine, just..." He swatted America's hand away. "Don't touch me there."
Heart lifted by England's agreement, America ran off to do whatever it was he thought he could do to help, leaving England shaking. He gave no further thought to the man's odd behavior until he was much older.
Re: Petty Petting 2/2
anonymous
July 8 2009, 23:02:54 UTC
XDDDDDDDDDD This was actually really really cute, especially teen!America's... I take it that this could be placed during the colonial times? Oh England~~~~~~~~~ 8DDDDDDDDDd
late!OP is late
anonymous
July 10 2009, 09:06:59 UTC
But does love this ever so much, and thinks that teenage Alfred is an absolutely wonderful nursemaid to poor Arthur! I'm actually feeling a little horrible now... still, wonderful fill authornon. Thankyou ever so much. ^^
----------------------------------------------------------------------
England groaned. Where was he? How had he gotten there?
What of the food?
He pried open his heavy eyelids, and blinked around for a moment, only to discover that he was in his own bedroom, lying on his back on his very own bed.
Turning his head slightly, he found two worried blue eyes staring back at him.
"You're awake!" America said in a hushed voice; the sort of voice one used when speaking to a dying relative.
"Yes," England said, still very confused. "...When did I go to sleep?"
"Well, uh..." England was certainly not in the mood for what came next, but he got it, anyway. "Y'see, I was looking all over for you, because I needed to tell you that I saw France and he said some weird stuff and I didn't know what to do, but when I finally found you. you were standin over the stove, real quiet and all, so I hollered for you, and you dropped some stuff and..."
England sighed.
"Anyway, the stuff in the pan caught on fire and caught your face on fire and you didn't really go to sleep so much as pass out," America finished quickly.
England blinked at him.
"Give me a mirror," he said with a surprising calm. America hesitated, and passed him one from a drawer across the room.
Peering into the shimmering depths, England blanched. All but for a few tiny strands, his eyesbrows...His thick, dark eyebrows were gone.
America stuttered his way back into England's stunned mind. "I-it's really not so bad, you know. A-at least you aren't hurt, and your hair's o-okay, and...um..." He fell silent.
England looked at him.
He looked back.
England looked at his lap.
America sighed. "L-look. It's kinda my fault, anyway, so..." He reached forward to shyly, tenderly stroke the remnants of England's eyebrow with his thumb. His guilt was too strong for him to notice England stiffen. "I'll help you, okay?"
England said nothing. America continued to finger his forehead. He twitched.
"England?"
"Alright, alright! Th-that sounds fine, just..." He swatted America's hand away. "Don't touch me there."
Heart lifted by England's agreement, America ran off to do whatever it was he thought he could do to help, leaving England shaking. He gave no further thought to the man's odd behavior until he was much older.
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Was wondering, are you the writer!anon who also wrote this?
http://hetalia-kink.livejournal.com/9482.html?thread=13027594#t13027594
It was the little notes written that had me thinking... ^^;
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lol Yep. You caught me. Anon sort of fails at being Anon, nee? :3
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Was that random anon who love writer!anon's little comments... *cough*
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xD
Repeat-readers who don't realize it either, at first.
*is amazed*
Great to hear from you again. :3
Reply
xD
Repeat-readers who don't realize it at first, either.
*is amazed*
Great to hear from you again. :3
Reply
Reply
*bow*
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