Cure for Lonliness [5]
anonymous
July 8 2009, 05:18:48 UTC
America sat in his rolley chair, turning back and forth slowly. For the first time in awhile, he was thinking very hard about a someone, rather than a something. Aforementioned someone being England, of course. He'd been acting strangely ever since they went out for burgers. Was it maybe food poisioning? Couldn't be. For one thing, his burgers were just fine, and for another, England hadn't even touched his food.
He started tapping the pen in his right hand against his desk, a habit he had picked up sometime during his own recent internal conflict.
Maybe he should try talking to England. The older nation didn't seem to interested, but then again, after America left, he never really did.
Maybe a nice card. Handwritten sentiments were the best kind after face-to-face discussions, right?
...Man, he sounded like an old guy. --- So uninspired. Silly America. Authornon likes rollie/rolly/roley/rolley/spinny chairs/chairs with wheels. Uh oh! Mentions of the America Civil War!! Yeah, a hundred-forty years or so may seem long to us humans, but I imagine it's a rather short amount of time in the longrun/countries' eyes.Sorry for the craptastic job. T T
Cure for Lonliness [6]
anonymous
July 8 2009, 17:55:37 UTC
"What is the meaning of this?" England demanded, roughly a week after the incident at McDonald's. The gathered creatures looked at eachother, and then back at him. A Fae girl called Amaya spoke up.
"Looks to me that he likes you, too."
England glared down at the letter on his desk, scrawled in messy pen and blotted with a familiar signiture.
"You mean to tell me that none of you had anything to do with this."
Their was a flurry of soft voices, and he didn't catch a word. He sighed, rubbing his temples, and looked back at the letter, wondering faintly whether he'd been thinking aloud. --- Hey, Arthur. I know we haven't done anything, just the two of us, in a long time. Aside from businessy stuff, I mean. So, I thought maybe you'd want to come over sometime? Or, we could hang at your house. Or whatever. But, you know, we don't have to. Don't drink too much tea and die!
Cure for Lonliness [7]
anonymous
July 9 2009, 05:21:29 UTC
He considered just phoning the idiot, but something strange in the back of his mind that apparently had a connection to his right hand wanted him to write back. And so he did.
Dipping his pen into the ink pot on the desk, he touched it tentatively to the paper. Alfred, he began, and then crumpled the paper.
Wasteful, yes, but he was in a bit of a mood.
Dear Alfred.
Yes, that fit much better. The younger may have seen no need for niceties, but he, however, knew how to pen a proper letter.
Hours later, though his knowledge of penmanship far exceeded that of his former colony, he was sitting in the same position at his desk, surrounded by bits of crumpled paper.
The blank face of the most recent attempt stared up at him, and he twitched. --- Laila sat on his shoulder, watching him grip the pen for dear life, listening to him grit his teeth.
"Shall we help you?" she asked.
"No, thank you," he kept telling her, before finally giving in.
She smiled before calling for Alberich and Zana, her clever siblings. They danced about the desk, a flurry of lights, and the plain bit of parchment was transformed before his eyes. Of course, Laila told him, he couldn't see what they had written. They assurred him it would work wonders, and secured the envelope with his own wax seal.
He was a little worried about sending something under his name that he hadn't even seen, much less written. But he trusted his Faerie friends, and handed it directly to the postman. He only hoped that their inherent trouble-making wouldn't carry over to this particular affair. --- Dang. I wanted to make England less aware of what the Faeries were up to, but didn't manage it. Hope it's acceptable, anyway!
Cure for Lonliness [8]
anonymous
July 9 2009, 05:30:05 UTC
America stared in disbelief at the letter on his coffee table. It couldn't have been from England! But, it was his handwriting, his signiture... --- My Dearest America I love you. I have loved you since before you were mine, and I sorely miss the time we once spent together. I have had the pleasure to call you not only companion, but also friend. (Only, of course, when you were safely out of range.) I regret letting you go. I regret hurting you as I have. It may be far too late to be what we once were, but I ask only that you give me the chance to prove myself worthy of your hand. America. Alfred. Child, brother, friend. I do not know if I can bear to see you again, knowing all that I have caused. But, if you are willing, then I will try. England --- America had obviously gone bonkers. Either that, or there was a maniacal copy-machine on the loose. Or, someone had England captive and was forcing him to write uncharacteristic letters.
Or, England really did want to make things right between them.
At any rate, it wouldn't do not to reply, and so America took a pen and a notebook out of his backpack, and set to work.
Cure for Lonliness [9]
anonymous
July 9 2009, 05:49:16 UTC
Good thing Al's a tad slow, or that obviously-not-Arthurian letter would never work. --- England/Arthur/You I do want to see you again. Things will be just fine, you'll see! Meet me at the park at 7 on the 18th, okay? America/Alfred/Me --- England blinked. What in the world?
Glancing at the calendar, and then the clock, he decided that he would find out later what America meant, and get to the park then. --- England sat on a bench, kicking listlessly at the concrete, staring at his feet. Where was America? It was nearly eight o'clock already, and there was no sign of him. Perhaps he'd gone to the wrong park. The idiot had failed to specify, after all.
England sighed, glanced at his watch again, gave up and stood to leave.
"England!"
Turning his head, England found himself face-to-face with America, who was wearing an old, expensive suit, and had a bouquet of flowers under one arm. England stared at him as if he'd just sprouted a pair of wings.
"What on earth are you doing?"
"I came to see you, obviously," America said, and then continued without the sarcasm. "I...I thought a lot about what you said, and...I realized that I feel the same." He rubbed the back of his neck and blushed prettily.
England blinked, the sinking feeling in his stomach telling him he should have insisted that the faeries at least tell him what to expect from America.
"And," he began cautiously, trying to word it safely. "How, exactly, do you feel?"
"W-well, you wrote the letter..."
England scowled. It wasn't working! He needed to know what he had said.
"Arthur," he said, walking a bit closer to his ex-colony. "You can talk to me. Afterall...we did once live side-by-side..." he was grasping at straws and praying it got him somewhere.
America smiled almost shyly. "Yeah. You're right. This is just hard for me to say."
"I'm listening," England prodded gently.
"I...I've felt the same about you for as long as I can remember. I just never knew."
Never knew what? England roared inside his head. He nearly jumped when America continued.
"I never knew how much I love you."
England's eyes grew wide as his cheeks grew rosy. "I-I see."
"Yeah. Um."
"...And the flowers?"
America thrust the bouquet into England's face, blushing a deeper red. "For you, duh," he added with a sheepish grin.
England stepped back, before taking the flowers awkwardly. "...You've only ever done this with girls, huh."
"Yeah--" America began, and then paused, slightly ashamed. "Did I do something wrong?"
"No," England smiled, eyes too damp for his liking. "Not at all."
He hugged America then, feeling as though a heavy blanket of sorrow had at last lifted from him. America hugged him back with a nervous laugh, and asked where he wanted to go.
"Home, maybe?" England said, punching America for the suggestive expression on his face. "I'm under the impression that I'm underdressed."
He would have to thank the Faeries later. --- And that's where I'll end it, I think. Hope everyone enjoyed it! x3
Re: Cure for Lonliness [9]
anonymous
July 9 2009, 05:53:53 UTC
DBanon here, and d'awwww. What a sweet place to end it. England better thank the fairies. I wish America could see the fairies so he could thank them too.
And I choose to believe that when they go back, England discovers America's nantucket
He started tapping the pen in his right hand against his desk, a habit he had picked up sometime during his own recent internal conflict.
Maybe he should try talking to England. The older nation didn't seem to interested, but then again, after America left, he never really did.
Maybe a nice card. Handwritten sentiments were the best kind after face-to-face discussions, right?
...Man, he sounded like an old guy.
---
So uninspired.
Silly America.
Authornon likes rollie/rolly/roley/rolley/spinny chairs/chairs with wheels.
Uh oh! Mentions of the America Civil War!!
Yeah, a hundred-forty years or so may seem long to us humans, but I imagine it's a rather short amount of time in the longrun/countries' eyes.Sorry for the craptastic job. T T
Reply
"Looks to me that he likes you, too."
England glared down at the letter on his desk, scrawled in messy pen and blotted with a familiar signiture.
"You mean to tell me that none of you had anything to do with this."
Their was a flurry of soft voices, and he didn't catch a word. He sighed, rubbing his temples, and looked back at the letter, wondering faintly whether he'd been thinking aloud.
---
Hey, Arthur.
I know we haven't done anything, just the two of us, in a long time. Aside from businessy stuff, I mean.
So, I thought maybe you'd want to come over sometime? Or, we could hang at your house. Or whatever.
But, you know, we don't have to.
Don't drink too much tea and die!
~Alfred
Reply
Oh Al, why so cute~? <3 Loving this so far, Anon :3
Reply
I love the random(ly miraculous) IC-ish dialog that pops into my head.
Pity it's so rare.
Reply
Dipping his pen into the ink pot on the desk, he touched it tentatively to the paper. Alfred, he began, and then crumpled the paper.
Wasteful, yes, but he was in a bit of a mood.
Dear Alfred.
Yes, that fit much better. The younger may have seen no need for niceties, but he, however, knew how to pen a proper letter.
Hours later, though his knowledge of penmanship far exceeded that of his former colony, he was sitting in the same position at his desk, surrounded by bits of crumpled paper.
The blank face of the most recent attempt stared up at him, and he twitched.
---
Laila sat on his shoulder, watching him grip the pen for dear life, listening to him grit his teeth.
"Shall we help you?" she asked.
"No, thank you," he kept telling her, before finally giving in.
She smiled before calling for Alberich and Zana, her clever siblings. They danced about the desk, a flurry of lights, and the plain bit of parchment was transformed before his eyes. Of course, Laila told him, he couldn't see what they had written. They assurred him it would work wonders, and secured the envelope with his own wax seal.
He was a little worried about sending something under his name that he hadn't even seen, much less written. But he trusted his Faerie friends, and handed it directly to the postman. He only hoped that their inherent trouble-making wouldn't carry over to this particular affair.
---
Dang. I wanted to make England less aware of what the Faeries were up to, but didn't manage it. Hope it's acceptable, anyway!
Reply
---
My Dearest America
I love you.
I have loved you since before you were mine, and I sorely miss the time we once spent together.
I have had the pleasure to call you not only companion, but also friend. (Only, of course, when you were safely out of range.)
I regret letting you go. I regret hurting you as I have. It may be far too late to be what we once were, but I ask only that you give me the chance to prove myself worthy of your hand.
America. Alfred. Child, brother, friend. I do not know if I can bear to see you again, knowing all that I have caused. But, if you are willing, then I will try.
England
---
America had obviously gone bonkers. Either that, or there was a maniacal copy-machine on the loose. Or, someone had England captive and was forcing him to write uncharacteristic letters.
Or, England really did want to make things right between them.
At any rate, it wouldn't do not to reply, and so America took a pen and a notebook out of his backpack, and set to work.
Reply
oisdhoisdahosadh THOSE FAIRIES.
too awesome.
That letter - oh England you should have looked YOU SHOULD HAVE LOOKED
Reply
But if he had looked, that would have ruined the SURPRISE!
yay Faeries.
Thank you! x3
Reply
---
England/Arthur/You
I do want to see you again. Things will be just fine, you'll see!
Meet me at the park at 7 on the 18th, okay?
America/Alfred/Me
---
England blinked. What in the world?
Glancing at the calendar, and then the clock, he decided that he would find out later what America meant, and get to the park then.
---
England sat on a bench, kicking listlessly at the concrete, staring at his feet. Where was America? It was nearly eight o'clock already, and there was no sign of him. Perhaps he'd gone to the wrong park. The idiot had failed to specify, after all.
England sighed, glanced at his watch again, gave up and stood to leave.
"England!"
Turning his head, England found himself face-to-face with America, who was wearing an old, expensive suit, and had a bouquet of flowers under one arm. England stared at him as if he'd just sprouted a pair of wings.
"What on earth are you doing?"
"I came to see you, obviously," America said, and then continued without the sarcasm. "I...I thought a lot about what you said, and...I realized that I feel the same." He rubbed the back of his neck and blushed prettily.
England blinked, the sinking feeling in his stomach telling him he should have insisted that the faeries at least tell him what to expect from America.
"And," he began cautiously, trying to word it safely. "How, exactly, do you feel?"
"W-well, you wrote the letter..."
England scowled. It wasn't working! He needed to know what he had said.
"Arthur," he said, walking a bit closer to his ex-colony. "You can talk to me. Afterall...we did once live side-by-side..." he was grasping at straws and praying it got him somewhere.
America smiled almost shyly. "Yeah. You're right. This is just hard for me to say."
"I'm listening," England prodded gently.
"I...I've felt the same about you for as long as I can remember. I just never knew."
Never knew what? England roared inside his head. He nearly jumped when America continued.
"I never knew how much I love you."
England's eyes grew wide as his cheeks grew rosy. "I-I see."
"Yeah. Um."
"...And the flowers?"
America thrust the bouquet into England's face, blushing a deeper red. "For you, duh," he added with a sheepish grin.
England stepped back, before taking the flowers awkwardly. "...You've only ever done this with girls, huh."
"Yeah--" America began, and then paused, slightly ashamed. "Did I do something wrong?"
"No," England smiled, eyes too damp for his liking. "Not at all."
He hugged America then, feeling as though a heavy blanket of sorrow had at last lifted from him. America hugged him back with a nervous laugh, and asked where he wanted to go.
"Home, maybe?" England said, punching America for the suggestive expression on his face. "I'm under the impression that I'm underdressed."
He would have to thank the Faeries later.
---
And that's where I'll end it, I think.
Hope everyone enjoyed it! x3
Reply
And I choose to believe that when they go back, England discovers America's nantucket
Reply
...
reCaptcha just told me to breathe.
BY NAME. O__O
Reply
DON'T FORGET TO THANK THE FAIRIES, ARTHUR!!! >____<
And I thank you for such a cute fic, writeranon! <3 *hugs*
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*bows*
Reply
Authornon accidently had England call America Arthur.
*hangs head and sobs*
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