Vanishing like so many empty words.

[always_tea_time]

Who: America and England
When: Tuesday Evening
Where: England's room.
Summary: America's found a costume in his closet that hits far too close to home for England. In a sulk, he's sat in his room drinking, and America doesn't know how to leave well enough alone.
Rating: probably 15 for swearing.
Warnings: ANGST, historical references.

Comments

[goxthexdistance]

Feeling how someone had too feel when they were about to poke a dragon in the eye, America sloped up to England's door like a man to his execution. Chewing his lip hard, he had to take his hands out his pockets to push Texas back up his nose as they slid down, his palms were sweaty too.

He swallowed, hey, a hero wasn't afraid of anything! He was just checking up on England because he was a hero and that's what heroes did!

If only he could believe it.

"England?"

[always_tea_time]

Oh of course. Of fucking course he had to come here. England was happy wading through his own misery.

"Fuck off!" He yelled back. He didn't want to talk to America. Or anyone. Especially not when America looked like that.

[goxthexdistance]

America groaned, resting his forehead against the door.

"Let me in England!" He shouted back, wondering just what the reaction would be if fuck it all he just wandered in naked? Would that make it worse or better?

Probably both. Somehow. Better. Definitely better.... Maybe.

[always_tea_time]

"I said fuck off, wanker!" England threw an empty bottle at the door, taking satisfaction when it smashed. Looking around, he found four more. How many had he drunk? Bah, he didn't care anyway. He played with the sleeve cuffs of the red coat absently. "Leave me alone!"