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Warnings: ANGST, historical references.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?"

[goxthexdistance]

America knew where this was going as soon as that accent showed it's face.

"No England, I ain't startin' on ya." He grumbled, dropping into a crouch and running his hands across the whiter than white tiles.

[always_tea_time]

England didn't like this response. "Fuckin' disrespectin' me, brat?" He shoved the crouching America in the shoulder with his boot, trying to topple him over.

[goxthexdistance]

It was only a light tap but it did make America loose his balance. He swatted in the general direction of England's foot angrily.

"Cut it out jerk!" He hissed, his tongue running away before he could stop it. "You're goin' an' provin' my point! Jeez!"