America in Love [3b/?]
anonymous
June 27 2010, 21:57:01 UTC
“Angleterre, think of who you are saying it to. Of course I don’t think it pathetic. However, I do think it pathetic that you have yet to tell him and that you are discounting him from being the one sending you the poems.”
“Oh, really now. Think about it, France. What are the chances that America could also be in love with me and trying to woo me through Shakespeare?”
“Stranger things have happened,” he said, hiding a smile behind his wine glass. “Like you falling in love with him in the first place.”
“Are you going to help me, or aren’t you?” England asked, fed up and frustrated with France insisting that it was America. It couldn’t be.
“Sorry, but I don’t have any idea, other than your one true love,” England glared and France continued on oblivious, “and it is most certainly not me. My advice…forget all about it and confess your love to Amerique. You will be ten times happier
( ... )
“Oh, really now. Think about it, France. What are the chances that America could also be in love with me and trying to woo me through Shakespeare?”
“Stranger things have happened,” he said, hiding a smile behind his wine glass. “Like you falling in love with him in the first place.”
“Are you going to help me, or aren’t you?” England asked, fed up and frustrated with France insisting that it was America. It couldn’t be.
“Sorry, but I don’t have any idea, other than your one true love,” England glared and France continued on oblivious, “and it is most certainly not me. My advice…forget all about it and confess your love to Amerique. You will be ten times happier ( ... )
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