[Fanfic] Breaking Mist
Title: Breaking Mist
Genre: Fluff/Romance
Pairing(s): America/England
Rating/Warnings: PG-13
Summary: For the '2009 Spring Fever Fic/Art-Athon'. The prompt was “I create feelings within others, that they themselves don't understand” from Cars.
****
It was dark and it was quiet aside from the bellowing train whistle from some tracks nearby. America was skipping into his pants and taking a quick look around. There were a few random items scattered around the tiny motel room, but not much needed packing. They had only been there for the night, and most of their luggage was still in the trunk of the car. Which was good, because he wanted to get moving as soon as possible.
Once he was done with his belt, he moved over to the side of the bed. He nudged at the mop of messy pale hair sticking out of the blankets. There was no response at first, but he soon earned a muffled, growling moan and the back of England’s hand swiping blindly at him. The hand fell heavily on the pillow with a plop.
“England, get up.” America sat on the bed to put on his shoes. “We haveta go now, man.”
Finally, England pushed himself up, the bed creaking loudly in complaint as he turned to squint at the digital clock on the night table. “F-Fuck, it’s the middle of the night.” His voice was weak and scratchy. “What’s so bloody important that it can’t wait until morning?”
“Just get dressed, okay? You can sleep in the car.”
“This is supposed to be a holiday,” England protested, collapsing back into his pillow.
“It is, so let’s go.” America grinned, pulling the blankets away.
“You arsehole!” England curled in on himself. “I refuse to go out in the ungodly hours of the night without damn good reason!”
“Well, if you don’t get up, I’m gonna leave without you.”
Green eyes glared up at him. “You wouldn’t dare.”
America just smiled back then turned to pick up a suitcase.
“America…” There was a stream of curses and the mattress squeaking hysterically as England fumbled out of bed. But America was already headed out to pack the car. A phonebook came hurtling after him. “You bloody-minded prat! Close the door, it’s cold!”
***
The fog was so thick that America couldn’t see anything other than the headlights. This wasn’t uncommon for this time of year, and he was used to driving in these conditions, but it never ceased to be unsettling. For several reasons.
“England, this is how Silent Hill starts, isn’t it?” They were crossing into the foothills, and the music had broken into garbled static. America reached out to turn off the radio for a while.
“The game or the movie?” England asked, taking a bite out of a cheeseburger. He ate slowly, while America’s own food had been devoured soon after leaving the drive-thru.
“They kinda both start the same…“ America felt pleased that England remembered what he was talking about. He thought England had been paying more attention to his crossword booklet while America was playing the game, and England had been talking so much during the movie, America wasn’t even sure if he knew what was going on. “They both have the creepy little girl that walks out of the fog anyway.”
“I’m sure we don’t have to worry about devil children walking out of the fog.”
“But what if she did? Or some freaky flying monster?”
“Do you normally get flying monsters around here?”
“Well, no.” America tapped his fingers on the steering wheel and glanced skyward. “Not really.”
“Then I wouldn’t expect any. This isn‘t even close to the scariest fog I‘ve seen either.”
“It’s still hella spooky.”
“England looked sidelong at him, the dashboard lights illuminating his face. “Then we should have slept in until it dissipated, don’t you think?”
“Nah, couldn’t do that.” America grinned.
***
The surroundings were still dark and foggy, but now America could see the shadows of the forest that had sprung up on either side of the road. They were higher up in the mountains now. Next to him, England was gently snoring, his chin tucked to his chest. It was a strangely soothing sound.
Without looking away from the road, America reached out and lightly poked England in the side of the head. When England didn’t wake up, he did it again. It still wasn’t enough to wake him up, from the sound of the snoring. America glanced over at the other nation, stuffed into a puffy green parka, his arms folded across his chest.
America really didn’t want to wake him up. But it was lonely on that curvy mountain road.
So he poked him again.
England was still snoring away.
Giving up, America rested his hand on the other nation’s head.
Pat. Pat. Pat.
England’s hair was soft.
Pat. Pat. Pat.
When he was very small, he used to like grabbing it in handfuls.
Pat. Pat. Pat.
But even then, England hadn’t liked that very much.
Pat. Pat. Pat.
Knowing they were coming up on a couple consecutive sharp turns, America put both hands back on the wheel. After making the turns, he glanced over at England again. He was still asleep, but America left him alone and switched on the CD player. The music played quietly as the car continued up the road framed by tall redwoods.
A few minutes later, he wondered when England had stopped snoring.
***
“I suppose the roads will be less crowded than they might during the day,” England said almost to himself as he flipped through a small visitor’s guide. He had turned on the overhead light to read by, since it was dark even in the lighted tunnel they were traveling through.
“See, there you go.” America smiled to himself.
“But I’ll probably be exhausted all day from lack of proper sleep.” England growled pointedly at America. Then he put down the visitor’s guide and reached up to switch off the light. He slumped back in his seat, crossing his arms across his chest. “How much longer are we going to be driving through this mountain? I need to stretch my legs.”
“Not long. There’s a parking lot at the end of this tunnel, we’ll stop there.”
“Good.” England sighed.
The tunnel opened out onto the mountainside, where the promised parking lot lay to the left. It was still dark and mist and sprawling jade of the redwood trees all around as America eased them into park. There were a few streetlights here, but the winking of stars was still visible high in the sky. Two other vehicles were parked a short distance away, but otherwise it was practically deserted. A few feet in front of them was a low stone wall. The only thing visible beyond the wall were a few short shrubs and a thick fog bank. From this high vantage point, the clouds appeared to roll out of the sky like a wild river of mist flowing down into the cradle of the valley below.
Before America could say anything, England was already getting out of the car. America pulled back the sleeve on his jacket to check his watch. Almost time. He left the car and followed after England, who was already stopping in front of the stone wall. England glanced up as America caught up and stood beside him.
“It‘s too damn cold.” England wrapped his arms around himself, shivering slightly.
“It should warm up in a few hours.“ America smiled and stuck his hands in his pockets. “I think you’ll like Yosemite. Your brother really loved it when he came to visit.”
“What?” England’s expression jumped from surprise to suspicion before his eyes darted aside, his face turning away as if giving the nearby trees grave consideration. “Which one?”
America realized he’d said something wrong again. He knew England didn’t always get along with his brothers, but America didn’t think he would mind something like that. The look on England’s face had almost been accusing him of something. Well, there was nothing he could do about it now. “Scotland. He used to come up here and we’d go camping sometimes.”
The corners of England‘s mouth twitched as if he‘d tasted something sour.
“Uh, but that was a long time ago.” America said. “Hey, it’s cool, right?”
England smiled, but his eyes were a little scary looking.
“Right?” America leaned over slightly. “Really, is there something wrong?”
“You’re an insufferable git, you know that?” England gave a shake of the head.
“You keep telling me that. But I’m glad you agreed to come this time. You’re usually too busy for this sort of thing. Always Parliament this, and the Royal Family that…”
“I take my responsibilities seriously, it would do you good to do the same.”
“I do.” America countered irritably. “But when you tell me you can’t hang out because your unicorn has a grooming appointment?”
“You have no idea how difficult it is to find someone who is qualif-”
“It’s always something.”
“Damn it all, I’m here now, aren’t I?” England was flushed, but he didn’t look that angry. “You always ask for more than I can give, and every time you do something like this, I never know when there’s going to be strings attached. You drive me mad in nearly every way imaginable. I’m so much happier when I don’t have to be anywhere near you or reminded that you exist at all.”
America might have been angry if England’s eyes didn’t look so strangely lost and embarrassed. Instead a frustrated and confused emotion just twisted inside him. His voice sounded colder in his ears than he meant to be. “So then, why’re you here now?”
There was a beat. “What did you and Scotland do out here?”
America was taken aback and stood up straight. “What? What does that haveta do with anything? I already said we went camping. So tell me, why’re you here?”
England closed his eyes for a moment as if weighing that answer. “I’m here to go camping.”
“That… That’s not what I meant.” America scuffed a sneaker against the concrete, trying not to sound too eager. “But we can do that if you want. I didn’t think you wanted to stay that long.”
“I want to do everything you and Scotland did together.” England said, his jaw clenched. “Everything.”
“Oh… Okay.” America was surprised by this turn of events, but he had no complaints. “We can do some hiking, sure. And visit the Mariposa Grove and go check out Glacier Point if you want. This whole Yosemite Valley was carved out by glaciers during the Ice Age, did you know that? What am I saying, you were probably around back then.” America teased.
England‘s frown deepened and his arms tightened around himself.
“Yeah,” America quickly nodded. “There’s a lot to see if you really want to.”
“Yes. I want to see all of it.” England said quietly.
“We could try.” America wanted England to stop staring at the ground so much. He gave England’s cheek a playful poke. “Unless you haveta run back home because of another dragon emergency.”
England swiped America’s hand away and rubbed at his cheek. He glared reproachfully at America.
“Wrangling a dragon is no laughing matter.”
“I know, I know. ” Seized by sudden impulse, America jumped behind England and threw his arms around his chest and made a show of subduing him, which became more than show as England cursed at him and thrashed in his attempts to break free. “So is it something like this?” He put on a slightly deeper, more heroic sounding voice. It came naturally, of course. “You can’t throw me, you dragon!” America laughed, his head tucked over England’s shoulder as he enfolded the smaller nation. “You can buck and flap your wings all you want, but you’ll just tire yourself out!”
“Y-You! Idiot, you‘re completely-! Get off!” England sputtered.
America only laughed some more and held on. Sometimes he just couldn’t help himself. He was having too much fun to stop yet, and all England‘s squirming was only encouraging him. That England’s body was getting warmer, which was welcome in the cold mountain air, was even better. England smelled nice too, like some kind of scented shampoo, cologne, rain, grass, ozone, and salty ocean air, and so much more that America couldn’t quite place, but it was oddly intoxicating. Until England’s elbow managed to connect with his gut, knocking the breath out of him.
America groaned and wheezed, but didn’t let go. He looked up.
Yes.
“Dude! Lookit that!”
“Don’t call me ‘Dude.’” England growled and stubbornly shook around again.
“I didn’t call you…” America trailed off in exasperation. “Just look out there!”
And England did look, and finally stilled, just as a few more rays of golden light came filtering through the fog bank. Monolithic shapes looming darkly in the mist became more defined as the sky slowly faded from dark indigo to a watery pale blue. Amber warmth flared across the horizon and crept across the cold mist which curled away at its touch. As that warm light splashed brightly like dappled paint across the sky, the great swirling cauldron of fog dispersed to reveal the valley below them.
The forested valley stretched far below and away from them, half-shrouded in dark mist and surrounded by giant peaks and walls of granite. In the distance, a shining waterfall cascaded down from the cliffs. It was over the farthest peaks that the brilliant mote of the rising sun slowly came shining over the valley.
America felt a hesitant touch at his sleeves, and pulled his head up. The view seemed to be having a calming effect on England. He was relaxing and sinking back against America, his expression far away and deeply pensive. His fingers were gently worrying at America’s sleeves.
This valley was what America had brought them up here to see, but now that they were here, he found himself staring at England instead of the valley. England’s face turned slightly when he noticed, and his eyes flickered to meet his, so much closer than he had realized. There was a moment of tension as their eyes locked… tension and heat, and gravity, so America didn’t know if he was leaning in as much as being pulled in… then England abruptly broke eye contact and turned his face away.
England swallowed audibly and he was short of breath. “It’s very nice here, isn’t it?”
America exhaled heavily, disappointment settling hotly in his stomach. “Yeah, it’s nice.”
“Beautiful, really.”
“Mmm… Well, if you say so.” America chirped merrily as his mood brightened.
England’s brow furrowed and he smiled wryly. “Beautiful may have been too strong a term. It’s a handsome valley, but I’ve seen far more respectable rocks and trees before.”
“Oh no, you said ‘beautiful.’”
“Comely, perhaps. That‘s all.”
“Such a bastard.” America laughed, and England’s own deeper laughter joined his, ringing loudly in the crisp mountain air.
Still laughing a little, America asked the question that was demanding of him again. “So why’re you here?”
“I don’t know.” England’s face went blank.
The laughter from before was replaced by awkward silence as they stood there. Still, America decided that if England wasn’t yelling at him anymore for holding him like this, that was pretty good. That England was there at all was good. Experimentally, he pulled the older nation a little more snugly against his chest.
“You’re weird, England.” America declared a bit too loudly.
There was a pause, then America glanced over in time to see a tiny mischievous smile spreading on England‘s face. He gazed sidelong at America. “Is that so? Then why are you here with me?”
America blinked owlishly, looking between those timeless verdant eyes and that downright fascinating dip at the corner of England’s smiling mouth, then back again. He responded on a surprisingly sharp breath. “Huh? Oh… I’m here for the same reason you are, England. To go camping.” He grinned broadly.
England closed his eyes, still smiling, and gave a weary shake of his head. He returned his gaze to the valley again, and after a moment, America did as well. There was still a veil of mist over the trees, but it wouldn’t be much longer until the view was clear.
---
Gratuitous!Notes:
John Muir was a Scottish American immigrant who was an activist in preserving U.S. wilderness areas, and was one of the driving forces in the creation of Yosemite National Park.
Tunnel View is where America and England are standing at the end. It is awesome. ^w^
Genre: Fluff/Romance
Pairing(s): America/England
Rating/Warnings: PG-13
Summary: For the '2009 Spring Fever Fic/Art-Athon'. The prompt was “I create feelings within others, that they themselves don't understand” from Cars.
****
It was dark and it was quiet aside from the bellowing train whistle from some tracks nearby. America was skipping into his pants and taking a quick look around. There were a few random items scattered around the tiny motel room, but not much needed packing. They had only been there for the night, and most of their luggage was still in the trunk of the car. Which was good, because he wanted to get moving as soon as possible.
Once he was done with his belt, he moved over to the side of the bed. He nudged at the mop of messy pale hair sticking out of the blankets. There was no response at first, but he soon earned a muffled, growling moan and the back of England’s hand swiping blindly at him. The hand fell heavily on the pillow with a plop.
“England, get up.” America sat on the bed to put on his shoes. “We haveta go now, man.”
Finally, England pushed himself up, the bed creaking loudly in complaint as he turned to squint at the digital clock on the night table. “F-Fuck, it’s the middle of the night.” His voice was weak and scratchy. “What’s so bloody important that it can’t wait until morning?”
“Just get dressed, okay? You can sleep in the car.”
“This is supposed to be a holiday,” England protested, collapsing back into his pillow.
“It is, so let’s go.” America grinned, pulling the blankets away.
“You arsehole!” England curled in on himself. “I refuse to go out in the ungodly hours of the night without damn good reason!”
“Well, if you don’t get up, I’m gonna leave without you.”
Green eyes glared up at him. “You wouldn’t dare.”
America just smiled back then turned to pick up a suitcase.
“America…” There was a stream of curses and the mattress squeaking hysterically as England fumbled out of bed. But America was already headed out to pack the car. A phonebook came hurtling after him. “You bloody-minded prat! Close the door, it’s cold!”
***
The fog was so thick that America couldn’t see anything other than the headlights. This wasn’t uncommon for this time of year, and he was used to driving in these conditions, but it never ceased to be unsettling. For several reasons.
“England, this is how Silent Hill starts, isn’t it?” They were crossing into the foothills, and the music had broken into garbled static. America reached out to turn off the radio for a while.
“The game or the movie?” England asked, taking a bite out of a cheeseburger. He ate slowly, while America’s own food had been devoured soon after leaving the drive-thru.
“They kinda both start the same…“ America felt pleased that England remembered what he was talking about. He thought England had been paying more attention to his crossword booklet while America was playing the game, and England had been talking so much during the movie, America wasn’t even sure if he knew what was going on. “They both have the creepy little girl that walks out of the fog anyway.”
“I’m sure we don’t have to worry about devil children walking out of the fog.”
“But what if she did? Or some freaky flying monster?”
“Do you normally get flying monsters around here?”
“Well, no.” America tapped his fingers on the steering wheel and glanced skyward. “Not really.”
“Then I wouldn’t expect any. This isn‘t even close to the scariest fog I‘ve seen either.”
“It’s still hella spooky.”
“England looked sidelong at him, the dashboard lights illuminating his face. “Then we should have slept in until it dissipated, don’t you think?”
“Nah, couldn’t do that.” America grinned.
***
The surroundings were still dark and foggy, but now America could see the shadows of the forest that had sprung up on either side of the road. They were higher up in the mountains now. Next to him, England was gently snoring, his chin tucked to his chest. It was a strangely soothing sound.
Without looking away from the road, America reached out and lightly poked England in the side of the head. When England didn’t wake up, he did it again. It still wasn’t enough to wake him up, from the sound of the snoring. America glanced over at the other nation, stuffed into a puffy green parka, his arms folded across his chest.
America really didn’t want to wake him up. But it was lonely on that curvy mountain road.
So he poked him again.
England was still snoring away.
Giving up, America rested his hand on the other nation’s head.
Pat. Pat. Pat.
England’s hair was soft.
Pat. Pat. Pat.
When he was very small, he used to like grabbing it in handfuls.
Pat. Pat. Pat.
But even then, England hadn’t liked that very much.
Pat. Pat. Pat.
Knowing they were coming up on a couple consecutive sharp turns, America put both hands back on the wheel. After making the turns, he glanced over at England again. He was still asleep, but America left him alone and switched on the CD player. The music played quietly as the car continued up the road framed by tall redwoods.
A few minutes later, he wondered when England had stopped snoring.
***
“I suppose the roads will be less crowded than they might during the day,” England said almost to himself as he flipped through a small visitor’s guide. He had turned on the overhead light to read by, since it was dark even in the lighted tunnel they were traveling through.
“See, there you go.” America smiled to himself.
“But I’ll probably be exhausted all day from lack of proper sleep.” England growled pointedly at America. Then he put down the visitor’s guide and reached up to switch off the light. He slumped back in his seat, crossing his arms across his chest. “How much longer are we going to be driving through this mountain? I need to stretch my legs.”
“Not long. There’s a parking lot at the end of this tunnel, we’ll stop there.”
“Good.” England sighed.
The tunnel opened out onto the mountainside, where the promised parking lot lay to the left. It was still dark and mist and sprawling jade of the redwood trees all around as America eased them into park. There were a few streetlights here, but the winking of stars was still visible high in the sky. Two other vehicles were parked a short distance away, but otherwise it was practically deserted. A few feet in front of them was a low stone wall. The only thing visible beyond the wall were a few short shrubs and a thick fog bank. From this high vantage point, the clouds appeared to roll out of the sky like a wild river of mist flowing down into the cradle of the valley below.
Before America could say anything, England was already getting out of the car. America pulled back the sleeve on his jacket to check his watch. Almost time. He left the car and followed after England, who was already stopping in front of the stone wall. England glanced up as America caught up and stood beside him.
“It‘s too damn cold.” England wrapped his arms around himself, shivering slightly.
“It should warm up in a few hours.“ America smiled and stuck his hands in his pockets. “I think you’ll like Yosemite. Your brother really loved it when he came to visit.”
“What?” England’s expression jumped from surprise to suspicion before his eyes darted aside, his face turning away as if giving the nearby trees grave consideration. “Which one?”
America realized he’d said something wrong again. He knew England didn’t always get along with his brothers, but America didn’t think he would mind something like that. The look on England’s face had almost been accusing him of something. Well, there was nothing he could do about it now. “Scotland. He used to come up here and we’d go camping sometimes.”
The corners of England‘s mouth twitched as if he‘d tasted something sour.
“Uh, but that was a long time ago.” America said. “Hey, it’s cool, right?”
England smiled, but his eyes were a little scary looking.
“Right?” America leaned over slightly. “Really, is there something wrong?”
“You’re an insufferable git, you know that?” England gave a shake of the head.
“You keep telling me that. But I’m glad you agreed to come this time. You’re usually too busy for this sort of thing. Always Parliament this, and the Royal Family that…”
“I take my responsibilities seriously, it would do you good to do the same.”
“I do.” America countered irritably. “But when you tell me you can’t hang out because your unicorn has a grooming appointment?”
“You have no idea how difficult it is to find someone who is qualif-”
“It’s always something.”
“Damn it all, I’m here now, aren’t I?” England was flushed, but he didn’t look that angry. “You always ask for more than I can give, and every time you do something like this, I never know when there’s going to be strings attached. You drive me mad in nearly every way imaginable. I’m so much happier when I don’t have to be anywhere near you or reminded that you exist at all.”
America might have been angry if England’s eyes didn’t look so strangely lost and embarrassed. Instead a frustrated and confused emotion just twisted inside him. His voice sounded colder in his ears than he meant to be. “So then, why’re you here now?”
There was a beat. “What did you and Scotland do out here?”
America was taken aback and stood up straight. “What? What does that haveta do with anything? I already said we went camping. So tell me, why’re you here?”
England closed his eyes for a moment as if weighing that answer. “I’m here to go camping.”
“That… That’s not what I meant.” America scuffed a sneaker against the concrete, trying not to sound too eager. “But we can do that if you want. I didn’t think you wanted to stay that long.”
“I want to do everything you and Scotland did together.” England said, his jaw clenched. “Everything.”
“Oh… Okay.” America was surprised by this turn of events, but he had no complaints. “We can do some hiking, sure. And visit the Mariposa Grove and go check out Glacier Point if you want. This whole Yosemite Valley was carved out by glaciers during the Ice Age, did you know that? What am I saying, you were probably around back then.” America teased.
England‘s frown deepened and his arms tightened around himself.
“Yeah,” America quickly nodded. “There’s a lot to see if you really want to.”
“Yes. I want to see all of it.” England said quietly.
“We could try.” America wanted England to stop staring at the ground so much. He gave England’s cheek a playful poke. “Unless you haveta run back home because of another dragon emergency.”
England swiped America’s hand away and rubbed at his cheek. He glared reproachfully at America.
“Wrangling a dragon is no laughing matter.”
“I know, I know. ” Seized by sudden impulse, America jumped behind England and threw his arms around his chest and made a show of subduing him, which became more than show as England cursed at him and thrashed in his attempts to break free. “So is it something like this?” He put on a slightly deeper, more heroic sounding voice. It came naturally, of course. “You can’t throw me, you dragon!” America laughed, his head tucked over England’s shoulder as he enfolded the smaller nation. “You can buck and flap your wings all you want, but you’ll just tire yourself out!”
“Y-You! Idiot, you‘re completely-! Get off!” England sputtered.
America only laughed some more and held on. Sometimes he just couldn’t help himself. He was having too much fun to stop yet, and all England‘s squirming was only encouraging him. That England’s body was getting warmer, which was welcome in the cold mountain air, was even better. England smelled nice too, like some kind of scented shampoo, cologne, rain, grass, ozone, and salty ocean air, and so much more that America couldn’t quite place, but it was oddly intoxicating. Until England’s elbow managed to connect with his gut, knocking the breath out of him.
America groaned and wheezed, but didn’t let go. He looked up.
Yes.
“Dude! Lookit that!”
“Don’t call me ‘Dude.’” England growled and stubbornly shook around again.
“I didn’t call you…” America trailed off in exasperation. “Just look out there!”
And England did look, and finally stilled, just as a few more rays of golden light came filtering through the fog bank. Monolithic shapes looming darkly in the mist became more defined as the sky slowly faded from dark indigo to a watery pale blue. Amber warmth flared across the horizon and crept across the cold mist which curled away at its touch. As that warm light splashed brightly like dappled paint across the sky, the great swirling cauldron of fog dispersed to reveal the valley below them.
The forested valley stretched far below and away from them, half-shrouded in dark mist and surrounded by giant peaks and walls of granite. In the distance, a shining waterfall cascaded down from the cliffs. It was over the farthest peaks that the brilliant mote of the rising sun slowly came shining over the valley.
America felt a hesitant touch at his sleeves, and pulled his head up. The view seemed to be having a calming effect on England. He was relaxing and sinking back against America, his expression far away and deeply pensive. His fingers were gently worrying at America’s sleeves.
This valley was what America had brought them up here to see, but now that they were here, he found himself staring at England instead of the valley. England’s face turned slightly when he noticed, and his eyes flickered to meet his, so much closer than he had realized. There was a moment of tension as their eyes locked… tension and heat, and gravity, so America didn’t know if he was leaning in as much as being pulled in… then England abruptly broke eye contact and turned his face away.
England swallowed audibly and he was short of breath. “It’s very nice here, isn’t it?”
America exhaled heavily, disappointment settling hotly in his stomach. “Yeah, it’s nice.”
“Beautiful, really.”
“Mmm… Well, if you say so.” America chirped merrily as his mood brightened.
England’s brow furrowed and he smiled wryly. “Beautiful may have been too strong a term. It’s a handsome valley, but I’ve seen far more respectable rocks and trees before.”
“Oh no, you said ‘beautiful.’”
“Comely, perhaps. That‘s all.”
“Such a bastard.” America laughed, and England’s own deeper laughter joined his, ringing loudly in the crisp mountain air.
Still laughing a little, America asked the question that was demanding of him again. “So why’re you here?”
“I don’t know.” England’s face went blank.
The laughter from before was replaced by awkward silence as they stood there. Still, America decided that if England wasn’t yelling at him anymore for holding him like this, that was pretty good. That England was there at all was good. Experimentally, he pulled the older nation a little more snugly against his chest.
“You’re weird, England.” America declared a bit too loudly.
There was a pause, then America glanced over in time to see a tiny mischievous smile spreading on England‘s face. He gazed sidelong at America. “Is that so? Then why are you here with me?”
America blinked owlishly, looking between those timeless verdant eyes and that downright fascinating dip at the corner of England’s smiling mouth, then back again. He responded on a surprisingly sharp breath. “Huh? Oh… I’m here for the same reason you are, England. To go camping.” He grinned broadly.
England closed his eyes, still smiling, and gave a weary shake of his head. He returned his gaze to the valley again, and after a moment, America did as well. There was still a veil of mist over the trees, but it wouldn’t be much longer until the view was clear.
---
Gratuitous!Notes:
John Muir was a Scottish American immigrant who was an activist in preserving U.S. wilderness areas, and was one of the driving forces in the creation of Yosemite National Park.
Tunnel View is where America and England are standing at the end. It is awesome. ^w^