Split Personality

Soup and Jazz

this chapter is more of an intersect between two events. i hope you enjoy it anyways. 

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Pink's POV:

America parks his car. "Alright, we're here." He says opening the door and stepping out. I unbuckle the seat then I open the door and step out. It was freezing. It had gotten colder and the wind coming off the water was only making it worse. The snow was still falling.

I ran up to the front door. I hug my arms and rub them to try and warm up. I could see my breath and I was shivering.

America walked up to the door. "Man, it got chilly." He said. "Y-you think?" I say. "Oh right. You don't do well in the cold. I completely forgot about that." He says smiling. "It's fine. Let's just move on." I say. America knocks on the door.

Britain's POV:

"When are they going to get here?" My brother England asks falling back in the dining room chair he was sitting in. "Be patient, he said that they would be here soon. Just give them a minute." I say.

As soon as I said that the doorbell rings. I stand up and walk over to the door. I open it and I see America and Third behind him. Third runs in and gets away from the door.

He was shivering and was rubbing his arms. "Has it gotten cold?" I ask. "Has it gotten cold? Gee, I wonder. Let me just go outside and get hypothermia! Then maybe you'll have an answer!" He says in an almost yell.

"Red calm down. I was only asking." I say as my son walks in and I shut the door. "Listen, it's not always Red! I can get mad too you know!" He yells.

Pink was yelling. That's new. I'll just let him cool off. Or warm up I guess. "What took you two so long?" England asks. "There were some...problems." America said.

"Speaking of which, where's the shock controller?" He asks. "It's on the dining room table. Why?" I reply. "I need it back." He says. "How come?" I ask. "The collar malfunctioned. It started to full blast shock him for no reason. Not putting that thing back on him." America said.

He grabbed the controller and flicked the switch. "There." He says putting it in his pocket. "Well I need to write a few more things in the logbook then I'll be on my way."

England hands him the logbook and America writes a few things down. "Kk I'm gone. Don't murder each other. Bye y'all." He says as he walks out the door. I hear his car start and him drive away.

"Well then." I start. "Welcome, have you eaten yet?" I ask. He doesn't answer. "England just got finished making soup." I continue. "I'm fine. I'm not hung-" He started but was cut off by his stomach growling. "For the love of Pete!" He said to himself.

"Would you like to continue your sentence?" England asked. He takes a breath. "I haven't eaten since breakfast, Some soup sounds nice." He says.

"Alright then." I say. We all go into the kitchen. I hand Third a bowl and we all get some soup and sit down at the table.

No one was talking, just silently eating. Don't get me wrong, I like the quiet. But this just seemed wrong. Meal time is when you are supposed to talk about your day and whatever topics come to mind.

"England, how was your week?" I ask, trying to start a conversation. Maybe if we start talking Third will join in. "It was ok. It was nice having the house to myself while you were off doing- Ahem, stuff." He said. "Right..." I say. "What did you do?" I ask. Am I acting desperate?

"Played some music, read some books. I went to the beach a few times of course. I re-shelved some shelves in the library." He said. Right after my brother said that I hear Third cough.

We both look over at him and he appears to be choking...Oh god! He's choking! I stand but he puts his hand up signaling me to stay back. He hits himself in the stomach and chest a few times and then swallows. I'm guessing he dislodged it.

"Sorry about that. Carrot." He says nervously. Then he just goes back to eating like nothing happened. He was acting fidgety. But this only started after my brother mentioned the library. Interesting.

"Well ok. I'm glad you had a good time. Maybe tomorrow we can all re-shelve more of the library." I say. Third gets more fidgety. "What do you think?" I ask Third. "Oh! Umm uh, whatever you think is fine! I'll go with just about anything." He says in a panicked tone.

"Right. That sounds like a plan. We can keep cleaning and shelving the library. Then after that we should go get some sun at the beach." I say. "That sounds nice." England says. Third just stays quiet.

Everything goes quiet again. But to my surprise Third starts a conversation. "So, what's your favorite music genre?" He asks. "I like classical." I say. "I love classic rock." England says. "What about you?" I ask. "Jazz. I like jazz. The fast lively stuff is the best. Swing is good too. I guess big band stuff mostly." He says.

"That was a surprisingly thorough answer coming from you." I say. He looks down a bit. Almost like he was ashamed. Did I say something wrong? What did I do? "I like the blues." England says. Third looks up again. His eyes change. They're red now.

"Meh, the blues sound alright but I found it hard to understand." He said. Then he immediately grabs his head in pain and adds on "but I like the blues too." He let's go and looks at his spoon. He glares at it and puts it in his bowl. 

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well, this is a Segway if I've ever seen one. hope you liked it. comment as always.

anyways, toodaloo, 

-Grilly