𝑫𝑬𝑨𝑫 𝑨𝑳𝑰𝑽𝑬《 Philippines CountryHumans AU 》

xxxiv.

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[I can't believe that this needs to be addressed, but please STOP USING RACIAL SLURS in the comments. The amount of comments that I have to delete on my fictional depiction of China when he literally appeared in basically only 1 chapter in this book is outstanding— and most of them are slurs. It's offensive, it's hurtful, and it makes me wanna delete this book because of it. The only reason I'm even continuing this book is because I worked hard on this story, and I at least want the people who aren't fucking racist to know the rest of the plot. The characters of this story are based on the wiki, my personal headcanons, and even other books that portray them this way. I'm sick and tired of people saying that actual real-life people act the way a fictional one does.]

[The reason this chapter took so long to post was that I was debating whether or not to delete the entire story. 'I have nothing to lose and much to gain anyways' was what I kept thinking.]

[I genuinely don't want to delete this book because I want to finish the story for those who are respectful, but if people still don't stop commenting these slurs then I won't hesitate to press the delete button.]

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America can't sleep.

He stares up at the ceiling from the comforts of his bed as the moon casts a faint glow inside his dark room. It's dark, really dark, and he can't help but feel so incredibly lonely.

The blankets are making him feel hot, but it's freezing cold when he takes them off. Ame can't help but feel the itch of all his clothes clinging to the sweat of his body.

He supposes falling unconscious would help him stop thinking of the uncomfortableness that is his bed— but he can't sleep.

Or rather, he doesn't want to sleep.

If he does, he fears he'll see them in his dreams.

Belarus, his past lover who he never loved in the first place, and Philip, who he...

Loves?

Does he love Philip?

Or does he just want the benefits of a relationship without actually committing to one? Bah, it doesn't matter. He— He loves Philip! Belarus was—...

America's heart whispers, "she was human. She loved you. And you took that innocent love and smashed it to bits."

"...I did, didn't I?" He laughs bitterly, running his hand through his hair as he squeezes his eyes shut for a moment.

America sits up from his bed, and he shivers as the cold air of the night hits his sweaty skin. Nevertheless, he flicks the covers off and trudges to his closet.

If he won't sleep, then he shouldn't spend the entire night in bed.

Just as he was about to put on a coat, the phone on his nightstand rang. He eyes the screen, but it was much too dark to read the caller's name without him wincing at the bright light.

He scowls, because what kind of idiot would call someone of his status in the middle of the night? Trudging towards it, he lazily picks it up and places the device next to his ear.

"Hello—"

Ragged breathing is heard on the other line. America raises his brows at this. What's got them so out of breath? "Philip—"

Philip? America's heart quickens. What happened to him? What happened to Philip? Is everything—

"—sir, Philip's awake!"