A/N: i wasn't quite sure where I was going when I started this. It was supposed to be a funny, frivolus read like "Canada Speaks Up" was, but in all honesty I'm enjoying the bits of depth added in.
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England had, begrudgingly, joined America for coffee; though he had gotten tea instead. He hated coffee, the wretched sustenance turned one’s teeth yellow and made their breath stink to high heavens. The pair sat in awkward silence for a time, neither one willing to break the suffocating atmosphere surrounding them. If he was just going to sit here and not say anything why did he make me come? England sat his temper slowly simmering to its boiling point.
“How come you didn’t let him sit in on the meeting?” America asked out of the blue. England chocked and sputtered, spitting out the hot liquid he had been about to swallow just a moment before.
“Pardon?” he gasped.
“You heard me.” America crossed his arms over his chest and stared England down,” Why couldn’t he stay?”
“What do you mean ‘Why couldn’t he stay?’, it’s obvious. He isn’t part of the Allies and we were discussing important business matters and war strategies. We can’t have some child running about and possibly blurting out our ideas to Italy, or worse Germany.” England defended himself vehemently.
“Bull,’ America retorted seriously.
“B-bull,” England spoke flustered. “What do you mean ‘Bull” it’s a valid argument!”
“Sure, it would be if we ever actually got anything done.” America said sharply slamming his hands on the table,” all we ever do in that humid, cramped little room in squabble and fight while China tries to sell us over price ‘Goods’ and Russia plots to enslave us all.”
“Squabble and fight? …Well, it’s not like -,” England’s retort was cut short.
“I’m any better? Of course I’m not.” He said simply. “All I do is stuff my face and say ‘I’m the hero’. So don’t try to turn this on me.”
England was at the end of his ropes; he didn’t want to tell America, the rambunctious little twerp that had spurned him so many years ago, about his inner turmoil over that blue eyed little brat.
“W-why do you even care?” he screamed at the younger man. England was irritated and all good sense had flown out the widow long before this conversation had even started. He stood there panting with his shoulders tense and his hair standing on end.
America stared, hard, into the Brit’s emerald green eyes, his baby blues slowly hardening to ice as his anger boiled over.
“BECAUSE, IT HURTS! Every minute you act like you care and then spurn him the next hurts him! Can’t you see that? Or is your head to far up your ass in La-la land for you to comprehend a thing. You can’t care for someone one minute, decide they aren’t even worth the the dirt on your shoe, and then care the next; it leaves a person feeling ragged and used ,” America shouted. He shoved away from the table spilling his coffee all over the hard wood surface, changing the color to a dark auburn as the stain soaked through. “Don’t talk to me for a while,” he shouted over his shoulder as he stormed of,” you self-centered jackass!”
England sat there dumbfounded, speechless at the event that had just occurred. Is that how Sealand feels? Used? England thought to himself… Is that how you feel, America?
…
America stormed off out of the building, I’m gonna skip the next meeting. No need for such a tense atmosphere in there; beside, it’s not like we’ll get a thing done anyway. He walked across the half empty parking lot in the darkness, only a single lamp post to light the expansive lot. He stopped and stared up at the night sky. He wasn’t really angry at England for the kid’s sake. In fact, he didn’t care for that kid at all; it had been his entire fault anyway.
He had been doing fine after the revolution, sure him and England hadn’t gotten along but that had made sense, England ignored him and America hadn’t minded that; he was sick of the Brit’s ‘hot n’ cold’ attitude towards him. The silence was nice, but then that dumb little blonde kid had shown up and ruined everything. He had drawn England’s attention and it had annoyed America to no end; reminding him of when he was little and how England’s eyes would crinkle at the corners whenever he smiled at him then. That didn’t happen anymore.
His heart wretched a bit in his chest at the thought of the old days; it never bothered him before. But, then again, England had never looked that way at anyone else and America had felt used. I’m not someone you can push around and use anymore so you don’t care about me?
He kicked a rock, hard, and it clanked loudly in the silent night as it struck the siding of one of the cars, denting it.
“I don’t care,” America snarled and kick the car the rock had struck. “Don’t care. Don’t care. Don’t. CARE!” by the end of the rant the poor car had been beaten to a pulp. Deep dents littered its once shiny siding and scratches chipped the crimson red paint, I care, America sobbed in his mind, freaking jerkoff!!
“Are you done with you little tantrum?” A sadistic voice laughed.
America turned sharply, shocked, catching a glimpse of cropped blond hair and hard blue eyes before he passed out, Germany?
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A/N: Don't forget to comment and Fan(?) (I think that was what the word was......or maybe it was Star?...... Well, I'm sure you get the general idea) Thank you!!!!!!
P.S. I decided on Acts. The will probably be about 3 or 4 in this.
