Aftermath Plans || Amerus / Rusame

𝑪𝑯𝑨𝑷𝑻𝑬𝑹 𝑻𝑾𝑶 // ❝𝑷𝑹𝑶𝑳𝑶𝑮𝑼𝑬❞

Britain sat himself down next to his son's chair. If America was irritated by this, which Britain imagined he was, he did not show.

𝑂𝑇𝑇𝐴𝑊𝐴, 𝑆𝐴𝑇𝑈𝑅𝐷𝐴𝑌, 𝑁𝑂𝑉𝐸𝑀𝐵𝐸𝑅 25𝑇𝐻 1972

He was not the host but Britain had given the mezzanine balcony to him, just like how he liked. It was big enough to fit four people in it, so they were sitting comfortably. The door to the balcony was an arch, separated from the floor landing by a purple, silk curtain.

"Did you like the arrangement? Do you want more vanilla candles?"

America hummed like it was no need, turning the fine whiskey bottle in his hand as he read the label. He seemed to like the smell and the atmosphere, but Britain knew he would never admit it to him. Maybe he could hear them from Canada if America finds him alone tonight.

"Most of the guests already arrived. Not all, of course, but most." He hummed like he just remembered. "Your mother and her family just arrived! You may want to say hi to your brothers and sisters, although I am leaving that to you."

"Why the fuck would I go downstairs to greet them individually?" America answered rudely as he took a poison tester from inside his chest pocket. Britain forced himself not to be offended.

He shrugged. "Just reminding you. They are your siblings."

"Trust me they have enough siblings and cousins to greet. They won't look for me."

"You're America."

"Yes, that's me."

Britain sighed. "You are as much as their brother as they are to each other."

"I am more British than Hispanic in their eyes." America hummed. "I wonder why that is."

Britain just silently watched him shake the poison tester, comparing the colors to the information paper. He hummed when he found it safe, returning to the other.

"Do you really mind? If I hadn't gotten you you wouldn't have where you are today."

America chuckled. "If everything went according to your plan I was still New England. Cut that shit."

Britain opened his mouth to respond, but America did not let the conversation linger as he grabbed another bottle. "Where are my girls?"

And Britain let him. "They should be here soon."

America hummed, a ghost of a smile adorning his face. Britain could not help but notice how he looked more tired than usual. "Good. Send them over here when they come. Canada too. I want them to sit here."

Britain smiled. "I will ask the girls. I know New Zealand won't object, you know she hates the crowd. Australia might want to sit with her friends, though. But if I tell her her brother is insisting, I don't think she will protest. But Canada is the host, he should stay downstairs."

"You already handled his job. Let the boy go."

Britain sighed. "Very well. But he will probably want to sit with Netherlands."

"Then he can. I am not forcing anyone, you see."

Britain couldn't help but be 99% sure this was also another jab at him.

"You know this place was actually reserved for you and Soviet."

"And that's why I sent the vodkas downstairs with Canada. Make him another mezzanine, I don't care."

Britain sighed. "America. We also have to take action if we want to end this feud. He was so kind to accept your invitation, you should be a better host."