Occasionally, the countries of the world will meet up at someone's house just to chat. This was one of those times.
America looked around, chuckling to himself as nobody could decide on a movie to watch.
His eyes settled on England, and was immediately confused, as France wasn't in a yelling match over movies. Standing up quickly, he scanned the room for any sign of the Frenchman.
He spotted Francis on a couch, his hair getting braided by Seychelles- or at least attempting to, America noted, because it seemed she was having trouble. Taking a closer look, America saw it was because the braid she was trying to do was meant for people with hair longer than France's.
America immediately jumped in to help (he is a hero), and said "Hey, Seychelles, uh- the braid you're trying to do, it won't work." He rushed out. "I mean, you're still probably really good at braiding-" he cut himself off with a deep breath. "Here, let me just- yeah." He grabbed her hands, ignoring the quizzical look he got and the heat in his face, and guided her.
And after fifteen minutes, France was staring at his own reflection in the mirror because wow that looked good.
"How- how did you..." France trailed off, unable to finish his sentence.
"Boy Scouts." America said proudly (and a bit smugly), happiness evident.
And for the rest of the night, if someone asked where France got his hair done, he'd say "Boy Scouts."
Cute America is cute
Also I just accidentally managed to get myself shipping America and Seychelles kill me
Cute Nerd x Cute Cinnamon roll = Death
YOU ARE READING
The Secrets of America
FanfictionHe should have cleaned that wound better. Now he has to share all his secrets. Get ready world, you're about to see the real America.
