Reading Nation's Diaries

The Secrets of a Gentleman

A new chapter is out, yay! I would like to apologise in advance for Scotland's speech, I used a free dialect converter so if it is wrong/ offensive to anyone reading then please tell me and I can change it. This chapter and the next will focus on the British Isles brothers, so here is a brief description of them: Scotland, the oldest, tallest with red hair; Ireland, second oldest, next tallest with red hair; Northern Ireland, twins with Ireland, same height as Ireland and the only difference between them is that Ireland has slightly longer hair; Wales, second youngest, same height as England with brown hair.

England rolled out of bed, groaning. He didn't want to get up. Not today.

He had a bad feeling about today, some sort of dark foreboding. He dressed quickly in genes and a T-shirt, attempted to tame his hair and pulled on a pair of trainers. Before he left the room, he grabbed a baggy grey hoodie and slipped it over his head.

Upon exiting the room, England found himself in the cloud of nations filling the narrow corridor. He gently pushed nations out of the way as he made his way to the main room and eventually the kitchen; he needed his morning tea.

When he arrived in truth kitchen he, much to his annoyance, found France preparing breakfast for everyone. Avoiding eye contact, England shuffled over to the kettle in order to start preparing his morning tea.

France said nothing about England's scruffy appearance, lack of argument, general tiredness, lack of trying to cook or even his apparent ignorance of the French nation's presence. England looked beaten down and apprehensive, something France did not like to see in the island nation. England was almost like a little brother to him and the large, dark circles under his eyes made him look haggard, exhausted and ill. France hated to admit it but he felt concern for his long time rival. Resolving to speak to England's older brothers, and potentially England himself, later, France continued with his breakfast preparations without saying a word to the Englishman.

After laying food out on the table for everyone to eat, France sought out Scotland. Scotland was probably the easiest of England's brothers for the Frenchman to talk to, to due to his old friendship with the eldest of the British Isles siblings.

When France found his target he prepared himself for what he was about to do. He just hoped that Scotland believed him.

"Écosse*, may I speak with you?" France sang, dragging the Scotsman away before he had time to reject the request.

France briefly explained what he thought was wrong with the Englishman; Scotland glanced over to his brother and watched him thoughtfully. France's explanation had, although he would not admit it, scared him. Scotland cared deeply for his brother. England was slouched in an arm chair in the corner of the room, something that he often did in the privacy of his own home; either England didn't care about how others saw him, viewed this place as home or had something heavily on his mind. He knew that England would never view this place as a 'home' of any kind and always cared about how he was perceived by others (unless, of course, he was doing something to help one of his former colonies- he would do almost anything for them). He was thinking about something, probably something bad.

France bounced off, leaving the Scotsman to his thoughts. At some point, his other brothers joined him again. They pestered him about his previous conversation but Scotland's only response was to mumble something along the lines of 'my precious bunny', thoroughly confusing his brothers. They knew who the 'bunny' was but they had no idea why their elder brother was repeating that line over and over again.

The brothers sat in silence, occasionally one of their number moving to get something to eat. Scotland tried not to worry his younger brothers, however, he couldn't stop himself from glancing over to his youngest brother who hadn't moved apart from the occasional turning of the book's pages.