Alstroemeria

Chapter 9

Enjoy America being EXPOSEDTM Also y'all dont understand how thankful i am you take time to read this story! It means a lot to me, i appreciate you guys.

-Marzia

          Walking to the front you caught the attention of the nations who had been chatting away leisurely.

   "Bella~! Who was-a that?" N. Italy skipped up to you, leaning down slightly to come face to face with you.

   "My friend from Belvisida." You replied, taking a half-step back as he was too close for comfort. You were never one to care too much about personal space, but he was so close your noses almost brushed.

   "Ah~! That's-a why you spoke in-a that-a language! So he's-a not-a your fidanzato?" He asked, he straightened up a bit, no longer at eye level with you.

   "Assuming you mean 'boyfriend', no, I'm ...afraid I don't have one." While you hesitated to share such information, you hoped he would leave you alone about Victor after this.

   "Bene~!" The bell rang, nations stood up and split up. N. Italy veh-ed a 'goodbye' and left. It ended up being just you, America, England, and France.

[Italian: Good]

   "Dudette! What's your next class?" America slung an arm over your shoulders. You immediately tensed up, breaking into an unnoticeable cold sweat. Seeming to feel you become tense, Alfred sent you a 'don't-be-afraid-I-come-in-peace' glance. While it didn't wipe away your fear it did help you to calm down a bit.

   "E-english." You cursed yourself for stuttering.

   "Ohonhonhon~ Is zhe petite colombe flustered? You seem to have stuttered a bit, non?" France immediately caught on to your stuttering, but not your fear.

[French: Little Dove]

   "Bloody git, she's not flushed, she terrified!" England cut in, pulling you from America's grips and standing next to--and slightly in front of--you.

   "Oh? But why-" France straightened his back a bit, confusion flushing his face, and his brows furrowing.

   "Hey guys, we'll be late! I think we all have English, right?" America cut in. Of course he would.

         America knew what he had done to you. 80 years ago his government noticed Belvisida getting wealthier, and unnecessarily fearing for their own well being--Belvisida was still very weak in terms of army--they decided to launch an attack on one of Belvisida's main source of oil: The Island of Lauvia. While it wasn't the biggest country, nor the smallest, it was made up with a small oil rig. This was earlier in Belvisida's history so they couldn't afford a big rig, the oil business would bring Belvisida out of the hole until they could trade. Alfred tried to stop them, but he could do nothing. He was forced to go along with his country, and couldn't change it.

         Deep down he knew he'd ruin your relationship, and that hurt him to no end. But nonetheless a bomb was dropped on Lauvia December 18th, XXXX (80 years ago from present time). The bomb wiped out the entire island, and damaged the shore of Belvisida too, oil spilled into the once serene oceans and pollution dwelled with Belvisida for years. Sickness and poverty came over Belvisida's people like a tsunami. And so it was done. (told you I'd put it in )

         You, England, France, and America walked to english class together, the walk was peaceful, you stopped momentarily for America to use the restroom. You would undoubtedly be late.

   "Love, are you okay?" England piped up after America disappeared into the restroom. He was looking at you like a mother would when coddling her child.

   "I'm fine."

   "What is with all zhis talk? What did Amérique do?" France was beyond confused. And he was being left out, too, how could you, belle?

[French: America]

   "America-" England lowered his voice, "America killed her sister, git!" France gasped, you winced. England was so worried with your well being but wouldn't cover your ears so painful memories wouldn't arise? Nice going, Arthur.

   "Why did you say zhat when petite colombe is right 'ere? Votre empathie manque d'imbécile!"

[French: You empathy lacking fool]

       You stood silent.

   "Oh-" Realizing his mistake he turned to you, "I'm so sorry, dear," He turned back to the Frenchman who was wailing about how 'Arthur hurt petite colombe's feelings', "DON'T YELL AT ME YOU GIT!"

   "Yooo dudes, why are you arguing?" America returned, zipping up his fly as he walked towards you all (tempted to put y'all but I'm being professional).

   "Amérique! Why did you hurt la petite colombe?" France turned to him. England and you paled. America froze, about five paces from you three. His face darkened.

   "....I was forced to," he looked down, his hair covering his eyes. "please don't remind me."

   "....Let's just get to class, shall we?"

Translations

   Italian

Good

   French

Little dove

America

You empathy lacking fool!