Author here! The next part after this may or may not be a chapter, because there's a bonus entry I'm also currently working on. It's a surprise I'm sure you'd like, dear Reader.
————————————————————————————————————————————————Since the bloody mess made in the living room, (Y/N) has managed to make the place look orderly again. The stains on the white carpet were reduced to a barely noticable light pink, and though the couch cushions still needed some work, the cushions could be turned over so (Y/N) didn't have to worry about anyone noticing for now.
Now that the girl was satisfied with her work, she paced around the house; both as a double check to make sure everything was neat before a guest arrived and as what could be called as some sort of coping mechanism for her anticipation and other little things she stressed about. There was nothing of note she found that needed work, but there was something that found her instead.
She mindlessly walked through the dining room and was about to enter the next room, until she had realized that she had zoned out and backed up to check on the room's condition. She slowly walked backwards, looking off to her side to inspect the large table, with chairs evenly distributed around it. However, she should've looked down first. Her right foot stepped on something round, which caused her to stumble and kick it forward from under her. The end result was her on the floor, breathing rushed as she was met with a sudden back pain from falling flat on the floor.
As she began to get up from the floor, she lightly bumped her head on one of the legs of the dining room chairs. While most wouldn't think much of this, (Y/N) on the other hand was almost spooked upon realizing how close her head was to hitting the almost sharp corner of the wooden chair. She did not want to undergo the same trauma that Ireland had. Speaking of which, how was he doing? She didn't know where he was sent for treatment, nor did she know how his condition was. That would be another question she could ask Britain when they have the time, on top of asking him about... that.
But never mind that for now, she needed to find out what tripped her. After getting up, she looked around again, now with extra caution. There were thankfully no other tripping hazards on the floor, other than the culprit of her bit of suffering, which she spotted at the doorway. A cylinder shaped, metallic object caught her eyes, it was a thermos. However, it was not one that belonged to her. She picked it up to take a closer look, sure that someone that attended her little party must've left it here, and her eyes managed to skip over it the past few days.
The thermos had no decor that could indicate who owned it, but it wasn't empty, so she undid the cap and took a whiff of its contents. Chamomile tea, it was definitely chamomile, though she could smell a slight difference given that the tea is cold and had been sitting in the container for some days now. The sent actually made her a bit grateful, as now she knows exactly who it belonged to; Britain. He's probably the only one, even in his own country, that would drink tea instead of even trying a drop of beer at a party. He also isn't one whom (Y/N) would expect to decorate his thermos with custom stickers like everyone else does. And to make herself absolutely positive it was his, she looked at the bottom to read its inscription.
'Made in the United Kingdom'
She knew that countries are often picky with where they buy their stuff from, and Britain wasn't an exception to this unwritten rule. Oh, and the thermos will be another thing she'll have to see him for too.
And then, the moment she'd been waiting for: a knock coming from her front door.
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Somalia was overcome with anxiety. He sat in the green waiting room, eyes focused on only the floor as his right leg involuntarily shook up and down. Nothing could brake him out of his trance. Not the fancy paintings that served as decor, not the many magazines scattering the tables, not the football game on the TV(not that he cared for football), and not even the humans staring at the country they wouldn't expect to have any business in this place.
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Matricaria (Yandere!Britain x Reader) Countryhumans
FanfictionNot even his favorite chamomile tea could calm him anymore, only (Y/N) could. It wouldn't be much harm to have her, right? He could use some extra company in the lonely house. But what if the others want her as well? Britain won't allow that. ...