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Post by America on Jul 8, 2012 19:38:06 GMT -5
America noticed England's flushed face and smiled, pleased he wasn't the only one that was nervous to be this close to each other. "I'm not stupid. And, if I am, that's also your fault." He began sweeping the salt up into the dustpan, trying to hurry so that he could get back to cooking (and get away from the awkward air that seemed to be only when they were both on the floor together- America was suspecting there was some sort of ghostly activity making them feel this way, because he totally wasn't suffering from anxiety at the moment).
"But I'm not stupid. I'm all sorts of intelligent." He didn't even know if that was a phrase to describe intelligence, but it worked. Besides, he wanted to focus his eyes on the salt that he was supposed to be sweeping up, not at anything else.
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Post by England on Jul 8, 2012 19:51:02 GMT -5
"Yeah, you know how to make the difference between two burgers sold at different junk food joints. Many people would just say both of them are horrid, disgusting and unappealing to both the eye and the palate, but you, America, you're special. You can tell which one tastes worse than the other." England gruffly replied, keeping his eyes on the grains of salt being swept into the dustpan to avoid a wandering gaze. "Tch. Sometimes, you'd think I could've done something to prevent this, but it often seems like your stupidity was like a terminal disease from the start." And something inside of him promptly told him to shut up, because he was fully aware that he was speaking for the sake of speaking, so that he wouldn't have to keep silent and bear with the pressuring silence that came afterwards. He hated not having anything to say when he was this close to America.
It made him feel like the communication between them was falling apart, and the last thing he ever wanted was to lose his privilege of being around America and just enjoying his presence.
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Post by America on Jul 8, 2012 20:58:42 GMT -5
"Are you, like, in a grumpy mood or something?" America asked, noticing a spot that he had missed. He swept that up, now glancing at England. "I mean, I know it's early morning and stuff, but you're being kinda mean, ya know? Look, I'm sorry the salt spilled everywhere, but you don't have to sit here calling me stupid 'cause of it." America puffed his cheeks out in annoyance, continuing to sweep and averting his eyes yet again. Geez, and he hadn't even really done anything. He just didn't want the grits to taste like complete crap, because he could only guess what went on in England's mind when the island nation entered a kitchen.
He could have just left it like that, but now it felt even worse than before. He hated this silence that was filling the room. He thought that things would be different, what with everything that had gone on between them. He thought they would be talking and talking and holding hands and all that other stuff that came with relationships. With a sigh, America added, "McDonald's tastes better than Burger King. Just an FYI." Well, it wasn't the truly inspirational message he wanted to spew from his mouth, but it was close enough.
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Post by England on Jul 8, 2012 22:01:47 GMT -5
England couldn't help but feel an uneasy feeling churn in his gut. He really didn't want to come off as offensive (he always did), but now that he had, he sure as hell wouldn't be apologizing (he never did). He just didn't know how to go about things. What he could or could not say to America. What he could or could not do.
This relationship thing had just started, and it already made England feel awkward. He felt like there were boundaries that had been set around them, boundaries that had never been there before, and that, if crossed, could lead to the utter destruction of the relationship they were committed to. He'd been confident last time they'd been alone together, because he'd been running on adrenaline, and the fear that he would never again be able to show America how much he meant to him. Now... There was none of that to back him up, and England was afraid- afraid that he wouldn't be able to show the same passion without that desperation, afraid that he wouldn't be good enough, afraid that he wouldn't meet America's expectations-
"Whatever. I-I'm going to... Just..." he looked around awkwardly and got up, immediately going for the trash bin to empty his dustpan. "... Stay here." he finally decided, fidgeting and refusing to turn around.
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Post by America on Jul 8, 2012 22:18:33 GMT -5
America nodded, still on the ground. Ah, crap. He knew he was being far too rude right now. He knew how England acted, he knew England meant nothing by what he said. He just had to go and use his big, fat mouth to make England feel bad, though. With a quiet groan, he buried his head in the palm of his hand. Dammit, did he always have to screw everything up? Yeah, England was about to ruin the grits, but he should have just stopped him and left it at that.
Oh. The girts. And the bacon. "Shit!" America exclaimed, jumping to his feet (and succeeding in stirring up a lot of the salt that they hadn't yet cleaned up). He quickly went over to the bacon and turned the stove off, noticing with a sinking heart that the pieces he had laid on were a lovely color of black. The grits were bubbling and clearly done, but they looked okay, so he turned that burner off, as well, and stepped back to survey the damage.
"Maybe they won't be able to taste the burnt pieces," he said, scrunching his nose up with the unpleasant stench of burnt meat.
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Post by England on Jul 8, 2012 22:27:15 GMT -5
"You should've let me handle them." England huffed in a tone that he refused to admit was sulky. "I told you you'd ruin breakfast." The words came out of his mouth quicker than he expected, and he couldn't even stop himself. Was that what he had become? A cruel person whose formerly greatest asset, his words, had now become his worst default? He didn't want that. He briefly wondered if telling America something nice, for once, would burn his tongue clean off.
Maybe America would just look at him weirdly and wonder what was wrong with him. Maybe America just wouldn't get used to the nicer side of him, if he made efforts to draw it out. Maybe this was how they were doomed to be: the couple made of an oblivious, immature American and an aloof, insecure Brit. The communication between them was... quite pathetic, if he dared say so himself.
He momentarily considered dying again, hoping that desperate times would bring back the love that had made them both so happy beforehand. But he never did go on with that idea, because he didn't want America to cry. He didn't want anyone to cry anymore.
"Just put it in." he muttered, still facing the wall. "They'll be waking soon, so we shouldn't get picky. Everybody knows that this isn't a five-star restaurant, so they won't mind a few pieces of burned bacon."
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Post by America on Jul 9, 2012 6:43:00 GMT -5
With a sigh, America removed the burnt bacon from the pan, a little bit annoyed with himself. Wasn't he trying to prove he was a far better cook than England? And he had seriously let this happen? If this was the best he could do, he probably deserved those words from England. "Yeah," he said mournfully, wishing he had paid more attention. He had forgotten how fast bacon was able to cook.
He then turned from the food and glanced at England, opening his mouth to say something. Nothing came out, though. He wasn't even sure what he wanted to announce. Holding back another sigh, he realized that it wasn't just the bacon he was ruining. Their relationship really wasn't supposed to be like this. He wanted to somehow fix it, but, having never done something like this before, he wasn't sure what to do. Why couldn't they just laugh and converse lightly as they had done before?
"Um...do you wanna keep cleaning, maybe?" he finally asked. "There isn't much left, I guess, so we can be done super fast and get back to cooking and so long as you don't-" Ah, there he went again, trying to be rude when he didn't have to be. Backing his sentence up slightly, America gave a forced grin. "I meant we can get back to cooking and you can add in the bacon to the grits while I start on the eggs."
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Post by England on Jul 9, 2012 18:55:35 GMT -5
"Anything that'll get things done around here quicker." the entire atmosphere felt awkward now, and England just needed to leave before he made things worse. There always seemed to be something he couldn't take back, in every conversation he had with anybody at all. "Give me the bacon, I'll do it." he grumbled, putting his hands out expectantly and looking away with the trademark blush on his cheeks. "Just get to work on those eggs before somebody bursts in here and demands to be a part of this all."
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Post by America on Jul 9, 2012 20:18:55 GMT -5
"Yeah, alright." America cleared his throat and handed the plate of bacon over to England. He tried avoiding his gaze, but as it turned out, England was already doing a good job at that. They weren't communicating well, they weren't even trying to make anything better. America wanted to, goodness knows he did, but he didn't know what would be acceptable and what wouldn't. If he acted as immature as he usually did, would England just continue to get angrier? And, if he decided to be serious and/or romantic, or something, wouldn't that just make them both flustered? Or, rather, more flustered than they already were.
He turned the stove back on and poured the bacon in the pan, already prepared to just make a load of scrambled eggs. And, yet, he didn't want to do it in silence. "Er, I'm j-just asking, but...what...what changed between us, since...ya know. I thought things would be di-dfferent, um...but it's kinda...not. Maybe a lot more, like, awkward and stuff, but..." He blushed, keeping his eyes on the eggs he was cooking.
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Post by England on Jul 9, 2012 21:03:33 GMT -5
England suddenly found the room a little bit too hot for his liking and found himself loosening his collar a little.
"Y-You're so embarrassing, asking questions like that..." he blushed, fidgeting and trying to buy himself some time. Would America be upset if he didn't answer at all? 'Tis better to keep your mouth shut and be suspected a fool, then open it and remove all doubt, after all. But somehow, he knew that this was his fault, and his responsibility. America wouldn't be the only one making effort. He should be too, no matter how awkward or humiliating the topic became.
It was for them. For their relationship's sake. And England... he didn't want to let go of that relationship. Not now, not ever- not when it was one of the rare things holding him together.
"I... I told you we'd go on dates... And laugh like there was no tomorrow..." he cleared his throat, feeling entirely uncomfortable. "I promised you all that, b-but... M-Maybe I won't be able to give you what I promised in a time where I thought that promises would remain spirit lifters until they were all broken and tossed aside forever..."
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Post by America on Jul 9, 2012 21:29:20 GMT -5
America felt a bit stupid now. He shouldn't have asked. He didn't even want to know anymore. Perhaps they weren't cut out for a relationship. Or, rather, a romantic relationship. Despite all the love he carried for England, maybe it just wouldn't work. Maybe it was just all that adrenaline and fear that led them to say those things. Maybe they would never be fully functional partners.
He sighed, slowly scrambling the eggs across the frying pan, though he felt as if he was losing his appetite. Well, that meant more for the other countries, at least.
"So...everything we said was kinda just to...to have something to hang onto? It...it didn't mean anything to you?" He still couldn't turn around, still couldn't look England in the eye. There was no way he'd be able to, and he felt cowardly for keeping his back turned, for not facing him. He just couldn't.
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Post by England on Jul 9, 2012 21:53:38 GMT -5
"NO!" England immediately exclaimed, whirling around, eyes wide in panic. He didn't want America to think that this didn't mean a thing to him, because that would be a lie. America meant the world to him, and he wouldn't give up his love for him for anything in the universe. How did he go about explaining what was wrong without totally destroying his pride as well?
"You mean... a lot to me, alright? T-That's not the point..." England quieted down a bit, heart thumping madly and causing waves of nausea to rise up periodically. "I meant everything I said, and I do..." he gulped down. "I do... love you, but..." It was frustrating, how unwilling he was to explain properly. For all he knew, he was making it worse. "All these... promises... I wanted us to have something to look forward to..." he just didn't know if he would be able to live up to America's expectations. And he didn't want anyone to be let down- not him, and certainly not America.
"Don't worry, I'll be back very soon, alright? As soon as I can, I promise."
England had always hated making promises he couldn't keep. Especially to America, who had gotten one too many of those already.
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Post by America on Jul 9, 2012 22:49:52 GMT -5
England had always been unsure of how to act. Even when America was trying to become friends with him after the Revolution, England never really wanted to show his true feelings. He didn't seem to know how to show his true feelings. America guessed he had always kept them bottled up, to save both himself and others from heartbreaks.
He turned around at England's words, giving him a gentle stare. "I look forward to every moment I get to spend with you, England, even if we're fighting worse than cats and dogs." Which was such a horribly cheesy thing to say, but America could care less at the moment. Without stopping to think, he quickly grabbed one of England's hands. "I...I love you, too, England. And, well...now that we're kinda faced with reality, I...I know we won't be able to live out some of those, uh...promises. I think that, um...anything we do together is fine, actually. Besides, most of that romantic shit sometimes flies right over my head, ya know?"
He squeezed England's hand, offering him a small, nervous smile. "So it might not be a complete fairytale like I wanted it to be, but it'll be awesome. Even if it's just like this, that's cool." Maybe one day they could live out those fairytales, maybe one day all of America's selfish wishes would come true, but for now, it was alright.
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Post by England on Jul 10, 2012 20:21:31 GMT -5
England looked up at him, eyes wide in surprise, and blushed, unable to bear his gaze. He felt awkward and unworthy of holding the hand of someone as amazing as America. Sometimes, he just wanted to pinch himself and make sure he wasn't having delusions. And his heart jumped for joy when he realized this was all real- them holding hands, America's smile, his own blissful happiness...
"Surprising. It seems you can be sensible sometimes." England chuckled nervously, noting that his sarcasm seemed to fail every time he was sincere around America. It was like his walls were falling, and surprisingly enough, he didn't mind it if America saw how he really was underneath the layers he piled upon his true self.
"Fairy tales are full of it, so let's not count on those, but..." he found it in himself to smile a little at how adorably ridiculous America was acting with all his sappy comments and actions (that he didn't personally dislike, mind you). England felt amazing, knowing that he was the only one who could benefit from this treatment. He liked feeling unique, appreciated and special. And he liked how America was the only one that could make him feel that way. "We can write a story of our own, right?" he suggested in a small whisper, nervous that he'd gotten too sappy for America's tastes.
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Post by America on Jul 10, 2012 21:21:58 GMT -5
"'Course we can!" America exclaimed loudly, now grinning. "And, if I have anything to say about it, it'll end with 'and they lived happily ever after'." Because he truly wanted to live forever with England. He truly wanted them both to be happy the rest of their lives. And, with a start, he realized he didn't even mind the fighting. He could handle it, because that was always how they communicated. They fought, they insulted, and they mocked, but it was never out of malice. Neither of them had ever taken anything too seriously before. It was just how they worked and America didn't want any of that to change.
"We're gonna keep on at it like an old married couple, though," he stated, nodding in satisfaction. "Honestly, I think if we were all, like, silly teenagers who cried at every little fight they got into, I'd be a bit scared. Hell, the day we actually act super-duper nice to each other, without one mean word uttered and frigging smiles all the time, I'm gonna be scared outta my mind." His eyes twinkled in joy at his sudden love for their bickering. "But, since we're totally in love and all that, I still get to do things like this without you beatin' me to a pulp."
And, quickly enough so that England wouldn't move back flustered (or so that he himself wouldn't chicken out), America leaned forward and gave England a big smack on the lips, smirking once he pulled away (and blushing just a bit- kissing England like that would really take some getting used to). "And you can't kill me 'cause you love me."
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