ugly words [UsUk]

Chapter 9

I hate France. The girlish bastard always has to flaunt in my face, and I absolutely can't stand it. Since whatever God is out there hates me, France had to be the one country there to support me.

I was probably better without him. I am a country, England, nevertheless! I am might and powerful! I am strong!

...... Or, I was. Now I can barely stand on my own.

How pitiful I am. Look at this. I can't even mind my words. I've hurt him. I've hurt America without intention.

"England, it's okay. It's okay. America's getting, well, he will get better. Right now, America is on his way to recovering. You should do the same," France coaxed me, "Come on. Don't be selfish enough to stay inside your blanket."

France had taken away all of my knives. Iwas no longer able to cut out his tongue. I had it, but I still hadn't said a word in weeks. "England, answer me."

I didn't even stir. "Why are you beating yourself over this?"

I shook my head. It was all I allowed myself to do. Shrugs and nods. I wanted to limit my communication so I wouldn't hurt anyone anymore. I wanted to be gone, no longer able to hurt the ones near me.

"You should apologize," France suggested. I glared. The last thing America needed was me near him. I'd only make it worse.

I wonder what would happen if I went by and saw him. Come to think of it, I haven't heard a single thing about him lately. I wonder if he got help. What if he's in the hospital? What if he dies? What if America goes into a famine because of me? Will this start a war?

Despite that, I still want to see him. I want to see him more than anything. It hurts, I know, but I know he's hurting more. I can never allow myself to talk to him, or anyone else, ever again.

Was this really the right way to settle things?

"What are you thinking about? Debating whether or not to apologize?" I hated France. I didn't want his advice. He was the only one I had, not that I needed him. If he stays near me still, I'll hurt him too. "I want you to apologize."

I remained quiet. "Are you thinking you don't want to see him? Are you feeling guilty? Toughen up. Least you can do is apologize. It'll help both of you."

I glared. "It hurts. Doesn't it? Worse than anything else before, right?" This, I nodded.

"England," France started suddenly, "You like America. Don't you?"

I didn't move.

"Do you like America?"

Nothing happened.

It was silent between the two of us.

"England. Do you like America?"

I didn't say anything. "More of the reason you need to. I've seen love, many cases, and I haven't seen many couples as close as you two. The way you look at him when you think no one is paying attention. You love him. If you didn't, you wouldn't be holed up in here."

What was this? I loved America?

"Don't give me that damned look. You like him, and you know it. Don't be surprised, England."

This was..... this was weird. I felt sick. I've been in love before and yeah America gave me the throbbing heart and the heat stroke cheeks, but that was because of heat and stuff. I don't like America. Surely, I do not.

Surely.

* * *

Ah yes an update. Surprising.

My short chapters. Fuck me.