Unpromised Home

stalled progression

'in which you think briefly about fear'

You blink in rapid succession, eyes reeling from the sudden change in light. The door slams shut behind you, and you glance over your shoulder. Your eyes adjust to the interior lighting, registering the dark wood details that hold the doors glass panes.

"Finally!" A voice calls, a scoff of impatience riding on its tone. You glance forward again, over America's shoulder toward the figure standing in the foyer.

"Relax D.C." America sighs lowly, "We're here now, are we not?"

"Only two hours late!" You watch the capital city cross his arms, a clip board filled with paper dangling from one of his hands, "Let's go! They've been waiting for you."

D.C. turns quickly. He walks to the far end of the room, disappearing beyond a corner. You blink, staring at the empty space.

"Who's they supposed to be?"

"No clue." America takes off across the floor leaving you alone in his wake.

You rub the corners of your eyes, a sigh spilling from your lips. Did you really sleep till noon today? You haven't felt this exhausted in ages. You guess spur of the moment philosophy really tires you out. Who would have known?

You follow after the country, dragging your feet as you make your way across the floor. Your hands burn in discomfort, adjusting from freezing temperatures, to the warmth of the indoors. A sigh slips from your lips, and you cross your arms over your chest.

As you enter the next hallway, you spot America at the end of the hall. His arms gesture with angry jabs as he engages in a quiet conversation with D.C.. The whispers were harsh and jagged, spilling into the hall as you approach closer with each step.

"She is not going in there!"

"Where am I not going?" You let out a yawn as you come to a stop behind the country.

America stares down at you, "To the meeting [Name]. Try to keep up."

"I just got here."

"Exactly."

You let out a sigh, digging your shoe into the floor, scuffing the ball of your foot across the smooth surface. You place your hands in your pockets, before speaking again, "So what? Can I just go home now?"

"No..."

"And why is that...?" You trail off into a yawn, tears welling in the corners of your eyes. You blink them away, fighting off of a successive yawn. America stands in silence as you struggle to not fall asleep standing up.

"Well, whatever it is you decide to do with her America, make it quick because-"

"America. I see you've finally gotten rid of those glasses of yours." Your eyes widen as you stare at the man who had appeared in the doorway, "Unfortunate that you still seem to value your time over everyone elses."

"Listen you old geezer..."

"Oh? Now who is this?" The personification United Kingdom did not infact listen to America, and instead turns his attention towards you. "I don't believe we've met before."

"Uh..." You feel your heart begin to beat rapidly in your chest. "That's probably because we haven't met before."

"Right..." He stares down at you, complete and total apathy in his tone, "What's your name then?"

"It's-"

"Her name is [Name] [Surname]." America speaks through gritted teeth, "She's my assistant, Britain."