Trust

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A/N:
Hey guys, just here to explain away a plot hole!!! ':] 
In previous chapters I wrote abt Germany buying clothes- and then bam its like he never put them anywhere or did anything with the extra clothes he bought- It was like he just deposited them in his inventory lmao 

Just pretend he has been carrying the bags around and America let him store the clothes at his house tonight ok? Thanks sm bye bye enjoy the chapter <3


(Germany's POV)

I lay awake on America's couch. 

The whole house was silent. 

I had been staring at the ceiling for who knows how long now, starting to see shapes within the shadows. 

America was kind enough to allow me to stay the night. We had sat on his porch for about an hour, watching the stars in quiet awe. He never once shivered after giving me his coat, and I noticed a multitude of marks and scars on his arms, some looked to be burn scars. 

I wanted to ask about them, but decided we weren't close enough. I mean, it would be insensitive to ask a personal question after stalking him and following him to his home.

Our conversation was minimal and he began to drift to sleep from the alcohol. His jacket was so warm and smelled faintly of the sea, and the bitter smell of cigarette smoke. It kept me warm until he awoke, him trying to hide the fact that he fell asleep. He mumbled that it was late and to follow him inside, and he only casually gestured toward the couch before stumbling off into the hallway. 

Something ate away at me while I stared at the ceiling. 

Maybe it was the anxiety of being stuck here, or perhaps it was the gnawing truth that I found America extrememly attractive. Distractingly- attractive.

I recalled his tired, uncoordinated movements and unkempt hair after he had ran his hands through it- and the way his half lidded eyes gazed at me before he softly said "g'night".

I wanted so badly for my situation to be different. If only I had met him back home, and not by mistake- here on this unfamiliar planet and time line. I wasn't even supposed to be here, this was all just a fuck up. All the more reason for me to ignore these infatuations and delusions. 

I needed to look through his belongings for the capsule. If he had it, he would keep it here, right? Hopefully he doesn't wake up, but of course, part of me wanted him to wake up just so we could continue talking and so I could see his wonderful face again.

Why can't people from my timeline look like him? He is so precious- all of his stars are just so stunning... his stars and shiny mercury hair would be a novelty.

Every fiber of my being told me to not get up- not break his trust like this, but I had to. I had to get home, no matter the cost.

I slowly sat up, thinking of how America catching me and inviting me in was a blessing. I no longer had to break in, he invited me. The room was dark and the blinds were pulled down over the windows. 

Checking the time, I realized it was passed 2 am. I had been lying there for hours... my body was stiff and the couch creaked as I got up. 

I began sifting through the cupboards and drawers in the kitchen, finding various odd looking utensils and packaged food. Most of the things I found I couldn't even identify. What the hell was 'Spam'? 

I used the light from my vital tracker to glide stealthily through the home, taking note of the odd floor plan. The whole house was laid out in a line, with long hallways and an open kitchen/bar counter and living room. I wondered how anyone could manage a space this huge- for just one person at that. 

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