The Disappearance of England | Hetalia Fanfic |

Chapter 17

"England? Are you gonna come out? You've been in there for five hours now."

No response.

"England? Are you gonna come out? You've been in there for 8 hours now. Dinner's getting cold! I promise you that it isn't burgers!"

No response.

"England? I'm seriously getting worried dude. It's already morning and you still haven't came down for breakfast. I even made you tea! Well, attempted. But why won't you come out?"

No response.

"England. It's dinner time now. I already let you stay in the entire day! You haven't ate anything since probably two days ago! Aren't you starving?"

No response.

"England. I'm gonna go to bed now. Your dinner is outside if you want it."

No response.

England let out a silent sigh after he heard America walk away. That try to get him out seemed more dejected than all the other attempts. It hurt him to ignore America constantly over and over again, and his stomach probably growled in some agreement.

"The faster I get my magic back, the better. It's better to get out of here as fast as I can then let America waste his time on me. There's no time to dwindle," England thought to himself.

Closing his peridot coloured eyes, he focuses on the magic in his body. Feeling the magic still within him, he tried once again to summon something or even get a breeze to rustle his bed tousled hair. Nothing. His magic was still there, but something was blocking it.

"What could be blocking my magic? This has never happened before. There are so many factors that could be playing into this scenario. But which factor is it? Maybe if I concentrate enough, I'll be able to detect a source of magic that's counteracting my own!"

Shifting his focus over to his surroundings, he focused on the house, the room and area in general. He came up dry, with nothing holding magic but himself.

"Wait, maybe something's been put on my person! If it was a curse or block spell on me, then I would have been able to sense it already."

Opening up his eyes, England felt around his body for anything out of the ordinary, eventually hitting something placed on his dominant arm. Rolling up the sleeve of his shirt and peering at the object; he found a bracelet wrapped snugly around his arm.

"When did this get here?" he thought curiously.

Inspecting the bracelet, he felt a flow of magic coming from it.

"Aha, found it. But where would the countries find something like this? I can only assume that America put it on me. But they don't have anything like this. Unless...Romania and Norway. They're the only ones who can create something like this. And the magic does seem familiar somehow. So they've become involved in this as well. Great, more countries."

Letting out an exhale of air from the realisation then breathing, he pushed away the thoughts. He took the bracelet and started to pull it off. It was fit snugly on.

"Let's play how many different ways England can try and fail at getting this blasted thing off."

He tried many different ways, ranging from a simple slip off to biting it off to ripping it in half. Nothing he tried worked and he found himself stumped for ways to take it off.

"If I can't get this dang thing off of me, then there's no hope of me leaving. I'll have to wait. I'm positive he'll grow tired of me and end up kicking me out. Then I'll be free to live my life away from everyone. Because if America can't stand me, then surely all the other countries would feel the same way."

With those final thoughts in his head, he lay down and went to sleep. His sleeve was still pushed up, revealing the bracelet in perfectly good condition with no sign of wear or tear.

Meanwhile over in America's room, the proclaimed hero had thoughts in his head as well. But his thoughts wouldn't leave him in peace.

"If I come out tomorrow and see his dinner still outside his door, then I'll make sure it'll be outside the room instead. I'll break down the door. And if he protests, then I'll drag him down. He needs to eat! Why would he force himself to suffer like this? There's no use thinking about it anymore. Sleep time! Hopefully."

The next day came soon for the two nations. The sun was already high in the sky with the birds chirping noisily.

"Shhh birds! The hero needs his sleep! Go bother Iggy or something!" he complained.

Then realisation hit him in the face like stones hitting birds.

"That dinner better not be there! I spent time on that!"

Getting out of bed and putting his glasses on quickly, he dashed out of the room to the guest room. There, outside of the door, sat a lonely plate of cold untouched food.

England was having a peaceful rest, with no fitful turns or bothersome dreams. That's until a door went flying over his head and bounced off the wall onto the ground. He woke up startled, green eyes alert for the intruder in the room. Swiftly scanning the room, he found a figure standing there.

"You haven't ate for almost three days now! England, you're coming with me downstairs now! We are going to fill you with food! And you will eat!" America announced to the still startled England, marching over.

"I'm not hungry," England rapidly said, immediately turning back over to sleep.

"No! It's my duty to make sure you eat something!"

America picked up England with no effort, frowning at the weight, or lack of weight he felt on his shoulder. England wasn't even protesting much, only weakly saying he wasn't hungry.

Preparing breakfast for the two of them only took a few minutes. He put the plate down in front of England first, before going to the other side with his own plate. America stared at him, waiting for him to take a bite.

"America," England sighed. "I'm not hungry. I can't eat all of this."

"But you haven't ate for a while! You need the food!" America protested.

England let out another sigh before picking up his fork and taking a few slow bites. Too quickly for America's standards did he stop eating.

"Thank you for the breakfast America," England said quietly.

He turned around and started to head back up the stairs before being stopped by a certain American.

"But you barely ate anything!" America told him upset with his eyes widening.

"You told me that I'll eat. And I did. You never specified the amount," England pointed out.

He left the American standing there feeling sad at the lack of emotion the Brit held. What was he going to do with him?

So this is late by a lot of hours. Usually I post stuff at 2, but I had school then practice and stuff. So this is extremely late. I apologise for that! Do you ever feel left out by people in class and feel hurt, but you know it's for the better because then someone may feel the exact same way? And then you feel like you're being too sensitive and shouldn't be hurt? I'm rambling, hope you guys are going to enjoy the weekend!
See ya at the next update!
- Starlite