USUK oneshots

Stuck

Okay first of all does anyone remember this song?! Like this was my childhood XD. Also I had another oneshot planned but then this song popped in my head and I was like huh, well I don't write many lyric fanfics so here we go! I'll try to have the other one up soon as well, but idk when.

-&-

I can't get out of bed today
Or get you off my mind
I just can't seem to find a way to leave the love behind
I ain't trippin'
I'm just missin' you
You know what I'm saying
You know what I mean

America laid in his bed one morning rolled onto his side. He was fully awake but just couldn't bring himself to get out of bed. He hadn't particularly anything to do later aside from a world meeting, but that wasn't till mid afternoon, so he had a bit of time.

The reason, if you were wondering, as to why he was sulking in bed was because something was on his mind. Or someone for that matter. His fellow country England.

Although he didn't know the exact reason as to why the Brit had suddenly taken control of his thoughts, he had. It had been happening a lot lately.

And man was it confusing to the American... Every time these thoughts would pop up he would have a plethora of different, both good and bad, emotions. He would sometimes get all giddy, almost like a school girl, and just want to gush to everyone about Iggy, making sure to use the nickname the Englishman hated so much. Of course he never did that because it would be far too embarrassing. Other times he would feel sick to his stomach. Like whatever he was feeling was churning his stomach into various tight knots, at some times it was even very difficult for him to eat.

But then sometimes, when he thought of England, a great sadness would wash over him. A lonely kind of sadness, like if you wanted something so badly, more than anything in the world, but you just couldn't get it. He felt like he needed England. With him, always in his arms, in his heart, just with him. Only him. But with their shaky relationship, since the revolutionary war, he knew that was impossible.

So he stayed in bed with that lonely sadness, and pulled the covers over his head, groaning, and letting thoughts of England consume his hole body mind and spirit...

My God. Did he miss him.

You kept me hanging on a string
Why you make me cry
I tried to give you everything
But you just give lies
I ain't trippin'
I'm just missin' you
You know what I'm saying
You know what I mean

England sat at the small breakfast table in his kitchen alone. He had a cup of hot tea, but hadn't decided to eat anything.

The house was so quiet you could only hear the ticking of the clocks. Both the one in the kitchen and the distant clicking of the grand clock in the living room. His breathing was so shallow and light that it had barely made a sound.

The silence was only a dreadful reminder of how utterly alone he was. How utterly alone he'll always be.

He had one person that he ever held so dear to him. America, He gave him everything, but America broke their promise and left him. All alone. Leaving him wondering if maybe there was something wrong with him. Maybe he wasn't capable of having someone. That maybe his loneliness was all his own fault...

After all America had made efforts to be civil after the war, but being the stubborn Englishman he was, he still pushed him away.