Letters of the past

Ch. 1

No one's POV

On a sunny day in June, an American hastily walks through the streets of Italy. The hot sun is shining on the beautiful buildings of Rome. He quickens his pace, sprinting through it's busy streets, running past people. He stops in front of a big modern building. The building stands tall around the old and historic buildings of Rome. He gives the building a glace before rushing inside, sprinting through its halls. He stops at one door near the end of the hallway.

He swings open the door, revealing a conference room filled with people. Someone was standing up, as if giving a presentation. The people looks his way as he puffs out by the door. 

"Where the bloody hell have you been?!"

The Brit looks at him with an annoyed look. His hand were over each other, as if this has been the millionth time that it happend. 

"Sorry dudes, I got lost on the way here. But not fear, the hero is here!"

A few sigh as the American spoke. Some giving him looks of annoyance, others looking pissed off. An Italian stands up and waves at the American.

"Ve~ I'm-a glad you are able to come." The Italian said with a smile on his face.

The cheerfulness of the Italian lighten the mood of the meeting for a bit. But then a blond male sitting beside the Italian stands up. He gives the American a stern look.

"America, just take your seat already." A German accent came through this person voice. He sat down, letting off a sigh. The Italian holds the hand of the German, which gave him a little blush. 

The American walked to left side left on the table. There was an empty chair waiting for him. It had an American flag and and an name tag that said:

The United States of America 
(USA)
Alfred F. Jones

He smiles as he takes a seat on the chair and looks around the room. This was an unusual meeting, seeing that almost every country is present. Almost. He scans he room as he checks his seating arrangement. To his left he is greeted by a Japanese man.

The American nods in response, happy to have a nice person sitting beside him. But as he looks to his right however, a slight shiver runs through his spine. Because seated beside him is a big Russian. America gulps, already nervous by the fact that one of his greatest enemies is right beside him. Russia gives America a slightly creepy glance before returning to the meeting. 

America looks to two bickering countries arguing. The two blonds are in a heavy discussion, their voices slowly increasing. 

"Angelettere, if you just stop that hideous cooking of yours, the world would haven't have global warming!"

"Says the one who eats snail for a living you frog!"

"At least they taste good!"

"My scones can easily beat your slime-fest!"

"How can someone eat your food. C'est merde!"(it is rubbish/shit)

"No It isn't."

"It is!"

"Not!"

"Is!"

And that just repeats itself. Spain on the other hand is trying to give Romano affection, with which the Italian dismisses every attempt. The BeNeLux are just talking to each other, mainly discussing the plans for the tulip trade. Germany is talking with Austria and Hungary, while Prussia was talking to Canada. The Nordics were talking about trading deals, with Denmark who was annoying Norway to the bone. Italy was just quietly enjoying some pasta he made that morning and Japan was drawing some manga. China was talking to Hong-Kong and South-Korea about some family business. And Russia was muttering something about "Vanya".