Our Little Secret. [NO MORE UPDATES SORRY]

Chapter 5.

Britain stepped off the train. He took a deep breath and prepared for what was coming. He turned the corner and stood there for a moment before sighing.

"I know you're there France,"

France popped up from behind a few rubbish bags.

"How did you know that I was hiding there?"

"You smell of baguettes and wine. It's quite a recognisable scent,"

"Right,"

France got up and ran towards Britain.

"Sooooooooooo, where were you last night?" France's lips curled into a tiny smirk.

Due to the air raids in the Great War, Britain was staying with France at the moment. Until he could rebuild his home at least.

"It isn't any of your business France!"

France crossed his arms at observed Britain. Everybody gangsta 'til the country crosses their arms.

"Ok. Simpler question then,"

France pointed to Britain's arm.

"Why do you have a bandage on?"

"Still none of your business,"

France shrugged and made a type of face that he knew would annoy Britain.

"What's with that face?"

Terrible image quality but I want people to be able to visualise shit that I can see cause my brain is more broke than my wallet.

France chuckled and began walking towards his house.

"It's nothing now come on. I'm gonna paint your nails when we get back to my place,"

"WAIT WHAT?!"

"What?"

France stopped and turned around to face Britain.

"Why do you want to do that?!"

"Oh," France grabbed Britain's arm and began dragging him away. Britain started flailing and trying to get away from France's grasp.

"Because I want to,"

I give up.

Yeah, me too.

Britain stopped flailing and began walking with France.

"Don't worry, mon ami. I'll paint them black!"

Britain mumbled a little 'thanks' under his breath.

Soviet walked through the town following Russia's orders and shit like that. He couldn't speak to him without being labelled as batshit cray-cray. So he used his own thoughts to communicate with him instead. I don't know how this works and I'm the twat that wrote the fucking thing.

Are you sure this is where he lives?

Positive. Trust me on this one Soviet. We'll figure out what you can do thanks to him.

How exactly?

He just has the knowledge and experience on this one.

We could've gone to anyone else but no. We just HAD to come to a random town in Germany to try and find this guy.

Calm down. You're almost there.

Good. I just wanna get this ove-

Oh! Make a right here.

Soviet made a right angle of a turn and walked down the road. There was only one house on this road. Do all countries just live desperate from their people? Eh. How the fuck would I know?

He walked up to the house and knocked on the door. The door opened almost immediately and the guy they were looking for stood there, not looking to happy.

"What do you want?" He asked, his tone flat and dead.

"Hi Germany. I was just wondering if-"

Soviet was cut off. This motherfucker wants to cut off the child? That's it! Sophie hold my tea. Jokes jokes.

"One. I go by Weimar now. And two. I thought I told everyone to leave me the fuck alone,"

"Oh sorry I wasn't aware,"

Weimar sighed and opened the door wider and let Soviet in.

"What can I do for you Soviet?"

"Can you teach me about the magic that countries possess?"

"Straight to the point. I like that,"

Suddenly there was a crash and the sound of glass shattering. Weimar acted as if this was a normal occurrence.

"Yo! Germs, have ya got my house keys?!" The two heard a yell. Sounded like America.

"They're in the bowl on the counter," Weimar yelled back.

"Thanks!"

There was some shuffling and another crash until Weimar turned back towards Soviet.

"Sorry about that,"

"It's.. ok,"

Weimar beckoned for Soviet to sit down in a chair across from him and also sat down.

"So you want to learn about magic?"

"Yes,"

"Well you've come to the right place,"