A Different AmeriPan Story

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1. This Is My Whole Story



A Very Different AmeriPan Story


A Hetalia Headcannon By: Lillian J. Hughes






July 29th, present day, and just another world meeting at the United Nations building. Not everyone has shone up yet, and I’m tapping my fingers in frustration. As Italy tries to settle my nerves with a joke that only makes things worse, Japan gathers everyone present into the conference room: himself, Italy, I Germany, America, Britain, France, China, Russia, Hungary, Prussia, Austria, Canada, Romano, Spain, Switzerland, Lichtenstein, and Cuba. Ready to get started, I give a synopsis of our last world meeting and look around, seeing that we still came up short in members. By now France and Britain had spiked up an argument over eggbeaters of all things, Prussia and Hungary were ready to throw down, and that look of barley contained stupidity has appeared on America’s face again; to shut the frog and scone up, keep Prussia from getting his butt whooped in front of everyone, and to stop whatever idiotic thing America is about to say (probably along the lines of “I’m the Hero!”), I call upon Italy for a motion. Sadly but not surprisingly, Italy yells out that we should create a national pasta day to end world hunger. Silencing the room with a glare, though I know the quiet would not last long, I wrack my brain on what to do next. My eyelids start growing heavy and I rub them. I think I’ve been stressing out too much on work lately. Actually, everyone in the room is yawning and fluttering their eyelids, even laying their heads down to rest on the table. Too late, I realize something is up, and cursing at myself in German I unnaturally fall asleep alongside the others.

I wake up in a small, poorly lit room, a single lightbulb hanging above my head. Glancing quickly around I see that everyone from the meeting is here. We are all cramped side by side, handcuffed to… what? Each and every one of us are handcuffed to a black box aglow with flashing buttons. The strange machine takes up most of the room, making it’s already stifling small volume even more cramped. A sudden yet familiar chill fills the air, and to my right I watch as Russia’s evil aura surrounds his whole body, and the man that could’ve come from a horror film gives his cuffs a great YANK! Aru, he gives me the geebees! But yet nothing happens. Now even more confused, I see everyone is trying to brake, pick-lock, and in France’s case sweet talk (he must be doped up on SOMETHING) their cuffs off, and all fail. With a small jerk I find out that I am just as stuck as the others. A haunting voice fills the air surrounding us in an eerie cocoon. High pitched and synthesized, it tells us that his name is Bob. Bob the Menacing to be exact, but Bob for short. After that bit of useless information, he also tells us that the handcuffs are in fact unbreakable, and that in order to free ourselves, we must obey all of Bob the Menacing’s rules. Russia exclaims that nothing is unbreakable and then is promptly electrocuted by the box. Bob the Mena, oh just Bob, says that everyone will experience their darkest fears. A simultaneous beep sounds and the buttons on the machine glow green. The voice came again, this time laughing. He states that the moment he said fears, we had all thought of our worst nightmares, and now box had picked up every last one of them. He calls the box the Memory Projection Machine, or MPM for short. As his “baby” that he built himself, Bob says that his machine has the power to project the memories of those linked to it, specifically memories that inspite fear. The only way to free ourselves is to truthfully admit our fears, and the MPM will know if we we’re lying. Great, I think, were going to die of dehydration before we all admit our secrets. Or maybe the need of a bathroom from the way Spain is fidgeting. I see Germany’s eyes grow steel cold, and he takes a step forward. But then Italy suddenly jumps up and yelps that he would go first. Before Germany can protest Italy reveals his fear: he will never get to see “her” again. After a few confused faces and raised eyebrows (France has that little annoying ‘LOVER’ smirk on his face) Italy’s handcuffs click off his hands. Claiming that he just wanted to get it over with, Germany went next: Italy would die. Pretty predictable. America’s was more interesting, for he was afraid that we would see his scars. I don’t think he’s being literal, but you never know with that one. Britain’s isn’t interesting, just plain weird: that he would see Morgarath again. Then again, I’ve never understood these people. Next up is France: seeing Joan’s ghost. I don’t know who this Joan lady is, but the utter look of sadness, no brokenness, on his face when he said it really surprises me. Russia says he fears nothing, and Bob’s voice utters a good old fashioned ‘really’?!? But his cuffs come off all the same. Austria claims that he’s afraid of his degrading health. Ha! I KNEW that black dot on his face was the plague. Canada: crabs. Cuba: earthquakes. Switzerland’s is so cute: he’s scared of little Lichtenstein growing up into a strong young woman and leaving him. But hey, look at what happened to America and Britain. Lichtenstein then promptly boke our hearts with her fear: Switzerland will abandon her because he’ll find her useless. A few tears later and a flustered Switzerland, Romano admits that he is also afraid of Italy dying. Sweet, but Spain beats him there: fear of hurting Romano in any way, aw. Both Hungary and Prussia talk at the same time, Hungary: she doesn’t want others to know she loves Prussia, and Prussia: that Hungary will find out that he loves her. BLUSHING IS EVERYWHERE GUYS JUST YES!!! Okay, breathe. Now it looks like the newfound lovers want to kill each other yet again, and I enjoy a good show and all, but Spain can’t hold out much longer and that is a show I DO NOT want to see. I interrupt the showdown with my biggest fear: that I’ll relive the nightmare of my childhood. Everyone’s looking at me now of course, for I have never told anyone about THAT, and hopefully I never will have to. Now all that’s left is….. Japan. He is slowly approaching the box with a face I know all too well, a mask of blank expression to hide what he is truly feeling. I raised him, so maybe I can guess what he’s so scared of, eh? Japan speaks: he is deadly afraid of anyone finding out what he really is. Oh, it’s that. I didn’t know it still bothered him after all these years. No one else but he and I know, and my thought is confirmed with all the curious glances going around. The last link is broken and we all breathe a sigh of relief. My body suddenly feels comfortably heavy and my eyelids droop. Oh damn you Bob! I can’t even speak…

Whoa, after that last blackout I feel so hyped up, kinda like the time I ate a bunch of Britain’s sugar-spiked chocolate! Yep, everyone’s here again… wherever here is. All I see is a giant space of whiteness surrounding us. Man, this is so cool dude! I tell Britain this and he just gets ticked, lecturing me about “taking this seriously” and “stop being such a complete idiot.” I always get a crack out of hearing him say “idiot” like “igiot.”  Gasps fly around the room, err space, and I turn to find that one, two, three…… seventeen! Wow, seventeen doors just appeared and I’m pretty sure they weren’t there before. Bob the Menacing booms at us, but before he says much I yell a hello at him and he gets all mad at me. Well, excuse ME for trying to be polite! Slightly miffed, Bob tells us that each door represents a fear and that we must open them all in order to get out of this place, once and for all. Yeah! Not that this isn’t fun, but I have pilates with Poland later and I don’t wanna rain check my pal just for Bob. We’re all now glancing at each other, waiting to see who’s going first. Apparently Bob has plans later too, cause pipes up to tell us that we must go in the order that we spoke our secrets. So Italy shakes and wobbles to the far door on the left, opens it, and suddenly we are in a whole new world. It’s raining and I see this tiny kid, red brown hair and running in a white dress (pfft seriously) and falling to the ground. In a pitiful voice he cries out something in Italian. I hear a much louder sob coming from Romano, okay. Back to the kid, some old lady lifts him up and carries him into… a café? This is really confusing, but one look at Italy’s face and I know this was real. This actually happened. As we all follow the lady in the shop I see the little boy sitting at a table, looking really sad. The woman comes from the kitchen with a large bowl of steaming pasta that smells so good it makes my mouth water. Can you eat in a memory? I’m pretty sure this is a memory of someone’s and... I just realized. This is Italy’s memory. And that sickly boy is baby Italy. The little boy sniffs the food and asks what it is. The old woman tells him it is pasta and feeds some into his mouth. The child chews, and the cutest dang smile I have ever witnessed breaks out on that little ball of preciousness’s face. I mean, man! I have never seen anything sweeter than a tiny Italy eating a giant bowl of pasta with joy. After he finishes, the door to the café opens and a tall handsome man enters. I hear little Italy squeal “Grandpa Rome” and he runs to his open arms. The memory fades into a blur. But I still don’t understand, how is this Italy’s greatest fear? Then the Italian explains that one day he got lost at the age of a five-year old, and for two days he could not find his home or any food. A small café owner took pity on him and gave him a big bowl of pasta, his very first dish of pasta, and it will always be his favorite dish of pasta that he had ever tasted. Since the lady was very old when he met her, Italy fears that he will someday find her grave and never be able to thank her for what she did. Without her, Italy and his entire country would have died. Whoa. The feelz. Okay, Germany is tearing up and Romano and MAN I am too! But we have to press on, so Germany opens his door. This time I can tell it’s not a memory. It just doesn’t feel right. Suddenly a large plain opens before us, and we see an intense battle going on. A Germany decked out in general gear is yelling and running towards an Italy dressed similarly. And then everything goes into to slow motion as a grenade falls right on Italy’s head… oh. Germany said he was afraid of this, but I didn’t think of it like this…. And afterwards Germany tells us that he was not just scared of Italy dying, but that because Germany failed to protect his best friend, his blood is on his hands. We appear in the white space and we all have a moment of silence for the fake Italy’s death. And have to move right along to my door. This’ll be great….. and then I open the door. We appear on the same old battlefield again, and I see Britain and I fighting. My brother raises his gun, and then drops to ground crying and I just stand there like the arrogant fool I was. I mean, I wanted my freedom, but not like this. Then we’re at the Alamo, and I watch as my men drop like flies. Next we’re in California, and some Californians are raising their flag of independence, trying to be their own country. Heh, that didn’t last long. A dramatic change of scenery brings us to the modern nighttime streets of New York City, and we stand there watching a man get mugged. Man, when the robbers threw him against a nearby car, it felt like I was the one crashing into that Subaru. It ends with that. I have to sit down after that. It’s hard, but I say to the group that I have to be strong. Strong so I can bear the scars of my country constantly being torn apart and put back together through wars, state border fights, and more recently the rising worries of the modern world: obesity, rape, debt, homelessness. Always being so cheerful and happy on the outside, I fear that everyone (most of all Britain) will find out how broken I am and pity me, or worse, doubt if I can still be my own country and get picked apart bit by bit by others, and then be forced to move back in with Britain, stripped of all freedom. I force a real fake sounding laugh and point to my brother. He walks to his door without a word and turns the handle. He mentioned he was afraid of something like Mitchell or Mark, something with an M and I don’t care. We’re all standing in a child’s bedroom, and a flying ball of golden light passes by. The light hovers above the face of a sleeping boy. Looking closer, I realize that ball of light is really a fairy! With those pointy ears and tiny features that is no doubt a fairy, complete with a delicate body frame. She leans down and plants her minuscule lips on the boy’s, and then leaves with a flash. In a different scene we see what I can assume is a young Britain playing with a… UNICORN!?! And then the sky turns blood-red and we get lost in a crowd of fantasies, from leprechauns to trolls, and wait is that Captain Hook? Ug, this is all too much. Then there’s a grown-up Britain in front of the crowd directing them to…but then the scene changes again and we see a lone troll talking to the golden fairy from before, and then it finally ends. Back in the white space we all look at Britain for a clue on what the HECK just happened. So apparently as a newborn, a fairy kissed Britain on the lips to give him the power to see all magical creatures. Secretly, Britain had lead the troupes of all things make-believe in order to bring down a demon king called Morgarath. Without his help, Morgarath and his evil army would have crossed the dimensions and destroyed the world. So in short, BRITAIN SAVED THE WORLD. A fortune telling troll foresaw all this and had ordered the fairy to kiss him in the first place. But Britain still fears the day that Morgarath will somehow come back to life and actually destroy the earth. From all the bad food he’s eaten all his life, he probably just hallucinated the whole thing. France is all suave waltzing up to his door but I can tell he’s terrified. And now we’re in 1400’s France. Sometimes I forget how old of a man France really is. A young girl is running through the filthy streets to a filthy dockside. The light green dress she’s wearing matches beautifully with her clear blue eyes. She jumps into the arms of... well France. I didn’t recognize him in that medieval getup, or whatever the heck that is. She laughs, sounding like sunshine, or at least that’s what old fart France says. He puts her down, stroking her short golden hair. She goes on her tippy-toes and kisses him lightly on the lips. I look to present France, expecting him to be smiling and instead he’s acting all remorseful, eyes downcast. The same girls appears, in armor this time, charging through the same streets with sword in hand. She’s yelling in a language I don’t understand (oh, French) and cuts down soldier after soldier in front of her. Finally, it’s nighttime and she’s at a stake………………………. France is running to her……………..….she smiles one more time….……………………..and goes up in flames. The scene is over we’re all looking at each other with sad puppy dog eyes. France squats down groaning, and I hear him say ‘Jeanne’ ever so softly. He then says he is always trying to fill the void in his heart with friends and the harassment of others, but he still has nightmares of when Joan d’ Arc burned in front of him, still feels the guilt of not being able to change the minds of his people. France fears that it is only a matter of time until his only true love comes back to haunt him with her ghost, thirsting for revenge, both physical and emotional. We have to wait for a while just to calm down and be able to move again. Russia steps forward and goes next. We stand in complete darkness for a little bit and then we’re back in door lobby. He has taught himself to fear nothing, he says, in order to become the country he is today. I’m still getting over France’s door so I’m glad we didn’t get any emotional junk from Russia. Austria struts in that weird coat of his up to his door and opens it: A young Austria is running with some other kids, but soon is lagging behind. Next we see him in a hospital, with equipment hooked up to him, but the heart monitor would skip every now and then. I pretty sure that’s not a good thing. Sitting in his home, he’s obviously bored. But then he touches a piano key and music just explodes around us. His story: Austria has always had a weak heart. Because of this, even small amounts of exercise hurt his heart, and the possibility of a deadly heart failure constantly lurks. Having to spend all of his time inside, he found an outlet for not only his emotions but it also brought to life his bored mind: music. By writing, playing, and even singing songs Austria was no longer the weak little boy who was good for nothing, but a country growing by the hour in all forms of theatrical culture. He is still in constant fear of his decaying heart health. By eating right, he is able to stay as healthy as he can, but it’s only a matter of time…wow. I’ve always thought Austria was on old stuck up, but not having him here… NOT GOING TO THINK THAT. Oh, and apparently Canada is deadly allergic to crabs. Seeing a fake him choke to death was not fun. We actually experienced an earthquake in Cuba’s fear. The recent one in Haiti has scarred him for life. An attractive yet modest older Lichtenstein strutted out of Switzerland’s home, and a crying fake Lichtenstein called out for Switzerland FOR TEN MINUTES STRAIGHT. I swear if we find Bob I will punch his lights out, if Switzerland doesn’t gorge out his eyes and skin him alive first. We watched chibi-Romano be in mental pain until his little brother returned from when he was lost as a five-year old. Ever since then Romano has been extremely protective of his brother, always checking up on those who are taking care of him and never being satisfied. This is especially true with Germany, since Italy is inspired by Germany’s warfare and Romano hates how this puts his little brother in dangerous situations. He fears that this will lead to his brother’s death. While he was still taking care of Romano, Spain had once carelessly given him a rotten tomato to eat, and this then made Romano seriously ill. Ever since, Spain has been afraid of hurting Romano in any way, because in his mind’s eye, he’s still the adorable little chibi-Romano. Both of Hungary and Prussia’s doors contained a lot of the same memories. Hungary fears that people will find out that she truly loves Prussia. Hungary tries to hide this with annoyance and arguments, but in her mind it’s just no use. Prussia truly loves Hungary, yet is just a plain guy about it and is afraid to tell her how he feels. His cocky and prideful attitude is a perfect shield, and Prussia doesn’t even know it because he’s just being himself. This is cute and all but Japan is totally freaking out and keeps saying ‘kawaii’? Anyway, China’s approaching his door. When it opens we end up in the slums of China and see a little boy sprinting barefoot through the trash filled streets. But then a giant of a man grabs him and holds one of those drug filled cloths to the boy’s nose to make him pass out. A gorgeous view from a balcony is to our right, to the left butlers with trays piled high with chocolates and fruits, and in front seated on a couch … the ugliest woman I had ever seen. She was wearing a fancy robe and lots of jewelry, but all that did was exaggerate her gray, wrinkly skin and dusty blonde-white hair. Her giant green fingernails reminded me of the dragon claws from a storybook that Britain used to read me. A door to the left opens and the same boy from earlier is thrown in the room, only wearing boxers. The lady glances at him, spits, and talks in rapid Chinese. I can tell that her words hurt from how the boy flinched. Later, we’re in a room filled with around ten other boys, some putting on attractive robes, others talking, one in the corner curled up and groaning. All were from the ages of eight to twelve. The boy looks up, his brown eyes huge and taking in his surroundings. With a jolt I remember this is China’s fear. On a different day, every boy but China lays groaning on the floor and are holding their stomachs. The man of muscle appears to take China away, yelling in anger at the other children. The door to the lounge creaks slowly open, and a leg appears. China’s eyes flash like dark amber, his robe hanging off one shoulder, and this has the old hag on her feet. She grabs China and just holds him. Then she drags to a curtained area. A flash of colors, mostly bright and ugly, fill my vision. Blinking I see China slowly getting up from a bed, the old woman asleep on it. By now I just wanna thrown up and everyone else looks the same. In fact, France looks the most offended, whispering ‘this isn’t what it should be like.’ Present China just stands there with a stone cold face, immobile. The young China barley squeezes through a tiny window and then proceeds to run like hell away from the mansion. China calmly says that starting out, his was a country of drugs and slums. At the age of a nine-year old, he was kidnapped and lived in an extremely rich old lady’s mansion. For a whole year, China and ten other boys were constantly raped by this ugly old woman and could not escape because of her financial influence over the law enforcers. But when he finally escaped China fled the town and everything he knew, started a new life, and repaired his country bit by bit. China still fears that old woman and being abused in any way. He was never able to find her and free the boys still imprisoned. Sadly, they must have died not of old age but of constant abuse and most likely before 16, and China knows this. We promptly took a long break to break down, think, and reminisce. Finally, it was time for Japan to bring us home. China talks quietly with him for a while, and at one point Japan cried. I thought nothing could be worse than France or China, but what is Japan hiding in his closet that’s bad enough to make him cry? Holding China’s hand, Japan opens the final door… and we are back in the white space. Is it over? Could Japan simply not have a fear?

…………………………………………………………......What. Is. That…………………………………………………..............

I see someone I don’t know. I don’t understand what this has to do with Japan’s fear. But then I realize I’m looking at a naked woman, pure and simple, and turn around as fast as humanly possible. Man, I glance at everyone else and see that they’re all as red as beets. I hear China say that we can turn around. We all turn back so slowly that snails could’ve beat us hands down. There stands Hungary and China, with Hungary’s outer petticoat covering Japan. Yet not Japan. I really confused as to where the woman went. And then Japan speaks up in a voice that’s slightly higher than usual: when Japan was first born, he was raised by China. But when Japan first struck out on his own, the day and age he was living in was controlled by men, AND JAPAN IS REALLY A WOMAN. In order to grow as a country, Japan dressed in large clothes, acted like a man, wore shoes that made her taller, talked in a lower voice, and NEVER told anyone that ‘he’ was really a she. Of course China knew, but he respected Japan enough to keep her secret. By the time the woman revolution came, it was too late for Japan to announce her true gender. She had lived as a ‘he’ for so long that it was unnatural to behave otherwise. Besides, honor still dictated Japanese culture, so in order not to dishonor her country Japan remained a man and was deadly afraid that someone would discover her secret. Italy and Germany had the most interesting facial responses to this. But nobody said a word. Before anyone did anything else, I walked straight up to my best friend, gave her a hug, and reassured her that nothing between us has not and will not change. The girl, Japan, starts to cry but smiles at the same time. She hugs me back with her head full of blush against my chest. A loud siren sounds and we’re all caught off guard. I see France giving some weird purple drug to everyone, telling them to breathe it in. At first I was skeptical, but China sniffed it down. He knows his drugs so I followed suit. It feels like a fog is lifting from my mind and I glance down at Japan to make sure he, err she’s okay. She gives me a small smile and the gang finds a lovely little weasel begging for his life in front of Switzerland. Turns out Bob the Menacing was hoping that we’d wake up from the expertly crafted hallucination gas, all wanting to exploit each other’s greatest weaknesses. In the chaos he was going to take control of the world like a classic villain. But at that Japan ran up to him and got right in his face. She lectured him on how was he going to rule the earth and if he knew what a big responsibility that is. That’s why, Hungary says, we work together with over fifty nations to change the lives of those living on our land. Bob gives an exasperated “HOW!?!” And Russia yells “WITH THE POWER OF LOVE, LOSER!” and then hits Bob over the head with his metal pipe of pain… that just came out of nowhere but okay!

                With that maniac Bob M. Fentral now behind bars all the nations can breathe a little easier. It’s been a month and it’s still really awkward with the other countries, especially Italy and Germany. Italy’s has a tendency to gape at me and then run away, which at least means he accepts me as a woman. Germany just scratches his head and tries to get me to converse, but I’ve always been so shy so this is really weird. Hungary, Belarus, Ukraine, Poland, and even little Lichtenstein have all sort of formed a new group with me. Belarus teaches me about girl power and when to act on love, but I don’t really listen to that stuff. Poland gives us all really great fashion tips! Hungary thinks of me as her role model because I’ve always been able to keep a cool head with the boys. When I tell her it just comes naturally, she raises her eyebrows and I go red from head to toe, telling her over and over that it’s not like that!!! REALLY!!!!! My boss and co-workers are all guys, so I can’t stand being in the room with them, now that they know I’m a girl. France acts like he wants to hit on me, yet I guess he still sees my powerful man side when I push him away with dark stares. I’ve been spending more and more time over at America’s place. He’s really the only one that hasn’t changed. Doesn’t even mind if I sleep on his coach while my home gets renovated. I usually end up cooking really salty food, America brings back high calorie meals from fast food restaurants, and it feels like I’ve gained ten pounds in two weeks and I love it. Things finally started to feel normal again when China invited everyone to America’s and had a video game play off. By the end of the night America and I were jumping on the couch and ganging up on Italy’s warrior. Romano was crying in the corner after that last match. An hour later, Italy was officially named the gaming champ, but only until next month. After everyone leaves, I plop down on America’s lap and we watch France’s Got Talent. Until 2 a.m. we were making fun of everyone on the show, from the judges to the contestants, and could barely catch our breath during the commercials. Sunlight fell right onto my eyes, forcing me awake. Groggily I realized I had fallen asleep in America’s arms, and it felt good… WAIT. Jumping up I knock America to the floor, but the dead-weight just keeps on sleeping. Awkwardness adverted. Then I start fixing breakfast. The smell of extra salted bacon finally gets up the snoring bear. When I yell this at him, he growls like a real bear. Wow, I never realized how low his voice could go. Which doesn’t matter. So we eat breakfast, in silence mostly because the bear is scarfing down his food from coming out of a four-hour hibernation. A slap of syrup hits me on the nose, but I don’t get annoyed. As I reach for a napkin that’s not there (you eat like this America and don’t have napkins on hand?) he says ‘got it’ and uses his pointer-finger to wipe the sweet goo off my nose. He doesn’t lick it of his finger (thank goodness) but then wipes it on his pancake and eats that. But I’ve long ago learned to accept gross guy behavior, even embrace it. America belches and I take back the embracing part. Every day seems different yet the same. But what’s constantly changing is the growing fondness I have for Ameri-chan. We’re both really accepting of each others totally different lifestyles. Today I’m going on a spa trip with the guys. It’s going great, until France tries to follow me into the women’s hot spring with only his towel on. So I push him as hard as I can, and then run into the girl’s bath to make sure I don’t see anything. My place is finally fixed, so America and I go check it out. But when I tell him that I’m moving back in tonight, he accidentally breaks an expensive vase (which he TOTALLY stole from Ouran) and says I can’t stay in a place with shattered glass on the floor. I’m not even mad, or uncaring, actually I’m pretty happy for some weird reason. So for the next month I stay at Ameri-chan’s place, “forgetting” about the cleaning up the glass. Things kept getting weirder and weirder, but in a good way. Then I bring back some beer from a work party, we get drunk, and now, I really wanna kiss America. I lean in on him, but he just lifts me up to his room, tucks me into his bed, and goes back to sleep on the coach. He cooks a really awful breakfast, but I don’t complain because hey, what do you expect from a kid raised by Britain? I sleep the rest of the day. America makes sure to fool my work into thinking I have a fever. That night my temperature actually climbs to 103F*. This is really making him worry, but I can’t even tell him it’s all right because I’m exhausted. So America ended putting on Disney movie after Disney movie and now he’s holding me close to try to break the fever. Around 2 a.m. it does. So to pay him back I make him an equally awful breakfast. When I call him awake, he doesn’t play around, or even make excuses not to get up. He gets straight up, strides over to me, cups my head in his hands and kisses me hungrily. When we finally break apart, he tells me that he has been holding back SO MUCH, how he wanted to kill France every time he even looked at me, how he was so afraid that I wasn’t going to be okay last night. And that when he saw me smiling happily this morning, he just couldn’t hold back anymore. I put my beet red face into his chest and just make muttering notices. That’s when he lifts me to where are faces are even, my feet hanging in the air. He ask if he can kiss me, and I say yes, my shy little smile melting away like snow in the spring.


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