USUK - I Wish - Chapter 1

Before reading this chapter, I highly advise you read the prologue. The story will make much more sense if you do~


America's POV


It was just another meeting.

Just more pointless bickering. Just more time wasted when we could have been doing something productive.

Just another place I'm forced to see England.

I rubbed my eyes and stifled a yawn as I watched Germany trying to get control of the meeting. He shouted and shouted, but no one was listening. There was too much chaos.

It sort of reminded me of my futile attempts at trying to confess to England.

I sighed and looked over at the source of my heartache. The green-eyed nation was currently yelling curses and insults as France tried to sexually harrass him. Typical.

A lump formed in my throat as I watched. I admit, I was a little jealous of France. He professed his love to practically everyone he saw.

Lucky bastard.

I was suddenly jerked from my thoughts by Germany. He had somehow gotten a hold of a bullhorn and was commanding everyone to be quiet. I folded my arms on the table and let my head fall. I hadn't slept at all last night; memories had attacked me relentlessly. Germany was saying something, but I wasn't paying attention. How many nights had I been kept awake by nightmares and emotions? I couldn't remember. Recently, they were getting worse, too. That was part of why I was having trouble sleeping - I was scared.

I turned my head and sleepily glanced at England. He looked so frustrated with his arms crossed and that scowl on his face. It made me smile. My small moment of pleasure disappeared as my heavy eyelids started to droop. I didn't want to fall asleep, at all costs. What if I had another nightmare?

But, as usual, my body fought my brain and won. My tired eyes closed and I nodded off.

I don't know how long I was asleep, but it was England who woke me up. He was shaking me rather roughly.

"Get up, you idiot, the meeting's over!" he growled.

"Ah, Angleterre, leave the poor boy alone," said France as he came over. He put a hand on my shoulder and added, "It is obvious he is tired. We should let him rest, non?" England glared at him suspiciously.

"Fine," he muttered and left. France chuckled to himself and turned to face me.

"Amerique, may I speak to you for a moment?"

I blinked dazedly and nodded. France quickly glanced around to make sure no one else was there. Satisfied that not even Canada was in the room, he turned back to me and started speaking.

"May I ask you something?" He paused. "How do you feel about Angleterre?" I immediately perked up at this. Had France figured out my feelings? Would he be the one to end my misery? "I noticed you we looking at him a lot..." France continued. "Did you two fight, or is there something with your bosses?" I slumped forward on the table, finding it hard to mask my disappointment.

Of course France hadn't figured it out, that was impossible, thanks to the curse. I was stupid to hope he would notice. Even France was prevented from seeing my odd behavior around England so no one could figure it out. So many times I had made it painfully obvious how I felt without actually saying it, but no one saw. It was hopeless.

"So? How do you feel about Angleterre?" France asked again. I had forgotten about the question.

"Oh, yeah. I..." I struggled to answer in a way that might give France a hint, even though I already knew I couldn't. "I, ah..." Suddenly, it was as if my mouth was moving on its own. I don't know why I said what I said; maybe it was the curse, maybe it was what I wished was the truth, I don't know. I guess it doesn't really matter, because I said it, regardless.

"I don't care about England. I never have, and I never will." As soon as I said it, I felt something horrible in the pit of my stomach. I heard a small creak, but ignored it. Probably someone upstairs or something.

"You don't care about him?" France looked shocked. I was pretty surprised myself, but I didn't let it show. I gritted my teeth and didn't respond to France's question. He just stared at me in return. Finally, he shook his head, gathered up his things, and headed for the door. I grabbed my stuff and caught up with him. As we were walking out, something caught my eye down the hall, almost around the corner. I blinked and it was gone. Was that...?

"Hey France, I'll catch up with you later, 'kay? I gotta go see something," I said. France gave me a curious look, but he simply nodded. I gave a half-hearted grin and took off down the hall.

I could have sworn I saw...


England's POV


I sighed in exasperation. I had forgotten some papers back at the meeting room and had to walk all the way back. It was bothersome, but I guess it wasn't that bad. I came to the door of the meeting room and started to push it open, but stopped when I heard France's voice.

"So? How do you feel about Angleterre?"

Curious, I peeked through the tiny crack I'd made and saw America standing there, looking a little uncomfortable. Why were they talking about me?

"Oh, yeah. I..." America glanced at the floor. "I, ah..." He looked back up at France and said, "I don't care about England. I never have, and I never will."

What?

My eyes widened and my mouth fell open. He didn't care about me? I closed the door as my eyes started to fill up with tears. It creaked a little, but I didn't care. I turned around and leaned against the door, squeezing my eyes shut as the tears started to fall. I'd always had a feeling America hated me, but...

My eyes shot open as I heard footsteps. America and France were preparing to leave. I backed away from the door and ran down the hall and around the corner as fast as I could. I kept running, not caring where in the building I was going. Finally, I hit a dead end. I collapsed against the wall and hugged my legs to my chest, resting my chin on my knees. I held my arms around myself tighter and tighter as a fresh wave of tears started pouring down my face. It felt like I was going to fall apart right there if I let go.

Sobs wracked my body and my throat was sore, but I barely noticed. My chest heaved awkwardly and my heart thudded dully along with it. It really felt like my heart had split in two. I chastised myself in my head for being stupid enough to think I had a chance with America in the first place. It was obvious he hated me, but I had pretended not to notice. I had convinced myself that he did like me, if only as a friend. But it was a lie.

I heard a pair of footsteps pounding down the hall. I closed my eyes and refused to listen. I didn't care who it was. Nothing mattered anymore.

As soon as I thought that, two warm hands were suddenly cupping my face and I was staring into a pair of worried blue eyes. I avoided meeting the gaze as best I could.

This was not someone I wanted to talk to.