~* undercover *~ (gereng)

2

The party was huge. There seemed to be a thousand people there. England remembered going to one of these parties just after the first World War. Everything was the same, except the few swastika banners on the walls. A chill ran through England's back.
"Well, he sure knows how to decorate, the natzi bastard." France snarled.
"He probably had to put it up. A man isn't his country." England replied duly.
"Why are you trying to justify it?" France asked, slightly looking down at him disapprovingly.
"I'm not."

They made their way over to the other side of the floor. They looked around for a bit to spot the man himself.
"There." England secretly pointed at Germany, who was at the other side of the room speaking to guests.
"Well done, artie. You're not just a pretty face." France Smirked.
"Dont even start." England stated, not even looking at him.
"Oh, but you are so beautiful! I could almost forget you are English." He purred, stepping closer to England and trailing his hands down his sides and to his hips. "I knew this dress would make your hips look amazing.~"
"Get the fuck off me." England said stepping away from him. "I cannot fucking deal with this." He tried to storm off, but France caught his arm.
"Where do you think your going?"
"Outside. I need to smoke. Just stay there, don't follow me."
"Artie, come on. I cant leave you alone to wander. We are on a mission, remember?" France rolled his eyes.
"Too bad. I'm dying for a cigarette, I'll only be two minutes." He snatched his hand away from him.
"Ok OK, take this." France then handed him a small device. "It's an ear piece. So we can hear each other."
"Im literally going for a sec, this is just unnecessary."
"Well fuck me for trying to make sure you don't get molested. Just put it on!" France rolled his eyes.
"Whatever." England said, putting the device in his pocket. And just like that, England disappeared.

"And that's why I dont go for the brits." France muttered to himself. He looked around to find Germany again. He spotted the German trying to pass through the crowd with hast, glancing at France as he Went. France quickly faded into the crowd so he was not seen. He watched Germany make a bee line to the door England walked out of.
"Shit." He thought.