Swapped Around

Fifteen~ Burnt Cooking

OMG I feel so guilty! How have I not updated this in like ages? I mean, lots of people leave their stories lying about for years but I still feel really bad. So *insert cliche drumroll* I updated! Yay! And in the first day of advent! How completely /not/ festive!

I lie on my bed drowsily, tired from spending hours exerting myself in the playroom. What? It's called exercise! Despite only just waking up, I was still exhausted.

I can hear birds chirping outside the large window. The other day I saw them nesting in the overhang of the window ledge. It's a nice addition to the house, but it means that my windowsill is constantly covered in bird poo.

A quiet knock at the foot makes me sit up. "Franny? You in there?" The gentle voice of Canada asks.

I flop back down onto the mattress. "Five more minutes...."

There's a pause, then, "It's a nice day outside. We were going to go for a picnic."

I sit up again. "Will there be food?"

"Well, it's a picnic, isn't it?" Canada chuckles. "I'll give you time to wake up and then we'll head out. America is teaching England how to cook breakfast!"

"What?! Jut a sec, I'll be up right now!" I squeal, leaping off the bed and clattering over to the nightstand where I jump up to reach my hairbrush. I run it through my blonde bedhead, skipping over to the wardrobe and pulling out a blue gown with a white ribbon.

"Papa?"

"Yes?"

"Can you help me put this on?" I ask slightly guiltily, not wanting to bother him. "And please don't let England cook, your house is very nice."

Canada walks into the room curiously, helping me slip the blue gown over my head and tying the ribbon in a neat bow. "What do you mean, you like my house?"

"Well if England cooks, then he normally burns down whatever building he's cooking in." I reply simply.

"Oh god, really?" Canada asks in shock. He mutters a weird word under his breath which I  don't know the meaning of, but judging by the way he clamps his hand over his mouth, it's rude. The smell of smoke starts to waft up to the room.

"Oui! See, he's burnt something already!"

Canada hurtles out of the room into the hall, I follow him more slowly, my legs being much shorter than his, but still manage to trip over a fold in the carpet and tumble over, rolling down the wide staircase and landing in a heap on the floor.

"Aw, France! Are you hurt?" Canada frets, following me down the stairs. I pick myself up, fixing my hair that the stairs had managed to muss up.

"W old be more worried about your kitchen right now..." I replied, following him into the kitchen.

America is panicking around the kitchen with a jug of water, splashing it at the stove which has small orange flames bursting from it. England is standing in the table out of the way, looking guilty but watching the fire with a slightly satanic look in his eyes. I don't know, it might just be me not liking him.

"Oh, dude, great!" America signs with relief as he sees me through the smoke. "Can you get Canadia for me?"

"I-I'm here..." Canada pipes up, stepping forwards. America's eyes widen for a small second, Canada looking insulted.

"Wow, dude, I didn't see you there! Can you get France and Iggy out the house, I don't want them to get burnt."

Canada nodded and ushered me and an excitable looking England out of the room and towards the front door. "Come on guys, how about we play a game, eh?" England's eyes twinkle with happiness slightly.

"Can we go to the awesome playroom again?" He begs, pulling the puppy eyes trick on Canada. Canada sighs, picking him up and sitting him comfortably in his shoulders. England pats his hair curiously.

"I'm sorry, but America said that we have to go outside." Canada whispers up. England looks like he's about to cry, and I can see his lip wobbling. "Hey, don't cry..." Canada starts to fret, lifting him down and cuddling him gently. I feel a little twinge of jealously but I shake it off quickly.

"Yeah, don't cry Angleterre! We can have a picnic outside! Look, and we can make more flower crowns for them!" I say jumping up to reach the shiny handle of the front door. England sniffles a bit, wiping his teary eyes.

"Ok- wait, don't call me 'Angleterre'!!" He yells indignantly from Canada's arms. I grab onto the door handle as the door opens, swinging myself out of his eyesight where he can't get angry at me.

"Aw, come on! You know you like it~" I taunt, skipping down the steep gravel path to the forests below us. All around the small hill where the mansion was built, there is a pretty patchwork of golden and green fields and dark patches of woods. A single straight road runs down the middle, far away to the horizon.

England jumps out of Canada's arms, chasing me down the hill mock-angrily. I giggle, pausing to let him catch up a little. "Eyebrows!" I yell at him, earning a glare.

"Frog!" He replies angrily, tripping on a rock and nearly falling.

"Crybaby!" I retort, running again across the grassy slope.

"Coward!"

"Crazy!"

"Creepy!"

We spew out a rainbow of colourful and childish insults until we crash into each other at the edge of the forest at the bottom of the hill. Canada jogs quietly behind us, a worried crease between his eyebrows.

"Are you two okay?" He asks.

"Better than if we stayed back at the house to be burnt to death, be resurrected and then have to eat the disasters that Engalnd was going to cook for our breakfast." I add, winking evilly at the scowling island next to me.

"You'll be laughing on the other side of your face soon enough." Engalnd says, folding his arms and turning up his nose at me in a terrible child's impersonation of someone sophisticated. I burst into laughter, holding my stomach and sitting down on a root of one of the nearby trees. I see Canada holding back a smile.

"What's so funny?" England asks, his slightly-freckled nose still as high as it could get in the air.

"N-nothing..." I say, silently wheezing at his attitude.

Engalnd keeps glaring at me, a little bit of hurt and confusion in his green eyes, and I suddenly feel slightly mean for laughing at him. For as long as I have known him he has been a bit of a sensitive character, but he hates me and I'm supposed to hate him so I don't apologise.

"Sup dudes! Whatcha doing?" A sudden loud, obnoxious voice interrupts, meaning only that the last member of our odd family had arrived at the scene. America has his usual jacket slung over on shoulder, and large wicker hamper in the other hand. He has his shirt sleeves rolled up casually, and his glasses are crooked. There are smears of soot across the bridge of his nose, his forehead and his forearms.

"Oh, hey America," Canada says cheerfully.

"Daddy!" England squeals, ditching the dignified manner that he just put on to run up and throw his arms around America's leg- the only part he could reach. America grins, picking his up and winging his around in a circle before bending down and putting him on the floor to talk to him.

"Did you beat the big bad fire? He asks innocently. America nods.

"No fire can stand up the the amazing hero!"

"Did you use your superpowers?" England asks again avidly, his green eyes wide. 

I look up at Canada, who is zoned out a bit, and back to England and America. Why does he always act so different around him? I've known him the longest, but he still prefers him. Have I done something wrong? I never really hated England in the first place, it was him who thought that my being nice was being creepy. He found it funny to tease me about it, so I acted how he expected me to. I only wanted to be friends, why does he still hate me?