USUK: Things Never Change

Chapter 14: The Game

Chapter 14: The Game

England awoke in the empty bed yet again. His eyes slowly opened, expecting to see someone next to him, but he just closed them again when he saw that the American wasn't there. He sighed and rolled over, his body still aching when he moved. He flung his hand onto his forehead and let out a deep breath. Why would Alfred be here, he thought, I've been sleeping much later lately. But... so did Alfred? Why wasn't he ever here anymore?

England closed his eyes again and let his forearm cover his eyes from the sun shining in. He didn't appreciate all the avoidance, not one bit.

America came into the door quickly and went to his dresser, grabbing a tie then attempting to put it on the mirror. Usually, he would just ask to help but today was just another day of avoidance.

"Good morning sunshine." England said as he slowly sat up in the bed. America seemed to simply ignore him as he tied the tie. "Or you can just ignore me too that's fine."

America finished the tie but didn't look toward England. "Breakfast is on the counter top if you're hungry." He grabbed his suit jacket and threw it on, fixing it up in the mirror. England watched him... then started to chuckle. America looked over at England confused.

"What the bloody hell is your issue? Huh?" England snapped, "You're mad! I get it! But at me? Really? Are you mad that I got shot? Are you actually mad that I got shot? Seriously?" England certainly expressed his frustration, which sent pain coursing through his chest so he had to sit back and take a couple calm breaths. By the time he finished calming down, America had stopped moving around and just stood there looking at him.

"That's not-... no." America managed to choke out.

"Then what is it Alfred? Huh? Because everything seemed to be perfectly fine until I got shot. You're ignoring me! Everyday Alfred! You're obviously mad! So what? I'm sorry I got fucking shot, I couldn't really avoid it." England took a couple more deep breaths and rubbed his temples. America backed up and stood against the wall across from England, he stayed quiet and looked blankly at England. England sighed as he looked back up at America... Guilty.... He looks guilty... like a child would if he broke something he wasn't even suppose to be playing with, something that wasn't even his. "Its... not your fault... Alfred."

America stayed silent, opening his mouth to say some heart-felt apology, but instead, "Breakfast will be cold soon." He quickly left out the room. England sat there listening to him go down the stairs and slamming the front door on the way out to his business meeting.

England sat still, looking down at the sheets that still covered him. He dropped his head into his hands and took a deep breath. So, he thought, he thinks it's his fault?... of course... He made his way out of bed and slowly stomped down the stairs.

He was used to his new daily routine of showering, drinking morning tea, playing with America's cat, and doing some chores as long as they didn't exhaust him. When they did exhaust him, he went into the study and did some paper work. Everyday was the same, by himself because America made all efforts to avoid him and not be home.

This day would be different. England went through the usual routine, showering, drinking tea, some chores, then seeing America wonder in and go to his study. England grabbed his coat and wondered out onto the streets, making his way down to the Grocery store. Smiling on his way down, he wondered inside and grabbed a shopping cart. He suddenly stopped and his smile faded as he came to his senses. He really can't fucking cook. England put the shopping cart back, ended up buying a pack of gum, and wondered back outside. He snapped the gum as he looked across the street to find a Boston Market, ready for dinner. His smile came back as he walked across the cross walk to the busy store. He waited on line patiently, then ordered what he thought would make a good dinner for the night. He wondered back home after paying, went into the kitchen and began to take out the food. On the table he placed a nice rotisserie chicken, some mashed potatoes, corn bread, stuffing, cooked green beans and carrots, and a brownie desert. He set out two plates, some forks and knives, and even lit a candle. He then called America and asked him to come downstairs.