America the Majestic (United States of America #2)

The Art Book

How could this...How did this happen?

No matter how much he wanted this to be a dream, the reality would always bring back his worst nightmare, no matter how much he wanted to escape.

He had been deceived...by America of all people.

"He" was actually a "she", and the America he knew, or thought he knew, never existed. All England had known was a lie, and all he's left with is a cruel, ruthless, and apathetic woman.

How had he become so blind?! The signs were there, and yet he never paid attention to them; the way America refused to let him bathe hi—her, how she refused to let him dress her, how long she took in getting ready...it was all right fucking there, and he just let the information zoom on by without a thought!

He had been stupid...so...so...stupid.

So, as a result, England had actually sobbed himself to sleep that night, waking up later than usual, not that anyone was complaining for once when he arrived to the kitchen for breakfast.

To his surprise, it wasn't France or any other country who was cooking, but America. She was still dressed in her buttoned dark blue blouse, matching skirt, and black heels from yesterday. Seeing him, America nodded to him, her expression unchanging.

"Good morning Mr. Kirkland," she greeted before going back to her cooking. Her wording was like a blow to England's already hurting heart. Not Iggy or Artie, just Mr. Kirkland. Not only was she so different in personality, but she also denied any attachments to him.

Canada and even France weren't faring any better, though the former looked worse for wear. His skin was a sickly pale, dark bags the color of a storm cloud were under his eyes, there was a heaviness in his shoulders, and his hair was disheveled. He truly look like he went to war with both himself and his bed and lost.

England didn't know what America said to him after her revelation, but whatever it was, it was enough to make Canada look worse than France or England himself.

As for the other nations, they were clearly still in shock. Like the three members of the FACE family, they didn't seem to have slept a wink last night, except for Japan for some odd reason, and they were stunned enough that they didn't bother arguing with each other, which would've been nice if it hadn't been for their situation.

Soon, America came out with different trays of food in her hands. She seemed to have done this many times before, as she was confident in getting them all to the table without dropping them, and she politely denied assistance. Soon, America was placing the nations' respective breakfasts before them, ignoring their shocked looks as she settled herself at the head of the table, about to dig into her own meal.

England didn't know what he was thinking, but he had expected hamburgers for America's breakfast, but what he saw instead was shocking. On America's tray was a bowl of oatmeal, an apple, a couple strips of bacon, and a glass of tea. 

Tea!

America eyed the other nations and their untouched meals. "I'm not going to bother cooking for you again if you waste the food. Just to warn you, I'm not exactly fond of those who waste food." She didn't say it cruelly, but the warning in her voice was enough to get everyone to cooperate.

Soon, they were quietly digging into their meals, once more saying not one word to each other. America didn't seem to mind this though, for she just quietly ate her breakfast without a care in the world, or at least that's what England thought.

His tray consisted of his favorite Earl Grey tea, a couple pieces of small tomatoes, two pieces of sausage, fried eggs, and a couple pieces of bacon, all of which he was consuming slowly. England didn't know whether to be happy that America remembered his favorite breakfast meal, sad that she knew them and not the other way around, or both.