These are getting longer. Hope you like them! You're going to have a hard time translated what Alfred said though. Forgetful bastard. Masiyahan!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
A knock came at the door of the large house. A girl in her teens rushed over to answer it. She opened the door to a blonde man in a US bomber jacket with sky blue eyes. She raised an eyebrow in question. "Maligayang pagdating, kung ano ang nagdudulot sa iyo dito?" She asked the man.
"Erm... Ak... o ay... duma... ating upang... uh, makita Jessette" He scrambled, trying to speak in the native language best he could. The servant girl giggled and opened the door wider to let the man in. He walked in hesitantly. Seeing the shoes lined up next to the door he took his off two, knowing how that girl was with wearing shoes indoors.
"Siya ya sa musika kuwarto" She informed him, pointing him down the hallway. He nodded and thanked the servant girl. As he walked down the hall, he heard a piano melody playing, and the faint sound of singing. He couldn't identify the words yet, as he was too far away. When he got close enough he stopped. It was the girl singing. He hadn't heard her sing since, well, since she lived with him.
He didn't want to make her stop playing so he pushed the music door as quietly as he could. He peeked in, seeing the girl play the piano, her fingers flying across the keys carefully. She was singing a new song, one America hadn't really heard. It was a sad song too.
"Ay ito ang buong larawan, o ito lamang ang simula?" She was singing softly to herself. "Ito ba ang paraan ng pag-ibig mo sa akin? Ikaw ay pagkuha ng aking puso, ginamit ko upang subukan at maglakad mag-isa." America stepped in more, trying his hardest not to disturb her. "Subalit sinimulan ko na sa paglaki, at kapag sabihin mo sa akin lamang sa pamamahinga. Sa wakas ako ng pagpapaalam pumunta. Hayaan ko pumunta."
That was when America accidentally let go of the door, making it slam shut behind him. The girl slammed her fingers on the keys out of surprise. She spun around on the wooden piano bench, her brown eyes meeting blue ones. She blinked at him in confusion, then annoyance. She sighed and turned back to the piano, clicking it shut.
She got up and walked over to the American. She still had to look up to meet his eyes. She took a deep breath and tilted her head. "Ano ang betchot are you doing here, Al?" She asked with a surprisingly innocent look. He was taken aback a bit.
"Since when did you curse?" He asked in surprise. The girl raised an eyebrow at the tall man.
"I was raised by a pirate, Alpred. I curse like a sailor." She said with narrowed eyes. America laughed and ruffled her hair.
"Oh yeah, I forgot." He chuckled. The girl sighed and patted her hair back down in a lame attempt to fix it.
"I know you don't like to look at the past but really, ip you keep doing this you'll porget so many tings." She told him softly. "Many of your citizens are already beliebing that the Holocaust itself was made up. The masilya talino." She muttered the last part under her breath. America looked down, trying to avoid her gaze. He felt pressure on his shoulder and looked up a bit. He met the girl's brown eyes again.
"Hey, cheer up now." She said with a bright, contagious smile. "What'd you come here por anyways?" She asked, raising an eyebrow at the American. He laughed and caught her smile.
"Just come to see my friend. Why?" He informed. The girl yawned and looked at her watch.
"Because, hero, I don't know ip you were inpormed or not but it's night here and I'm going to bed." She sighed, walking past him and towards her room. When she saw America following her she sighed yet again, pinching the bridge of her nose.
"Lizabel!" She called down the hallway. The servant girl from earlier rushed in to her employer's aid. "Ipakita sa kanya sa panauhin kuwarto, pakiusap." She instructed, walking away into her own room. The servant girl nodded and went up to America.
"Sundin ako, ginoo." She told him. He followed her to the guest room. It was a nice, comfortable room with a mahogany bed frame and lime green walls. There was two windows with white curtains and a mahogany dresser. The servant girl saw him off then went back to cleaning up the kitchen. America sat on the bed, lost in thought. He took off his shirt and curled up in the white sheets.
After an hour of tossing and turning he still hadn't gotten a wink of sleep. He couldn't get what the girl said off his mind. How she said that he would start forgetting things. He didn't really know what she meant by that, as he had already pressed a very important part of both of their pasts into the dark resides of his mind, not to be touched with a fifty foot pole.
He sat up in the bed and looked about the dark room. He sighed and pushed the covers off of his body. Even with the AC on, it was hot in the house for him. He got out of bed and walked out into the hall. He hadn't really explored this place much and had only been here one or two times before. It was very foreign to him.
As he walked down the long hallway he heard a faint sound of the rolling of an office chair coming from one of the rooms. Under the door was illuminated by the light coming from inside the room. Curious, America put his ear to the door. What he heard was what sounded like a child making airplane noises. He didn't know of any children living with the girl so he opened the door quietly.
Inside was the girl, she was holding a red model airplane in the air, pretending it was flying high in the sky. She moved the office chair so she wouldn't have to run around the room. She laughed softly, as she had yet to notice the American at the door. She wasn't exactly wearing a shirt but bandages were wrapped around her chest and she was wearing pajama shorts.
America's face grew hot when he saw her, his face bright red. The girl turned in her seat and met blue orbs. She stared at him, her own face getting red. Soon, both of them noticed that they weren't wearing shirts and freaked out.
"Ah! Al! Ano ang sirain ang ginagawa mo dito ungas?!" She cursed at him hiding behind the desk at the opposite side of the room, only her eyes poked out now. "You're supposed to be asleep! Anong ginagawa mo?!"
"Oh god, I'm sorry! I didn't know!" He said back, dashing back out and closing the door behind him. He tried to catch his breath but his heart was racing like it was in the Indy 500. When he opened up his eyes they were met with the dark brown ones of Lizabel. She blinked at him with confusion.
"Bakit mo gising?" She asked in a whisper, narrowing her eyes at the American. She glanced behind him at the door to the girl's office and her eyes widened. "Alam mo pumunta doon?" She asked urgently. America nodded and Lizabel grabbed his arm. She pulled him back to the guest room, mumbling in Tagalog while she did. She opened the door and pointed in. America walked in confusedly. Lizabel and shut the door behind him and ran back to the girl's office.
She knocked on the door, waiting patiently. "Pasok." The girl's voice answered loudly. Lizabel opened the door slowly and peeked in. When she saw the girl sitting at her desk, writing in a journal she walked in a closed the door behind her. The girl looked up at Lizabel with a smile. "Ano ang kailangan mo?" She asked kindly.
"Sigurado ka tama? Nakita ka America umaalis dito." She asked. The girl sighed and closed the journal she was writing in.
"Oo, ako ay tama. Lamang ng kaunti hinalo." The girl sighed. She got up and started walking out of the office. "Maaari mong gumawa ng tapa para sa almusal bukas?" She asked, not looking at Lizabel but simply walking past her. Lizabel knew the girl was upset and didn't pester. She nodded and left the room without a word.
The girl went into her room and set the model plane on her dresser, exchanging it for a roll of bandages. She sat on the bed and unwrapped her chest. It was riddled with scars, cutting into the gaps in her ribs and going straight down the middle. One was even on her back. She sighed at the sight of them and rewrapped them in the new bandages.
She didn't know why she did this, but for some reason she didn't want to have to look at them at all. She doesn't wrap the scars on her leg or arm, just the ones on her chest. They're closer to heart than the others, both in a literal sense and in metaphorical one.
When she finished she laid in her bed, wrapped in a cocoon of sheets, remember where she had got those scars. How could he forget. Both times he saw the bandages he seemed to be confused on where they had came from, and both times the girl had changed the subject quickly. What hurt is that he couldn't remember on his own. He never liked remembering the past. The girl took a page from his book and pushed it into the deep resides of her mind.
When America woke the next day he went to the girl's office. He knocked on the door but no reply came. Inpatient as he was, he opened the door and saw that no one was in there. He walked in further, then he saw a leather bound journal laying on the desk. Curiosity got the best of him and he walked up to the desk.
It was made out of a fine wood and there was many papers scattered about it, many of trade and the economy. In the center was the journal. America flipped it open. The papers were old and worn, the edges water damaged and frayed. In the older entries, the ink was fading slightly. America wondered how long the girl has had this.
In was one word, written many, many times over. Remember. Each time it was written carefully, as if the girl had spent a long time on each letter, making it look perfect. Over time the writing changed, got more fancy, more carefully written, and more desperate.
The door clicked open and America slammed the book shut. He looked up to see the girl, her hair pulled into a bun and wearing a soft blue bathrobe. She looked at him, then the desk. Her drowsy, morning glance turned into a sharp glare.
"What are you doing you tangang anak sa labas?!" She yelled at him, storming up to the desk he was standing behind. She pushed his chest and he lurched back. "Going trough my pribate stuff?! Are you tick?! No wonder Arthur calls you tanga!" She yelled, throwing up her hands.
America froze in place. At the girl's words. But this was only the beginning. "Masama sa katawan. Walang kahulugan. Walang pakundangan. Malakas. Kasuklam-suklam." She stated, poking his chest with each sentence. The American looked in shock, he had never seen the girl like this. "Get out of my damned house bepore I trow you out myselp." She whispered roughly, glaring at the nation in front of her.
America had just about had enough. Before he knew it, he was yelling too. "You know what? I don't care what you have to say about me because you're just a pathetic, little girl. Why don't you go run off and get invaded by yet another country? It seems the only thing you're good for." He told her harshly.
The female nation stopped and stared, her breath caught in her throat. She gritted her teeth and raised a hand. It landed promptly on America's cheek, making her neck snap to the side on impact. He stood there for a second, dumbfounded. He then turned around and stormed out of the house, ready to get on the next plane back home to his country. The girl watched him leave with wide eyes. As soon as she heard the door slam behind him she ran into her room.
She jumped on her bed and cried deeply into her pillow, staining it with tears. Lizabel tried to get the girl to come out but she refused. She didn't eat for the whole day, or even the day after that. All she did was curl up in her blankets and cried until she either fell asleep or couldn't cry anymore.
She knew it was her fault too. She knew she insulted America for the soul reason he reminded her of Spain at the moment. She forgot how they were different. She forgot how Spain could brush things off and know that she was just worked up while America never did know how she got when she was stressed. She cried because she knew she just drove away someone she cared for a lot.