[A choked sound escapes England, and he's quick to bow his head and hide his face in his hand. Now that he has the capacity to be overwhelmed by America's words, he feels like he's drowning in them.
[His heart feels like it's doing at least triple time. Between his missing nation sense and the surrealism of America saying such deep words, it feels like maybe this isn't even real.] Sorry. It shouldn't have been like that.
[England said it first last time, despite his persistent reservations, so he has no problem handing over the responsibility this time.
Even still, he is not prepared to hear it with a clearer head. His cheeks flush impossibly and he tugs his scarf up over his face to hide whatever expression his mouth might be making.] I— yeah. Er...
[It is a lot harder to say it when he knows he has to live with the consequences of his actions. He fidgets and hesitates for a long moment, refusing to aim his eyes at the camera.] ...yeah. I-I— love you, as well, I mean.
[America is torn between thinking the way England seems to retreat into his scarf is pretty endearing and wishing he could see more of England's expression. Then he forgets about that, because England just said it back at a time when he's not definitely going to die. He's blushing and smiling at the same time.] There. We--we said it again. [He laughs to try and make it seem more casual, but he's not sure if he doesn't just sound kind of weird.] That was easy, right?
[No, that was terrifying and England's heart is still palpitating. Was it worth hearing America say it to him? He'll have to pinpoint the magnitude of his regret later. His returning laugh is nervous, and precedes a very obvious lie.] Yeah. Easy.
England regrets thinking that. Though such intimacy seems very appealing when he feels so terribly alone. He sinks further into his scarf and hopes that the nature of his thoughts has not shown in his eyes too much.] Under control. Of course. So— we'll see each other soon.
[That statement is unhelpful and England is not sure why he said it.]
[England feels like he should say something else, something romantic about having America in his arms again or sharing a kiss or looking him in the eye in person, but he's still a bit too overwhelmed from offering his heart earlier.
He adjusts his scarf to a more normal position. He wishes he could stay on the line with America and suffocate the strange tinnitus of the emptiness inside of him, but he shouldn't distract America from his travels.] Then...I suppose I'll talk to you later?
[He sounds very reluctant at the idea of hanging up.]
[That sounds like an invitation. England scrambles to think of something relevant that isn't too soppy.] What did you want to do once we're back together?
[England didn't really have any travel plans beyond "make sure John is safe."]
[America's mind immediately goes to the most inappropriate possible response.] Um! [He's getting red again.] Well. You know. [Really red. It's probably obvious, shit.]
[Well. England supposes that is technically an answer. He's glad he wasn't the only one considering it, and despite his own embarrassment, he bites his tongue not to laugh at America's reaction.] We could do that.
Okay. Good! 'Cause, y'know, yeah. [But anyway--] We can do other stuff, too! Stuff that's not that. Like--hanging out in general. And with Ginger, too!
[It's sort of sweet that America says that like it would be a given that he'd want to do it. England can't resist teasing him, hoping for a spot of normalcy as a distraction.] I didn't realise you'd miss me that much when I left.
[When he left to get John. Not when he died. He doesn't want to think about how much America might have missed him while he was dead.]
O-oh, okay, good. [That's probably a weird response to England, isn't it? America is being really weird right now. Ugh, no, he wants to be normal about this!] So--that can be put on the to-do list, or whatever.
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Darlin'.]
...really?
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He picks at the cuff of his jacket.] ...I'm— still alive, so...perhaps...
[Perhaps it won't be the last time America hears it.]
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Even still, he is not prepared to hear it with a clearer head. His cheeks flush impossibly and he tugs his scarf up over his face to hide whatever expression his mouth might be making.] I— yeah. Er...
[It is a lot harder to say it when he knows he has to live with the consequences of his actions. He fidgets and hesitates for a long moment, refusing to aim his eyes at the camera.] ...yeah. I-I— love you, as well, I mean.
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England regrets thinking that. Though such intimacy seems very appealing when he feels so terribly alone. He sinks further into his scarf and hopes that the nature of his thoughts has not shown in his eyes too much.] Under control. Of course. So— we'll see each other soon.
[That statement is unhelpful and England is not sure why he said it.]
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He adjusts his scarf to a more normal position. He wishes he could stay on the line with America and suffocate the strange tinnitus of the emptiness inside of him, but he shouldn't distract America from his travels.] Then...I suppose I'll talk to you later?
[He sounds very reluctant at the idea of hanging up.]
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[England didn't really have any travel plans beyond "make sure John is safe."]
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[When he left to get John. Not when he died. He doesn't want to think about how much America might have missed him while he was dead.]
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[When things weren't going to hell, anyway.]
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Or very lonely and he's hoping to feel closer to America however he can. Same thing.]
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