Okay, hold on! [America is pretty sure the bracelet will break or get lost if he throws it, so he trots dutifully over to where England is to show him the bracelets. They're cheap and plastic and one says "best" while the other says "friends".] Which one do you want?
[This is ridiculous. America is completely, totally, one hundred percent having him on. It's just juvenile! The bracelets don't even look nice!
Even if it's sort of nice to think that America might consider England his best friend.
After a moment of blank, stupefied consideration, England comes back to life and snatches up the one that says "best," of course. He doesn't put it on yet, but he does hold it in his palm for a moment, scrutinising it.]
If I wear this silly thing, you can't take it back, you know. [The bracelet itself, or the sentiment behind it? England leaves that vague.]
So! [England doesn't want to say it out loud, that's even more embarrassing than wearing it! But he has to say it. For the sake of making America more embarrassed than England is.] They match! They say "best friends!"
[Also they are tacky plastic bracelets for children and they are centuries old.]
England looks away, encircling his hand protectively around his own wrist and, consequently, the bracelet.] ...it would be very rude to turn down a gift like this.
[If you were actually best friends with someone, that is.]
...fine. [There's a hesitation, at first, that really makes it sound like England is going to say something else on the matter, but he lets it go for now.
Still, it takes him a moment to release the bracelet, and longer still to turn away from America so that he can resume searching.]
[America heads back over to his own section of the store, passing empty shelves and ignoring how silent everything is except for his footsteps. For a little while, at least, it seems like they're capable of silently working on something together.]
He returns to the shelves, but the ones he can see are empty. Only once he stands on tiptoe and reaches to run his hand along a higher shelf does he discover something else. It slides along the shelf a little as England's hand collides with it, and he realises quickly from the feel of paper and the flat surfaces that it's a book.
He slides it off the shelf, supporting it with both hands as he brings it down to eye level. It's very, very old, and he opens it up to find that the ink has faded, but not so much as to make it illegible.
He doesn't say anything, knowing America is unlikely to be interested in this kind of book, but he does glance back in America's direction.]
[America is on his hands and knees, crawling around on the bottom-most shelves, so only his feet are at all visible to England and even then he'd have to squint. He'd seen something catch what little light there is down here... Aha! His fingers touch porcelain. A tea cup? But it doesn't have any handle...]
Find anything else? [America's voice is slightly muffled.]
[Of course. England scoffs in response even though he was expecting it.
He looks up from the contents of the book when he realises America is getting closer. With some confusion, his gaze falls to America's hand. He's not really expecting to see a delicate floral teacup.
Cautiously, he closes the book and shifts it into one hand so that he can reach out and gingerly pluck the cup from America's grasp.] Er...thank you.
[England turns the cup around. Sure enough, he can see where the handle has broken off. A shame, really; it's very charming otherwise.
Still, he'll take it. Only partially because America gave it to him, but mostly because if he ever has tea with anyone here, it would only be proper to have enough cups!
England's gaze alights on the bracelet adorning his wrist again. He clears his throat.] I mean...no sense in letting a perfectly functional cup go to waste! Perhaps we'll find a handle for it somewhere.
[America grins brightly. That means England liked it!] Maybe we can make one with something! [It's not like America doesn't have a ton of odds and ends.]
[England feels a little blinded by America's grin at the moment, and worse, he feels something bubbly in his chest, which is never a good sign.] Right. We'll have a look once we settle in for the night.
Okay, cool--hey, look! [And America's attention span drifts to something yellow and squeaky nearby. He grabs it. It's a rubber duck. He is squeaking it a lot right in England's face.]
What are you— [England's question is very rudely interrupted by the sound of squeaking. He lets out an indignant noise and ducks heheh away, since both of his hands are too occupied to swat at the obnoxious little thing.] Stop that! Insufferable wanker.
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England's disbelief is plain on his face even from across the store. He glances dubiously to the hand holding the bracelets.
After a moment, he decides to call America's bluff. He scoffs.] Fine. Give it to me, then.
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Even if it's sort of nice to think that America might consider England his best friend.
After a moment of blank, stupefied consideration, England comes back to life and snatches up the one that says "best," of course. He doesn't put it on yet, but he does hold it in his palm for a moment, scrutinising it.]
If I wear this silly thing, you can't take it back, you know. [The bracelet itself, or the sentiment behind it? England leaves that vague.]
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[Ugh.
England slips the bracelet over his hand and onto his wrist, trying to ignore his own flushing face.] This is ridiculous.
[He says, fully aware that he has still agreed to wear it.]
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[That's obviously just as bad!]
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[Also they are tacky plastic bracelets for children and they are centuries old.]
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England looks away, encircling his hand protectively around his own wrist and, consequently, the bracelet.] ...it would be very rude to turn down a gift like this.
[If you were actually best friends with someone, that is.]
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Still, it takes him a moment to release the bracelet, and longer still to turn away from America so that he can resume searching.]
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He returns to the shelves, but the ones he can see are empty. Only once he stands on tiptoe and reaches to run his hand along a higher shelf does he discover something else. It slides along the shelf a little as England's hand collides with it, and he realises quickly from the feel of paper and the flat surfaces that it's a book.
He slides it off the shelf, supporting it with both hands as he brings it down to eye level. It's very, very old, and he opens it up to find that the ink has faded, but not so much as to make it illegible.
He doesn't say anything, knowing America is unlikely to be interested in this kind of book, but he does glance back in America's direction.]
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Find anything else? [America's voice is slightly muffled.]
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He looks up from the contents of the book when he realises America is getting closer. With some confusion, his gaze falls to America's hand. He's not really expecting to see a delicate floral teacup.
Cautiously, he closes the book and shifts it into one hand so that he can reach out and gingerly pluck the cup from America's grasp.] Er...thank you.
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Still, he'll take it. Only partially because America gave it to him, but mostly because if he ever has tea with anyone here, it would only be proper to have enough cups!
England's gaze alights on the bracelet adorning his wrist again. He clears his throat.] I mean...no sense in letting a perfectly functional cup go to waste! Perhaps we'll find a handle for it somewhere.
[That means he likes it.]
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hehehaway, since both of his hands are too occupied to swat at the obnoxious little thing.] Stop that! Insufferable wanker.(no subject)
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