seventeen

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guys we hit 100 followers!!!!!!!!!!!!!! tysm :))


As soon as the door closed, America jumped to his feet. He was still under the blanket though, so he just stumbled around like a ghost for a few seconds before realizing he should take the sheet off if he wanted to see.

Russia's gone, he noticed sadly. The sadness didn't last long as another thought came to mind. And he hasn't killed me yet!

A goofy grin spread over America's face. Being alive never felt so good.

But being drunk in the middle of the afternoon didn't feel really good. It just felt weird. And wrong. It felt like America was breaking some unbroken rule.

"Breaking rules is fun!" America said out loud, like that would change how he felt.

It did nothing, other than make him feel a little more confident.

With his new boost of confidence, America dug into his pocket and pulled out his phone. He needed to call somebody.

America stared at his phone, the list of favorites blurring for a second. There was only one number he could call. His best dude. His homeslice. His coolest bro. His realest homie.

His thumb missed the Dominos contact and landed on Canada's instead.

"Oops," America muttered. Then he shrugged. Canada brought him pizza sometimes too, just like Dominos. And Canada's pizza was free! Maybe he could convince Canada to bring him a pizza.

Canada picked up after a few rings. "Merica?"

"Can-Ada!" America smiled. His voice cracked halfway through the word. "Heyyy bro."

"You're drunk," Canada said, not as a question, but as a statement.

"Noooooooo?"

America heard Canada sigh, and he could imagine his brother rubbing a hand over his face in frustration. "Merica, it's like 1:30."

"But Japan couldn't drink all those by herself," America defended. "She needed my help!"

"Drink what? Merica, where are you right now?"

America climbed onto Russia's bed and sat against the wall, still holding the phone to his ear. It really was more comfortable than his bed. " 'M in my room."

Canada heaved a breath of relief. "Thank God. Stay there, I'll stop by after class to check on you."

"Oh, you're in class?" A little bit of guilt filled America, and then a lot of guilt from the whole Russia thing. Why did he have to be such a screw up? "I'm sorry."

"No, it's fine," Canada assured. "The professor hasn't shown up yet, so don't worry. Stay in your room, okay?"

America took his shades off and moodily flung them across the room. They landed on his bed. " 'Kay."

"Maybe try to get some sleep or something," Canada continued. "I'll text your roommate to let him know what's going on."

America wanted to tell Canada he didn't have to, but suddenly Canada was talking again.

"Teacher's here! Don't do anything stupid Merica, and by that I mean don'ttextanythingyou'llregretlaterokaygottogobye," Canada rushed out before hanging up.

America waited for five seconds before also saying "Bye," and hanging up. Maybe Canada was right. Getting some sleep sounded nice.

With an exaggerated sigh, America fell into a laying-down position, curled on his side as his cheek pressed into Russia's pillow. He clutched his phone to his chest. Would Rus be mad if I slept here?

He thought about it through his alcohol-induced haze, not moving for a solid three minutes as he struggled to form a cohesive thought.

I've already made him really mad at me. America finally decided. He felt sad, disappointed in himself. No need to give him more reasons.

The American had just enough presence of mind to leave Russia's bed and crawl into his own before passing out.


yeah, this one's short (just like your guys' patience, haha)


07/02/19

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