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Hetalia: America by Yankeegirl02

stories by sorceress-of-flame

Hetalia by musicnote854

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Submitted on
December 14, 2012
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You rang the doorbell to England's house a bit hesitantly, holding the bag that contained some of America's clothes tightly in one hand. You were able to feel your heart pound and your chest tighten in anxiety, and your hands were sweating enough so that you were able to feel your tight grip on the bag slowly start to slip.

A few seconds after you rang the doorbell, you dropped your hand down to your side and grasped your bag with both hands, rocking back and forth on the heels of your feet. You felt like you hadn't seen America in a very long time, and you wanted to get a look at how much he had changed since he came to live with England.

Your gaze was fixed on the ground when you heard the door unlock and open, and you instantly lifted your head so that you were staring directly into the eyes of England.

"Oh, hello, _____," he said before he stepped a little to the side, holding the open door with one hand and allowing enough space for you to walk in.

"Hi..." you replied a bit slowly and uncertainly before you lowered your gaze so that it was able to briefly settle on the bag you were carrying before you lifted your gaze as well as the bag. "I have some of America's clothes here," you said to England, and he nodded. He motioned with his hand for you to come inside before you finally dropped your hand holding the bag back down to your side and took the few steps needed to enter the house. You havdn't visited England's house for a while, so it felt a little unusual to be here again after such a long time, especially when you knew that someone else was already inside.

As soon as you entered the living room, you instantly stopped in your tracks, feeling your eyes widen a little and your jaw drop slightly open in surprise. There sitting on the couch you saw America, dressed in totally different, seemingly more elegant clothes, a serious look on his face as he concentrated on reading a book he was holding in front of him, not seeming to notice your sudden presence in the room.

"Wow..." you muttered as England walked up and paused next to you. "America looks so much different than he was before..."

"Yes, and I have to admit that I like his current behavior a lot more than his last one," he replied before he crossed his arms and smiled in satisfaction. "He is much more obedient, quiet, and far less annoying than he was a month ago."

That was when you mentally confirmed that yours and England's views on America were completely different. While England found several negative things about America's personality and much more often than not thought of him as rude, loud, disobedient, lazy, and irritating, you had found him loyal, sincere, protective, and caring. Well, that was before he had so carelessly left you to deal with your depression like the inconsiderate, selfish person he had been, causing you to yell at him and get him into a car accident. Now you had no idea how his personality changed. Oh god...what if he was acting exactly the same way as England? You already found it difficult to properly get along with the Brit, and you really didn't want to have the same relations with America as well.

"Alfred," England said rather loudly after a few moments of silence. You had gone into a daze by then, and the sudden sound of his voice right next to your ear caused you to slightly jump in surprise. "You have a visitor," he continued, and a few seconds later, America marked the page he was on before he lifted his head to look up at you.

When the both of your gazes met, you gave him a tiny, slightly uncertain smile before you hesitantly waved. His eyes held confusion for a few seconds until realization came to him and he smiled back at you, causing your heart rate to increase by only the slightest amount.

"Hello, Miss _____," America said politely before he set his book down next to him, stood up from his place on the couch, and walked in your direction, pausing when he was only a few feet away from you.

Miss _____? you thought surprisingly. Nobody had ever called you that, and the person you had least expected to do so was America. You lifted your gaze so that it was once again able to lock with his, amazed at how close he was to you even though he really wasn't that close. It felt weird seeing him wearing something other than that boring white hospital gown, but now it seemed as if you were looking at a totally different person.

"Oh, um...hello," you murmured, unsure of what else you were supposed to say.

America smiled before he extended his hand out towards you, causing you to lower your gaze and stare down at it in confusion and surprise. Before you were able to have any other thoughts, you lifted your free hand and used it to shake his, hoping he wouldn't have noticed how hot and sweaty it was. It felt strange and a bit awkward to know that America was aware that the both of you were holding hands, even though it certainly wasn't in the way that you had hoped. He had broken away from the handshake far too early than you had originally anticipated, and your instincts almost convinced you to reach out and grasp his hand again, but you were able to stop yourself before you made any other movements.

"It feels like I haven't seen you in such a long time, Miss _____," America said to you as he kept his gaze fixed on you, causing you to take a tiny step back. "How has everything been?"

"Oh, it's been...pretty swell...." you lied as you rubbed the back of your neck with your hand. You certainly didn't want him to know about all the hell you've been through before and after he had lost his memory.

America nodded. "That's good to hear." A few moments passed in silence before he lowered his gaze so that it was fixed on your bag, and he pointed to it. "Do you mind telling me what's in the bag, Miss _____?"

Instantly, you dropped your gaze down to the bag that you still held tightly in one hand. You grasped its handles tightly before you extended your arms so that it was almost directly in front of America. "Oh, these are just some clothes for you," you said, trying to keep your voice as steady as possible.

"For me?" he asked as his eyes slightly widened. "You didn't have to bring me clothes, Miss _____."

"Oh, uh...I just felt like it would've been good for you to have some," you said quietly before America reached out and grasped the handles of the bag and you were finally able to release your abnormally tight grip on them.

You watched with your hands folded patiently in front of you as America examined the clothes that were in the bag, sifting through them for a few seconds before he finally looked up at you and smiled. "These are great. Thank you, Miss _____."

"Oh, it's nothing, really," you said a bit awkwardly before you looked down at your fingers and began to fiddle with them. An unusually long silence stretched between the both of you, and you had forgotten that England was still standing right next to you before he brought his hand to his mouth and cleared his throat.

"I suppose now would be a good time to eat. Would any of you care for some food?" he asked before he shifted his gaze so that it was able to briefly meet both yours and America's.

"I would, Mr. Kirkland," America said, the tone in his voice brightening in happiness.

You, however, instantly felt your stomach clench and you looked at England a bit uncertainly. " thank you," you said softly. "I recently had lunch before I arrived here, so..."

He returned your gaze understandingly and nodded, making you thankful that you hadn't offended him. "That's fine," he replied before he walked into the kitchen, leaving only you and America in the living room.

You closed your eyes and sighed before you opened them again and walked over to the couch, where you exhaustingly plopped down on it and leaned your head back, thankful to give your legs a break after walking seemingly all day.

You were able to hear America's footsteps as he walked over to the couch and slowly sat down next to you, drifting his gaze off to the side and fiddling with his fingers a bit anxiously. When you moved your head so that you were able to look at him, you let out another sigh. How could it be so hard for you to start a conversation with America when just a month ago, you were able to talk to him freely and easily about anything?

"So...Ame—I mean, Alfred," you began softly. At the sound of your voice, America shifted his gaze so that it was able to meet yours, and when it did, you continued. "How is it like living with, um...Mr. Kirkland?"

"Oh, it's pretty good," America said as he leaned back in his seat and began to fiddle with his fingers, turning his gaze back in front of him. "It's several times better than living at the hospital."

You let out a tiny, slightly nervous laugh before you looked down at your hands, which were placed on your lap. "Th-That's good to hear."

Why was it so hard for you to have a conversation with America? A part of you wanted to slap yourself in frustration for not having the ability to talk to him as easily as you used to. Now he was acting totally different, and you were barely able to have a conversation with him anymore. You missed always coming to him and talking to him about any problems you had and knowing that he always would've been there to help you fix them. You couldn't believe that the person you were sitting next to right now was the same one who you had cherished and trusted so much.

You were beginning to miss America so much that it was practically killing you.


One afternoon a few days later, you were lying on your couch, your chin rested comfortably on top of your pillow as you stared blankly out the window, thinking about what you were going to do with your life, which seemed to be getting lonelier and more depressing with each passing day. You hardly seemed to be doing anything productive these days. Your boss was still giving you paperwork as usual, though you kind of slacked off when it came to sitting down and actually focusing on doing it. All you ever seemed to pay attention to was the past and the present, and how things were going to be different. How was the United States going to deal with everything now that their personification lost his memory and was hardly able to take care of himself?

Your thoughts were interrupted by the sudden ringing of your phone, which was placed on your coffee table. You sighed in exhaustion before you reluctantly hauled yourself up into a sitting position and reached forward to grasp the phone before you turned it on and pressed it to your ear.

"Hello?" you asked a bit wearily, trying not to sound too irritated.

"_____, I need to talk to you about something important." You instantly recognized the voice of England, and the realization made you let out a loud, long sigh before you leaned back in your seat and began to subconsciously play with a strand of your hair.

"Fine," you muttered. "What is it?"

There was a slight pause before England began, and you were able to notice a bit of uncertainty in his voice. "Well, in case you didn't know or might've forgotten, there's a meeting that we have to attend to tomorrow. It's mandatory that the both of us go, but I'm not sure what I'm going to do with America. If I leave him here, who knows what trouble he might get in to? But I'm not certain about bringing him along with me if he might get too bothersome."

You sighed before you rolled your eyes. "So why are you asking me this?"

"I want to know your opinion on what you think I should do," England replied with the same tone as before. "I'm asking you whether or not it would be a good idea to bring America along to the meeting."

"I don't think there's any problem in doing that," you said after a few brief moments of silence. "It'll give him a chance to meet all the other countries. But we're going to have to tell him that he lost his memory without him knowing it. If all the countries are going to start to believe something about him that he thinks isn't true, he's going to get angry."

A few seconds passed in silence before you heard England sigh through the phone. "Alright. I suppose there won't be any significant harm in bringing America with me to the meeting. Thank you, _____."

After the both of you hung up, you tossed your phone on the other side of the couch before you sighed and closed your eyes. You had honestly forgotten that there was going to be a meeting. Well, with all of the stuff that you've been through this past month, it would've been easy for you to forget about something that you had previously done as a regular routine.

At least you were going to be seeing America again. Maybe the presence of all the other countries would've been enough to make him remember at least something.
:iconlegaspplz: Is there a chance America might get his memory back again? e-e


Link to the rest of the chapters are here: [link]
I do not own the preview image .-.
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YenBeilschmidt Featured By Owner Aug 4, 2014  Hobbyist Writer
Nein! I don't want another England! 
GreenMiku Featured By Owner May 6, 2014  Hobbyist Artist
I love England, but I don't think anybody could handle two of him XD 
KattIsDere Featured By Owner Jan 28, 2014
......I.....Don't......Want.....ANOTHER ENGLAND!!!!!
purpledragonflies Featured By Owner Jan 14, 2014  Hobbyist General Artist
LauraNinjaOfRainbow Featured By Owner Jan 9, 2014  Hobbyist Writer
fireflies-at-sunset Featured By Owner Dec 15, 2013  Hobbyist General Artist
americangirl122 Featured By Owner Nov 18, 2013  Student Artist
Trecna Featured By Owner Aug 21, 2013  Student Writer
I WANT MY 'MURICA BACK!!!! :iconcryingplz:
applekillingfanfirl Featured By Owner Aug 9, 2013
I was thinking while reading this: Reader-chan should play video games with America ....
LoveyouCry Featured By Owner Feb 23, 2014  Hobbyist General Artist
XD yes! that would help I believe!
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