~Intro~

(The night before a meeting...)

After a shameful amount of begging, America eventually persuades England to watch a Japanese horror movie with him. It took some subtle mentioning of America's previous, much cuter incarnation and his patented puppy-dog eyes ©, but eventually it did the trick. Try as he may, England just can't resist America. Especially when he yearns so badly for his acceptance.

The two are sitting together on the couch, America with his legs up protectively and his face buried in a pillow and England seated beside him. About halfway through the movie, a monster bites the head off of an unsuspecting victim and America absolutely screams bloody-murder. Shaking like a leaf, he leans into England as close as he can get and holds onto him for dear life. With his super strength, he has the potential to inadvertently reenact "Of Mice and Men" with England, but it seems that, through some godly miracle, America manages to keep himself from cutting off England's circulation.

"EEEEEK! OH MY GOD!" Clinging to England as though he may try to escape, America's shrieks ring inside his ears like massive church bells. Over and over and over again. "AHHHHH! SO SCARY!"

At this point, America has all but wet his pants and is closer to England than even a lover would have been. An invasion of personal space, but England doesn't have the heart to try and push him away—and doesn't even really want to. It's not a bad feeling, being this close to America…Dare he say, he actually…kind of likes it?

When the movie is finally over, America wipes tears from his eyes—though, he denies having cried—and praises himself for bravely having gotten through the entire movie. Sighing, England shakes his head and lets out a little laugh. Despite his hero-complex, America is one hell of a crybaby.

"You stupid git. If it scares you that much, then don't watch it. Only an idiot like you would deliberately watch something that scares you so much." England teases with an amused smile. Honestly, America must be a closeted masochist of some sort; he just seems to love tormenting himself.

"But I'm a hero!" America protests. "It's my job to watch things like this."

"That doesn't make any sense, idiot." Brushing it off, (there's no use in arguing with someone so stupid) England lets out a yawn and then stands up. "Well, I'm off to bed, then."

"Wait…wait!" Terrified, America latches onto England's shirt like a parasite. "You can't go to sleep before me! I'm scared! Please, sleep with me tonight!"

"Eh!" Blushing, England hastily removes America's hand and then shoves him away. "Don't say stupid things like that, idiot. You're not a kid anymore." He chides.

Using his best pity-me stare, America pouts his lips and his eyes begin to water a little; a maneuver he's used successfully in the past against Japan when trying to get him to attend a Christmas Party. As expected, it isn't long before England lets out an aggravated sigh and—albeit unwillingly—acquiesces. "Ugh…fine!" he mutters.

America waits for it.

"Idiot."

Curled up by England's side, America dozes soundly with his head on England's torso; England can feel the vibrations of America's snoring in his chest. He notes, a bit disdainfully, that America is drooling on him, but lets it go. The US looks too comfortable to wake; especially over something so trivial. Having observed him for quite some time now, England also notes that America regains his youthful innocence in sleep and is, once again, very cute. In England's opinion, he looks better without Texas; younger too. More like his old, innocent self. What happened to him, Britain wonders? Sure, USA may still look cute now, but the way he acts is far from…where did England go wrong? When did the US become so…self-righteous and hateful?

"I'm never going to fall asleep with your fat arse crushing me…" England mutters to himself. Certain that America is asleep, he doesn't expect America's almost immediate response.

"I'm not fat!" He shrieks, sitting up. "I work it off at the gym!"

"You're awake!" England gasps. America just curls up again and hides under the blankets.

"All of a sudden, I'm scared again." He says, shaking ever so slightly. "Even with you here. I just got a weird feeling." Warily, he peaks his head out of the covers and looks around the room, dimly lit with the moon's bluish rays. He sees nothing out of the ordinary, but to be certain, he gets up and turns the lights on.

Nothing.

Although he may be on the verge of paranoia, he decides to check the bathroom and closet as well. Then, getting on his knees, he lifts his bed's comforter and checks underneath.

Smirking, England taunts the younger a bit. "You really are a child. Checking for monsters under the bed after watching a scary movie."

"Shut up!" America snaps. "There's definitely…something here."

Noticing a blatant shift in America's tone, England arches an eyebrow. "What is it?" he asks, a bit nervous. "Your voice sounds weird." Something is wrong. America never sounds this serious...

There is a long, nerve-wracking pause before America says anything.

"Britain…" His eyes don't meet England's once; Instead, they are intensely fixated on something else. "I think... you should see this…"