America X Reader: Every Star in the Sky ch. 4

It's the new year. So much has happened in this past year, like meeting and falling for your best friend, Alfred F. Jones.

And he's scheduled to come to visit you tomorrow. You and him are going to venture through the natural beauty of your country—which makes up for its lack of money—and find every bit of adventure that you can. You're still reserved, but Alfred has made you a tad more friendly and bold.

You've pulled on shorts and a tank top to sleep, curling up in your comfy covers. (name), the teddy bear Alfred gave you back in November, is next to you, and you turn to it, closing your eyes. America was right; this teddy bear, while not even alive, has made you feel a bit better after these reoccurring nightmares of being forgotten and unwanted. Even if (name) isn't alive, you know he'll always love you.

You hear a sound and open your eyes, startled. Someone's inside your house! You're about to get up when your door creaks open, and a scream escapes your lips as the person steps in.

"What's wrong?" he asks, and the moonlight that's faintly streaming in allows enough light in the room so that you can vaguely see that's it is just Alfred.

"I…well, I thought you were some sort of thief or murderer! I mean, what kind of logical person walks into someone's house unannounced in the middle of the night and doesn't expect some sort of negative reaction?" you scold him.

"So…so you're mad?" he whispers, and you hate to see him so…depressed. Your words obviously hurt him.

You shake your head, sitting up. "Sorry. But I thought you were supposed to arrive tomorrow morning?"

"I took an earlier flight. I was expecting to show up before night fell, but I forgot that we have different time zones." You make way for him to sit down next to you. "I'm sorry, ________. I just wanted to surprise you. I thought you'd be happy."

"I am, really." You lean your head on his shoulder. "I'm sorry for yelling at you."

"Um, ______? Where am I staying tonight?" he asks softly against your ear, and the sound makes you feel fuzzy inside.

"I have a guest room," you say as you stand.

"Oh," he says, sounding quite disappointed.

"Um, is something wrong?" you ask him, but he shakes his head sadly, standing. He starts for the door.

"I can find the room by myself. I'll see you in the morning, ______." He stops just as he's about to cross the threshold, and he sort of smirks. "And hey, you know that plate you always complain about, the one I took the first night I was here, on your birthday? I brought it back."

My face lights up, and I smile. "Really?" you ask, actually surprised he remembered to bring it back…finally.

"Yeah, see you in the morning, ______,"

He's smiling as he leaves, and you close the door, your heart fluttering.

You finally get back into your bed, bringing (name) close to you. You close your eyes, mixed feelings inside you about Alfred's sudden arrival.

***

Sobs are erupting from your chest, and you shoot up, clutching the spot right above your heart. You just had another one of those dreams, one where no one cared and no one knew you existed. You grab (name), pulling him close to your chest, and you bury your face in your knees, trying to sustain the cries.

Your door flies open.

Alfred.

"________! What's wrong?" he asks as he falls beside you, pulling you into his arms. You shake your head against his chest, but you eagerly grasp him. "_________," he says in a gentler tone. "________, don't you want to tell me what you dreamed about?"

"No. Just…don't worry about it," you whisper into his shirt. His arms go limp, and you pull back, looking into his bright, blue eyes. "I'm sorry for scaring you."

"Don't be silly. Heroes don't get scared," he tells you, but he's monotonous, and he keeps his expression guarded.

"I…I should get back to resting. We've got a long day tomorrow, right?" You laugh weakly as you lay back down, your (color) hair spilling all over the cotton pillows. You're absolutely surprised when he gets himself under the covers with you. "W-what are you doing?!"

"I'm staying here so you're not scared," he tells you, but he turns away from you. "Goodnight."

Your heart pounds like thunder, but you don't protest. You get (name) and hug him, trying to calm down your system.

It doesn't help later, when Alfred, deep in his sleep, turns around and pulls you against him. The heat of his body does wonders for you, but you don't say a word. Like this, you fall asleep peacefully. Alfred seems to have the capability to stop your nightmares.

***

Of course, you wake earlier than he does. You manage to untangle yourself from him, and you head into the kitchen to make him a big breakfast—one with lots of bacon.

You are about to take the bacon off the fire when someone—Alfred—suddenly hugs you from behind. You're so startled that you almost drop the bacon, but you manage to place the on one of the burners that isn't on.


"Good morning!" he exclaims, and you're wondering what's up with all the…touching. Not that you mind it, but it's definitely odd.

"Good morning, America," you say calmly.

"Hey, you okay?" he asks, noting the severe difference between his greeting and mine.

"Yeah, always," you answer as you slide out of his grip. "I made tons of bacon. Interested?" You turn around with a gentle smirk on your face.

"Yeah! Totally!" America cheers as he heads for his bags strewn near your door. He pulls out your plate wrapped in newspaper. You're surprised at the careful consideration that went into wrapping it, and at how gently he's holding it and caring for her. It's almost like it's precious to him. "Here you go, ________! Washed and everything!"

"Thank you!" you blurt as you take it, and Alfred's beaming like he just won the teacher's favorite award. It's just so, so adorable. ♥

"So, what's first for today?" he asks as he sits down at the table.

"Anything you want to do."

***

It's high noon, and you two are standing on large boulders in front of a waterfall. Since summer (which runs from March until October) and the daytime of winter is usually so hot, this is a favourite place of yours to cool off. You're wearing a white T-shirt and denim shorts over a bikini—an appropriate one that covers all the right places, of course. Not to mention it's in (color), your favorite.

"Who's jumping in first?" Alfred yells over the roar of the water as it crashes onto the rocks and pool at the base.

"You can go!" you inform him, and he takes off his shirt. You find yourself staring at him momentarily before remembering that you two are just friends. "Go on!" you urge.

"Whoo!" he screams as he takes a running start and cannonballs in.

You walk towards the edge of the rock you're on, sitting down in front of the water. Alfred resurfaces, his hair blackened from the water. He grabs your feet, and you let a scream escape from the back of your throat. You try to grasp onto the rock, but it obviously doesn't work, and you nearly fall in. Your whole body crashes through the icy water, and you watch the world from underneath as your momentum pushes you down.

Alfred doesn't let you sink; of course he wouldn't.

"Augh!" you say as bob on the surface, moving your legs to stay afloat. "Why'd you pull me in?"

"You weren't jumping in!"

"I was going to!"

And then you both started laughing.

Alfred clutches you against him, and he tells you, with a sweet expression, "You know, you're the best person ever."

You go scarlet, and you stammer out your next words. "I-I am? O-oh. Tha-thank you."

"You're never mean to me. You don't treat me like I'm stupid or like I'm going to have a heart attack due to clogged arteries. You don't act like I'm annoying. You're just really nice to me, and I really like that."

You have to smile at his words. "Well, you don't act like I'm some mean, quiet, nonexistent, little country. So, thank you as well."

"_______, I need to—"

Alfred gets cut off by the sound of…Francis? What the hell is he doing here?

"________!" France yells, running to you. His blonde hair is swaying to and fro, and he stops in front of the pond. "_______! I've decided to hold a ball tonight!" What a manly thing, holding a ball. Yet, it is the delicacy and poise that France holds that makes him so…well, France. "All the countries are coming, and I want to know if you'll accompany me!"

"How'd you find me?" I ask as I swim towards him.

"Oh? I just asked around." He smiles proudly and holds out his hand to help me get out of the water. I don't take it. "Will you be my date?"

"Um, well, America and I are hang—"

"Oh, America is invited as well!"

"Well, we're—"

This time, it's Alfred who cuts me off. "You should go, _______." He says, but he sounds…angry. It's so unlike him… "I need to catch an early flight back to my country, anyway. I have…business."

"America?" you ask softly as you watch him get out of the water. He gets his shirt, and he refuses to look at you. "America, don't go."

"No, really!" He attempts at laughing, but you can tell that it is staged. "Have fun with Francey pants over there! I'm…busy anyway."

He doesn't stop to listen to anything else, walking off. You're left feeling broken and…well, really miserable. You were having so much fun with him, and now…

"Sorry, Francis," you say as you get out of the water. Your (color) bikini top is bright against the wet, white T-shirt you're wearing. "I'm busy tonight as well."

And you walk all the ways home, your heart heavy. When you arrive, Alfred has already left.