You sat on England's lap, happily pointing at the pictures in the book he was reading from. "Yes, he's cute isn't he?" You nodded vigorously, stars in your eyes as you stared at the watercolour. You heard the doorbell ring and you scrambled up to get it.
Hopping, you tried to get a hold of the door handle, but you were just too small to reach. Impatiently, you pouted until England walked over to you chuckling. You were burning with curiosity to know who it was; England didn't have a lot of guests over.
You liked that one black-haired man, he always blushed when you hugged him and often gave you dress-up clothes. Was it him?
"Dude, what took you so long?" Well, that wasn't that same quiet voice you remembered, but it could be him. "Kikuuuu!" You cried, holding onto his leg.
The man chuckled as he met your prying (e/c) eyes. "Sorry to disappoint, but I'm not Japan." He told you as he stooped down to your level, ruffling your hair. You pouted again, glaring at him and poking his face.
"Who are you, th-then?!" You asked, bringing his face close to yours and staring into his cerulean eyes behind his spectacles. "I'm America," he cheered, picking you up and swinging you in a circle," I'm the hero!"
You giggled loudly and snuggled up to him as he held you. "I'm (y/n)." You told him proudly, puffing your chest out.
"Nice to meet ya, dudette!"
Tilting your head, you frowned, not having heard that word before and as such not knowing what it meant. "England? Whut's a dud-dudete?"
England simply shrugged, smiling at you. "Haven't the faintest, love." Nodding thoughtfully, you suddenly remembered your story, squirming to get out of America's grasp.
He put you down and you tottered back over to the sofa, holding the book out for England. "Excuse me for a moment America."
"Don't worry about it." England shot him a grateful look as you reclaimed your seat on him and he finished your story.
By the end of it, you were snoring quietly, warmth soaking through England's clothes from his stomach. You muttered something incoherent in your sleep, your balled fists digging into your human chair.
"She's adorable." America commented, his chin resting on the arm of the sofa. "Isn't she just?" England murmured, stroking your hair.
Sleepily, you blinked your eyes and sat up. "You're already awake love?" You looked around and when you spotted America you crawled up to him, snuggling up to him.
America blushed and cradled you in his arms, grinning at a fuming England. "She can't resist, I mean, I am the hero."
Your fondness of America was made use of by England, he always called America now if he needed someone to babysit you.
It was on one of these occasions that America, or Alfred as he told you to call him, wanted to teach you something.
"Now, all you have to do is repeat what I say, okay?" You nodded intently, watching his every move. "Good!" He grinned and kissed the top of your head, making you giggle. "Alright then let's-"
"Aww wight then, let-s" You started, copying his actions. He shook his head, "No not ye-"
"No, no ye-" He shushed you by placing a finger against your lips. "Drop."
"Dwop." Smiling, he lifted you onto his stomach. "Dead."
"Now, drop dead England."
"Dwop ded Engwand." He held you in the air happily. "You nailed it!" You grinned gleefully, kicking your arms and legs about, cheering.
The two of you glanced at the hallway when you heard the front door open and shut, the sound of a coat being taken off reaching the living room. You smiled happily and waddled off to meet him. "Daddy, daddy! Alfie taught me some-mething!" England picked you up, holding you on his hip and kissed your forehead.
"Oh really? What then?"
"Dwop ded Engwand!" You cried, throwing your hands up in the air. He froze, then glared at the blond. "Americaaa!!!"
After that, America didn't come around anymore. It made you very sad that you didn't get to see your playmate anymore, but before he left, he'd promised he'd be back.
So like the eager child you were, you sat in the window seat every day, hoping the loud American would return. But to no avail.
By this time, sitting in the window had become a habit of yours and often you would fall asleep there, listening to music and wrapped in a blanket.
Your falling asleep was becoming a problem for England, you were getting too big for him to easily carry you to bed, so he'd taken to waking you up to get yourself to bed.
Your cold hands were wrapped by your woolly blanket as they flicked the pages, frost spreading over the glass panes. When you would glance outside, momentarily distracted, the whole world was white.
The warmth you felt was slowly but surely rocking you to sleep and you leant your head back, your eyes fluttering closed.
America walked up the narrow pathway to England's house. The Brit had forgotten some papers in the meeting room and as they were sort of important he'd come to bring them. After all these years he figured England wouldn't mind lifting the ban from him coming to England's house.
Maybe he'd even be able to see you, he never had returned out of the fear of what England would turn him into if he tried. At the very least he kept up to date with you, asking about how you were doing whenever he could. Apologies first, he decided. He buried his nose into his scarf, ringing the doorbell.
After waiting a moment, he tried again, but no such luck. The key under the potted plant was still there, he remarked happily and walked into the glowing heat of the room. His coat hung up, he placed the documents on the table and wondered if you'd already left for bed.
As he glanced around he caught sight of you. Quietly he walked closer to you, reaching his hand out to stroke your cheek.