Iceland was always surrounded by smiling idiots in the stupid nation meetings which he wished he didn't have to attend. He didn't understand why he couldn't just ask Sealand to take his place, who was oh so eager to become a nation anyway, but apparently this was against the rules. Pff. Iceland shouldn't have to listen to rules. He should be able to blow up half these nations with the force of all his volcanoes.
Anyway, Iceland was sitting between America and Denmark, two of the three smiling and oblivious wonders (along with Spain) who can all actually be quite frighteningly badass at times. Admittedly, the mood changes are scary, Iceland didn't know how Norway, England, and Romano dealt with them.
In any case, the fools were constantly showing off their pearly whites to their alleged 'lovers' who were either sitting next to them (in Denmark's case) or across from them (America's case). England was just scowling in return, a light blush dusting his cheeks while Norway was stoically ignoring the Dane's advances (if he was making any at all, Iceland couldn't really see what was going on under the table too well).
Iceland thought it was stupid, how the two constantly denied their counterpart's ceaseless need to publicly display their love through smiles and light touches, but at the end of the day they, too, would get all mushy and clingy and they would just enjoy each others company and would maybe sit together holding hands and recalling their days with one another and...
The meeting was called to a close, and Iceland watched silently as the two couples made their way out of the room. Norway didn't protest Denmark's arm around his shoulder nor did he push him away when he was pulled closer to the Dane. He did, however, say something under his breath which made Denmark laugh boisterously and Norway blush- but just a little (probably unnoticeable to everyone else, but Iceland could tell since they were brothers).
England was trying to be subtle about holding America's hand and was failing miserably. The American blabbered on and on in a one-sided conversation, oblivious to his companion's obvious discomfort in PDA. The Brit, however, didn't seem to mind the constant chatter, and sighed in defeat, resting his head on America's shoulder (which effectively shut him up).
The door closed behind them, and Iceland listened vaguely to the fading footsteps and voices as they all headed back to their homes.
The room was empty and silent now, a cold breeze drifting in through the window. Quietly, Iceland stood up and gathered his things, sweeping out of the room with one fleeting thought before returning to his House.
Maybe smiling like an idiot isn't such a bad thing sometimes...
Iceland strained the muscles in his face, his mouth twitching oddly before his features settled on a light frown.
He just needed a bit more work...
Eh, just a drabble I cooked up for a quiz that demanded an America/Denmark drabble fic. It was more Iceland but whatever, I love Iceland. I need to write him more.
I've been in a real writing mood recently, NaNoWriMo I guess.
(Seriously though, 30 stories... when did that happen?)