Allan McNair. That was the name of the bodyguard, that talked mostly to England and that knew about him being England. He didn't like it. It was a Scottish name. He really didn't need his brother's people to baby-sit him. That was really humiliating.
England was almost regretting ever asking Allan his name. But at that time he felt it would be only fair if they both knew each other's names. But it didn't help his mind, nor did he felt safer. Damn this whole situation. Damn that assassin. And before all, damn France, because this is his fault.
They were all currently in a grocery shop, shopping for ingredients for their dinner. The bodyguards were standing pretty close to him and were distracting him. He didn't like being in the centre of attention, but now he felt as if he was literally wearing shirt with a target on his back. He could feel the stares of everyone in the shop.
England was picking up his things, Allan by his side. He was almost non-stop smirking, which unnerved England. He really didn't like this guy. He really was a Scotsman. Living just to tease English people. Or at least so it seemed to England. Allan reminded England of his brother, save he didn't have red hair and wasn't smoking. But the latter was probably prohibited at work, so it didn't count.
- APH – APH – APH –
Kayla wanted to laugh hysterically, but that would have ruined her image. That and the people around her would look at her weirdly. And that was the last thing she wanted. Right now she couldn't attract attention to herself. She had to look completely normal.
Even though she wanted to scream out from joy. Everything was finally on place. Now she only had to wait a few hours tops and the victory in this little game she was playing with England would be hers. She just could wait. It was as if she was a kid in a candy shop and someone was bringing her her allowance.
- APH – APH – APH –
England was standing in front of his house. His so called bodyguards were checking the house, if it was safe for him to enter. Did they really think that someone would break into his house and set there something up? That was ridiculous. Nobody besides the prime minister, the royal family and of course other nations.
So instead to do their job properly, they went inside, leaving him alone here. He was more in danger here out alone than if he went straight into the house. Could it be…? That they were actually doing something in there? No, he can't think like that. He was becoming paranoid. Soon he might start to suspect his friends and his family.
England sighed as he crossed his arms on his chest. How long will it take them? The frozen food was starting to melt. If he doesn't put it into the freezer soon, it will be all wasted. Then he would be really pissed.
"It's okay," called Allan from inside. England rolled his eyes. Of course it was okay. It was his house. If they just listened to him, they would have spared themselves of this all. It was really tiring and completely unnecessary.
England leaned down and picked up the grocery bags. He was really going to kill Allan if something was spoiled. And he would have continued in his ranting, if he wasn't stopped by a sudden scream. He didn't have the time to fully register what or who it was, when he was suddenly thrown away by a big explosion, which source was of course his house.
England was thrown a few meters away by the sheer force of pressure wave of said explosion. The last thing his fogging mind registered was burning pain, spreading through his whole body. He didn't even hear the screams erupting all around him, nor did he feel anything else for that matter. He just closed his eyes, giving himself up to the welcoming darkness.
Hmm, let's do some math now:
Number of attacks on England – 3
Number of dead people – 5
Mnnm, isn't it nice to have it summed up? Though it is turning into a blood bath…