[It's not an unusual thing for Spain to sleep naked, but it is rather unusual for him to sleep naked beside a certain prickly Island. There's certainly something amiss about this picture, but figuring out how that happened will have to wait. On his stomach with a blanket over his nether regions and facing away from England, Spain is still asleep and will probably stay that way until he's actively awoken]
[England is propped up against the headboard, running a weary hand through his hair and then down his face to flop at his side. He casts a glance in Spain's direction- Spain's back's direction, rather- and eventually, steeling himself, extracts his foot from beneath the blankets and prods Spain firmly in the spine with it.]
[With Spain on his stomach, he's quite firmly anchored to the bed and that only causes him to move a little. The foot has enough force behind it to make it hurt, though, and the impact jogs the Spaniard awake, making a soft, pained noise in his throat. Green eyes open a crack for a moment, only to close again upon encountering bright, morning light. He takes his time before opening his eyes again to take in his surroundings, shifting under the blanket covering him. Eventually, his gaze falls on England and he takes a moment to stare at him with narrowed, blank eyes]
...Inglaterra. [The questions are there, unspoken. What are you doing here? What happened last night? Was it you who kicked me? Why did you do that?]
[Now if only Spain is awake enough to start chattering away as he always does]
Reply
Reply
...Inglaterra. [The questions are there, unspoken. What are you doing here? What happened last night? Was it you who kicked me? Why did you do that?]
[Now if only Spain is awake enough to start chattering away as he always does]
Reply
Leave a comment