“Ohhhh.” he nodded in understanding. “So you DID call in sick then?”
“I did. Pretty much had to.” He laughed some more.
“I knew you would have to.” For the severalith time that day, he allowed himself to smile.
He was sure smiling a lot lately.
“Yeah yeah, whatever.” He smiled back at him.
Adjusting his position on the couch to better face Alfred, he asked, “So would asking for dinner be a bit too much? I was afraid to get anything on the plane since the hostess looked sick.”
“Not at all! I got you some McDonald’s, but…you were late and I didn’t want it to get cold so I kinda ate it.” He laughed weakly.
He shrugged it off. “That’s no problem, I’ll just go rifle through your fridge then if that’s alright.”
“If you want to that’s fine.” He wasn’t exactly sure how much food he had in there, not being able to sit in front of a TV for that long without eating a ton.
England got up, going into the kitchen, pulling out random items.
America’s stomach grumbled a bit. “….HOW MUCH STUFF IS IN THERE. CAN I HAVE SOME TOO.”
After successfully emptying the contents of the kitchen, he realized how much food the American didn’t have.
In front of him all there lay was a loaf of bread, a four day old half opened coke, a package of condensed milk, and an old Rolo he found on the floor.
“…. So I’ll be at the grocery store.”
“I wanna come~ I really need to get some food~”
“I was going with the intention of getting you food, so yes, you may come.”
“Shyeah~ It’s not like I was just gonna let you go for me, anyway.” he laughed, getting up and going into the kitchen.
He shrugged once more. “So you’d deny the food?”