Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia, Himaruya does.~

/ Warnings: BL/shounen-ai.

Chapter Title: The Lone Star State.

Prussia sighed as the bright, white bold words "GAME OVER" flashed across the wall-mounted flatscreen television centered in Germany's living room. His grip tightened on the sleek plastic surface of the Xbox 360 controller that popped in protest—he would have easily split the thing in two if America hadn't stolen it from him. "Why don't you lower the difficulty? You've got it set to Suicide," the blonde piped up from in front of Prussia, setting down his ballpoint pen on the nearby coffee table.

"No way! I've already beat it on Easy and Normal and Hard, and I'm just that awesome to beat it on Suicide too! You'll see, I'll own this verdammt game!" Prussia shot back, his boisterous statements punctuated by a characteristic kesese before resting his chin on America's shoulder.

His eyes shut for a long moment: he had been playing this game since he had woken up that morning, which was almost twelve hours ago. He felt America shuffle in front of him, the other's back relaxing against his chest. Prussia's arms tightened around the sandy blonde then, leaning forward just a bit to peck the shell of America's ear before opening his eyes. "Are you done with your work yet?"

"Hardly," America replied exasperatedly, a hand flitting up to push back a few strands of hair that had fallen in his eyes, "I always get swamped with work when the economy goes bad, dude, and right now the economy's kicking my butt… and there's the election coming up… it's just been paperwork central."

America adjusted then to full-out lie against the Prussian, legs stretched out down the length of the four-cushion sofa that they had occupied the entire day. Something on the right side of the other's face caught Prussia's eye for a second; when he blinked, he could see the glimmer of gold that had imprinted his retinas, so he knew it wasn't just his eyes going wonky on him. "Huh?" he mumbled under his breath as he grabbed America's head and tilted it back, ruby gaze scrutinizing the place just in front of the other's ear where something had undoubtedly flashed across his periphery.

"Dude, you okay? Watch out, don't bump Nantucket or anything," America reminded, a very light shade of rouge swelling within the apricot complexion of his cheeks at the thought.

The only thing that Prussia noticed between the blonde's ear and eye was the metallic frame of America's glasses. He leaned closer to those frames, stopping just short of his periphery blurring from his too-close proximity: he didn't really have to get that close to see what was there, but he did so anyway.

A tiny star proudly stood out against the metal, engraved with what looked like a knife—judging from the supremely jagged appearance—atop the hinge on the right side of America's glasses. "Hey, I never noticed this little star here before," Prussia remarked, pulling his face away from the side of America's head, an enigmatic smirk upturning his lips. "One tiny little star, huh? What's it mean?"

America chuckled before turning to fully face Prussia, the albino's hands falling to his sides. "You know that my glasses represent the state of Texas, right?"

Prussia nodded.

"Do you know what its nickname is?"

Another nod. "The Lone Star State. That one's easy to remember."

"Okay, good. Do you know why Texas is called the Lone Star State? Ever wonder about that?" America tilted his head off to the left just slightly, an amused smile piquing the corners of his mouth.

"You got me there, but ja, I've wondered about it. It's a catchy nickname."

Something about America's eyes changed then, a distant look gamboling within the cerulean that never ceased to remind Prussia of a cloudless sky. The ex-nation could tell that America wasn't exactly viewing the room that they were in anymore. He knew that the blonde didn't really see him sitting there, because he was overly familiar with that look of nostalgia lingering within the other's eyes: America reflected on the time in which he acquired his spectacles, and the star carved into the side. "That single star symbolizes the struggle Texas went through to gain its independence from Mexico. It serves to remind everyone of that struggle… of the battles and clashes and agreements that I, alongside President James Polk, underwent to annex that state, and to essentially gain the key to the southwest part of my land, back in the nineteenth century." He chuckled before continuing, "Polk actually took my glasses, whipped out a pocket knife and put that star there himself, so I'd never forget how hard I fought to help my state, how determined I was back then, when times got rough."

Prussia's arms had already wrapped around America again by the time he finished: the broad American appeared almost surprised to find himself in an embrace when he broke out of his reverie. Prussia's voice lowered to just above a whisper, crimson eyes serious. "Does it help you to keep going, when you think back on that, Liebe?"

This time America's smile was softer as he nodded, a hand flickering up as the tip of his index finger traced the engraved star. "Yeah, it really does. It gives me hope when I think I can't do anything else, when I feel the most powerless… heck, I survived a war back then, one of way too many in my history. Something like the economy ain't gonna bring me down now!" The fiery determination and solid will that America was known for shone through in his tone, taking Prussia by surprise: he hadn't realised, up until that point, that America's voice had been much duller than he was accustomed to without those two qualities underlying his timbre.

"Gut! That's the awesome America I know and love! Kesese!" Prussia grinned as he pulled America close, cheek brushing against the other's forehead.

America visibly reddened, his forehead smouldering against the other's skin. "Haha, you're silly. Love you too, Gil."