Bilateral: Stuck

They’d only been trapped in the elevator for two minutes before America started freaking out. The moment Mexico looked over, he saw his neighbor pressed into the corner, eyes wide and a light coat of perspiration on his face.

“Oh, God, it’s happening.”


America groaned. “Someone tampered with the wires… This was planned. Oh, God, it must have been… it could have been anyone!” Suddenly he looked up, pupils dilating. “Do you hear that? There’s someone up there. It’s Russia! I can hear her! That scheming, sadistic, little–”

Something made a noise and America jumped. He began laughing, though the laughs were nervous and strained and slightly concerning.

“I’m losin’ it!”

“Your mind?”

“No, Mexico, my shit! I am going to friggin lose my shit!” He ran for the doors and fruitlessly tried to pry them open. “If I die, the terrorists win!

When the whole ordeal was over, Mexico wasn’t sure if America was claustrophobic or just had some serious trust issues.

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