America glanced at the girl in his lap. He was shocked to see [e/c] staring intently at him. Or - more specifically - the gravity defying cowlick he sported on the front of his face.
Currently, the United States of America was cuddling on the couch in his apartment with [Name], the Country of [Country Name]. England and France would never let him live it down if they saw him, but he didn't care. The girl in his lap meant much more to him than that.
"Dude, whatcha starin' at?"
"The...that...whatever it is!" she sputtered, gesturing wildly at the piece of hair.
"Oh, Nantucket?" America laughed.
"The island of Nantucket! You know - my glasses are Texas, and my cowlick is Nantucket!"
Then, there was a flash of a [s/t] hand moving upwards, and America felt a light tug on Nantucket.
America suddenly sat up straight, his blue eyes slightly out-of-focused.
"Don't do that," America scolded. This made [Name] grin mischievously.
"Because. I know your boundaries, and if you continue to do that, there ain't gonna be any boundaries, sweetheart."
You loved when his accent thickened and showed some Southern aspects. Most of the time, he sounded like a New Yorker, but when he was extremely stressed, relaxed, in pain, or happy, he gained this adorable Southern accent.
"Fine," you grumped, pouting adorably.
America sighed. It wasn't fair. She was just...far too cute.
"Fine!" He said with a smile and a blush, "Once!"
Before he could even finish the word 'once', there was another small hand on his Nantucket curl, and another light tug.
"You have no idea."