England sits politely behind his desk, sipping a cup of lavender tea that he had brewed a bit earlier. His vibrant green eyes locked into his diplomatic paperwork that sat upon his desk. He had a few nonsense papers to sign for his boss, the prime minister. A sigh escaped his lips as he placed the porcelain cup back upon the desk, and flicked his pen between his fingers. Not looking up from his work to look at you behind the door, staring. I know you're there. What is it that you need?
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