Hetalia story centered around the states - specifically Pennsylvania. Has no real plot, would probably just be a collection of stories about the east coast states. 

New York was getting on his nerves - again.

Something petty had sparked the argument between them, though he was having trouble trouble recalling exactly what it had been.

Had someone mentioned Philadelphia becoming the nation's capitol (however short-lived the glory)? Or were they comparing crime rates?

(Statistically, New York City was far safer than Philadelphia, a fact that irked Will to no end, as well as Taylor, who'd lost a bet)

Britt Jones was a master of digging prickling claws beneath William's skin, possessing innumerable ways in which he could potentially piss off the Pennsylvanian; he could hardly muster the curiosity involved to determine just what it was that set them off this particular time.

Still, the fact persisted that he was pissed.

"Britt," Will snapped, regretfully lifting his face from the crook of his arms to meet his brother's electrics blue stare across the table, "enough. We've more important matters to discuss before Alfred gets here."

"Yeah, yeah, I know," Britt sighed, far from the apologetic whisper Will's tone suggested it should have been. He waved a hand, his limp slice of pizza trailing minuscule droplets of crimson along the arc (Will grimaced as he felt the warm sauce splatter across his nose, tainting his cheeks an unsightly scarlet). "But, c'mon, I just don't get it! Why the hell would they pick Philly over my awesome NYC when it was clearly the more attractive offer for a new capitol?"

Ah. One mystery solved; the rest involving Britt's personality, though, remained pitifully shrouded behind the turned-up collar of the North Face he insisted on wearing indoors.

A murmur of amusement rippled along the table as states turned to press their lips to a neighbor's ear, already in the throws of making bets and predicting outcomes. Will ignored them. What they chose to find entertainment in had little to do with himself, even if he was an unwilling (but of course not unwitting) participant in their dose of daily smack downs.

"I don't see why you care now," Will said as he pushed back his chair, scraping the legs carelessly over the weathered wooden floor of the meeting hall, and stood. He braced his palms against the table, lowering himself so as to meet Britt's provocative blue with his own mysterious black. "D.C. holds that prestigious position at the moment. And besides, New York City was, as one point, the capitol."

"But your cities have been picked, like, three times! Tell me how that's fair, huh?"

Something unpleasant seized Will's features, and his mouth curled cruelly, his starless eyes glittering sharply behind the dark, tousled locks that had escaped that morning's careful brushing. A thought - quite unkind in nature - had already lodged itself in the forefront of his mind, willing him to act - and then a gentle warmth settled over his hand, squeezing silent encouragement into his flesh as it uncurled his clenched fingers.

He caught Hannah's eye from the corner of his own, and at once the roiling fury left his body, sweeping his strength along with it. He collapsed back into his chair without another word, and the meeting progressed as though his interruption had never taken place.

It might as well haven't; this was not the first time he and New York had nearly come to blows over insubstantial rivalries from the past.

How long he sat there, stewing among his own thoughts, he couldn't say; time was flimsy and inconsistent when it held the importance of a faintly buzzing fly beside your ear. But he was forcefully recalled to the immaterial world of reality when Hannah called his name.

He had a nagging suspicion she'd been doing it for some time already.

"Yes? Sorry, Hannah, what is it?"

Her lips curved into a soft smile. In the broken shafts of sunlight slanting in through the drawn blinds of the window behind him, her hazel eyes sparkled almost knowingly and her tanned skin was dappled with shadows cast by her dark, fluttering lashes.

Another weight of anxiety lifted from his compressed chest.

"It's nothing," she said, guiding him from his seat. "Just that the meeting's over, and Alfred didn't show."

Will was unsurprised. "He rarely comes, and when he does his mouth is so stuffed by McDonald's he's completely unintelligible anyway."

Darkness tinged the boardroom now; shadows crept across the floor, lengthening as the sun withdrew beneath the distant horizon. Through a half-open window, Will could barely make out the swirl of molten colors pooling throughout the once-blue canvas of sky.

Hannah seemed to predict his next question, though perhaps it was more accurate to say she knew him well enough that his thoughts were obvious to her.

"Nothing much was accomplished," she told him while he slipped his coat from the stand beside the door, handing off a hat to Hannah in turn. "We argued a bit about trade regulation, Vermont and Maine were pressing for the rest of us to turn green. Really, the same as usual."

"Yeah, I'd say the Northeast meetings always go about the same way. I'll have the ask Taylor if it's the same with the Southern delegation."

"Oh, I'd rather not listen in on one of their meetings," Hannah said mirthfully, though the insubstantial twitch that pulled at one corner of her mouth told another story. "I have trouble enough understanding Texas with his accent; I don't think I'd understand a thing with all the variations shouting at once."

"They'd say the same about us," Will pointed out. Hannah only shrugged, and Will didn't press the subject. It meant little to him how Hannah perceived the Southern states, though he admitted to himself that he was curious as he followed her clicking heels from the room.

We all have our secrets, he thought carelessly as the door shut with a rattling thunk and the last echo of companionship fell silent.