You sighed, somewhat melodramatically, wondering briefly why you were there. Oh, right. Alfred. Enough said.
About 20 minutes ago, you had just been harmlessly listening to music, minding your own business, when, suddenly, BAM! Your door slammed open and your American friend stormed in, picked you up and carried you off to his house, saying something about saving you from the sinister clutches of boredom. You tried telling him that you hadn't been bored and didn't need saving, but did he listen? No, of course not.
So now, here you were, sitting in a circle of nations, sandwiched between Yao and Tino, with Alfred shoving a hat in your face and telling you to pick someone to be shoved into a closet with for seven minutes. You rolled your eyes, sighing again to emphasize just how much you didn't want to be here. No one seemed to take notice.
Finally, you shoved your hand into the hat, pulling out a piece of paper with a name on it.
"Well? Who'd ya get?!" America asked excitedly, practically bouncing on his heels. You unfolded the paper. The name you saw written there innocently made your breath hitch and your [colour] eyes widen. "Hellooo? [Name]?!" The blond hero's voice snapped you out of your thoughts. You looked up at him, like a deer caught in headlights. "Who'd ya get?" He asked again. You let out a breath you didn't know you were holding.
"Oh. Sorry. I-it's..."