'anks bwotherMore Like This
Scotland rubs his eyes sleepily, not sure about what the hell has just woken him up, but his mind is too fogged with sleep to deeply ponder about it.
He yawns, motionless in his bed - and as he listens to the silence of his room the quiet sound of muffled sobs reaches his ears, answering his unspoken question.
Scotland sighs, threading a hand through his messy red hair in a tired fashion, trying to will his eyes to stay the fuck open.
It's usually up to Wales to deal with little England when he wakes up crying in the middle of the night, but tonight both him and Ireland are not home, so he's technically in charge of the brat.
Needless to say, the thought doesn't thrill him very much.
For a moment he entertains the idea to leave him be, but the thought of what mother-hen Wales would do to him if he discovered that he has ignored England's distress makes him move, although rather half-heartedly.
Scotland tosses the covers aside, untangling himself from the sh