Perhaps it was just him…

Actually, yeah. It was almost definitely just him.

But lately things had been changing for Lithuania.

Ever since that meeting, when Russia had reminded him of just how much he had hated living in that frozen house and Poland had intervened, the blonde had been acting a little differently.

Oh, of course, he still nattered on as usual, talking about wonderful nothingness that Lithuania couldn't help but be engrossed in. Poland's voice, whether it was going on about ponies or lightbulbs, always seemed to echo in his head nowadays. His wish to be closer to the other nation wasn't new-founded- Lithuania had always been glad of their firm friendship- but it had developed into something stronger. Much stronger. But this was just him.

Stupid old Toris, kidding himself over nothing.

But lately, every time Poland's hand had brushed his, he couldn't help but shake the feeling his touch had lingered for longer than usual. Those hands that had defended him so many times, those that had wielded sword and gun alongside him. Every time his eyes met the light that shone from Poland's own, he couldn't help but think there was something stirring just below the surface…

Then, of course, Poland would go and do something so completely Poland-like that Lithuania would despair, shrink back and fall silent, cursing the fickle heart that leapt every time Poland looked to him. Even when he phoned with totally irrelevant rants, Lithuania found himself listening, instead of his usual switching off and offering the occasional murmur of agreement. It wasn't as if he was going to get a word in edgeways (this WAS Poland after all), but for some reason he still couldn't draw himself away.

The phonecalls were lasting longer too. That, Lithuania knew, wasn't his imagination. He could count the seconds before, but now he found the clock moved without him even glancing at it- something the always-on-edge Baltic state hadn't thought possible.

He sighed, shuffling and turning over. The light that shot through his window and probed under his duvet despite his best attempts to keep it out was so reminiscent of Felix's eyes that it made Lithuania think that, for a second, he was there in his house.

"LIET! LIET~"

Oh great.

The shout echoed all around the house, repeating and increasing in volume until his bedroom door burst open. Poland leaped in- well, Lithuania assumed he did, he only heard the floorboards creaking in protest to Poland's jumping on them. He felt like a tub of freezing water had just been thrown over him as Poland yanked off his duvet. He groaned quietly, rubbing his green eyes and sitting up-

Then, suddenly, it hit him.

Poland was here.

Wearing a dress.

He was sat in bed.

In his underwear.

"Felix!" Toris protested, a crimson blush colouring his cheeks. "You shouldn't wake people up like that!"

Then, Lithuania noticed exactly what Poland was clutching in his hand.

"No… Feliks, no!" Lithuania seemed to visibly shrink away from that thing in Poland's hands. It was black and white and frilly and… oh lord, there were bows.

"Liet, you'll look, like, totally cool in this!" Poland chirped in his own way, brandishing the dress. Lithuania swung his legs over the other side of the bed to where Poland was standing and stood up, opening his wardrobe for anything that wasn't frilly.

"Uh, no. You're the one who wears the dresses."

"Please…" Poland was next to his side in a second, bright green eyes shining with pleading so much that he looked like a puppy dog. "…please, Toris?"

Ah, shit.

"Well, maybe just this once…"