Yay! 4 fics in a day! This is just a little fic about my OTP, PruCan, and a take on how it came to be.

Reviews are love~

(love)

It was the one thing he coveted the most.

One by one, each of the nations succumbed to it, this disease that they called "love." He hated it, and yet, he desired it. Spain and Romano were the first, England and America soon following. Greece and Japan were next, and even Germany, of all people, had found his match in Italy. If even Germany could find it, then why couldn't he? He was his brother, after all, and so many times more awesome than all of them.

(albino)

But of course, who would ever love him? He was a demon, evil. His skin was unnaturally pale, his hair almost devoid of all pigment. His eyes were red, the color of blood and fire. He was doomed to a life of loneliness and tragedy to all who came near, right? That was what they said – he was evil, unnatural, and ungodly. It was true, wasn't it? All he did was bother people. West, Austria, even Hungary all hated him. Hell, even Russia couldn't resist torturing him. But he deserved it, right?

(friend)

But then, there was France and Spain. They never ditched him, right? They always stayed by his side, no matter what, right? But then again, they were close, bonded by ties so strong that they were practically family. Sometimes, Prussia felt like a third wheel, tagging along with them. It was part of the reason he always acted so obnoxious. He could feel himself fading, he could feel himself being forgotten. People were starting to ignore him, and Prussia didn't like it. Every time West glanced over his antics without a second thought, he died a little more inside. Every time he saw Austria and Hungary sharing a "moment," as it were, he felt his heart break.

(belonging)

So, he started a blog in the hopes he'd meet more people. He adopted a pet, Gilbird. He was adorable, but he couldn't quite fill that empty feeling in his chest. That was, until he met America's adorable little brother. As Prussia spent more and more time with Canada, he felt the gap patch itself up a just a little more. Of course, that wasn't the only reason he hung out with him. Prussia really did like Canada's company, and always stuck up for him when others mistook him for America. They shared pancakes and maple syrup, and Prussia found himself liking the forgotten nation more and more. The two reinforced each other, and soon none of the other nations ignored them quite like they used to.

(loved)

One day, as Prussia was eating pancakes with Canada, he felt a strange tugging sensation. Suddenly, it hit him. The "gap" in his chest had healed, leaving a warm, fluttery feeling in its place. The empty feeling was gone, and with it, so had Prussia's doubt. And that's when it hit him, square in the face. (To be honest, it kind of hurt.)

I'm in love. Pinch me.

If Canada looked at him weird when Prussia let out a (very manly) squeal and rubbed his arm painfully, Prussia would never tell.

(together)

It was a very sunny (almost cliché) day when Prussia came to visit Canada's house that one morning. Canada had opened the door, opened his mouth to speak, and before the poor nation even got the chance to speak, Prussia kissed him. It wasn't a passionate kiss, but a chaste one. Prussia, unlike the public's common opinion, was not "experienced" in these areas, and in fact, he was most likely a virgin. At that time, anyways. When the albino finally pulled away, both nations were blushing furiously and looked away. Their eyes met, and without saying another word, they understood each other. I love you.

(separated)

And so, the two lovers continued in secret, Prussia still going to Canada's house every week to eat pancakes with him. And every single time, without fail, they gave each other a kiss before parting. That is, until one day America barged in on them. Now, before this tale goes any further, a clarification. America and Prussia hate each other with a passion that rivals the sun's fire. Canada and Prussia were currently engaged in a not-so-innocent kiss. Go figure.

America, of course, immediately shoved the two nations apart and began to attack Prussia. Canada tried to intervene, but was silenced by a murderous glare from his brother. Prussia was taken off-guard, and America (no matter how much he hated him) was Canada's brother. Prussia refused to fight him, and was consequently beat to a pulp. Finally, America pulled away and ran off, dragging Canada with him out the door. Prussia could do nothing but watch as he coughed up blood, tears running down his face.

(reunited)

Soon though, the universe had mercy on the two lovebirds. You see, during WW2, while Germany and America were occupied with waging a (very large and bloody) war, Prussia snuck out one night and saw Canada in secret. Canada, of course, was thrilled and embraced Prussia with all his heart. The only problem was, not only was America disapproving, but now they were on different sides of the war. Prussia didn't care, of course. The pair ran off in the middle of the night, not caring where, exactly they went, just seeking refuge in the blackness of the night, and simply going where the wind blew them. After the war, they came out of hiding. America and Germany still held grudges against the other, but hesitantly accepted the relationship, seeing as Prussia would have Canada, whether they were willing or not.

(whole)

Canada makes Prussia feel whole again. Prussia's scars, each flowing with their own twisted, violent history, means nothing to the warm northern nation, who loves Prussia, as he puts it, "just the way you are." Because, even now, when Prussia tries to remember the days when his heart was cracked and his days were empty, all that comes to mind are loving moments shared over a warm serving of pancakes. (With a large helping of maple syrup, of course.)

Was it so wrong to covet?