America slept soundly, his breathing light and his eyes closed with content. The sun poured through what little space there was from his thick heavy curtains.
Beep! Beep! Beep! "Ugh..." America groaned. Instead of hitting the 'OFF' button, he gladly decides that knocking his alarm clock off his table and breaking it was a much better idea. He facepalms and rolls over.
"Again..." He grabs Texas from under his pillow and puts them on lazily. His door opens slightly, and Canada gently looks in.
"Hey, good morning... What do you want for breakfast..?" He yawns and rubs his eye. America pondered for a bit and rubbed his chin.
"Pancakes sound good right now." Canada nods and shuts the door, leaving America in his thoughts. He jumps off his bed and takes off his shirt. It lands on the bed without a care as he continues to his closet of MANY t-shirts and jeans. He searches through each rack, softly mumbling 'No...No...No...' He gladly took a gray shirt with the word 'Meh." on it and grabs a random pair of jeans. He heads down the stairs, almost tripping on the last step.
"Today is so gonna be my lazy day... Gonna eat junk food, go to England's house and cudd-... Uh. Sorry." He realizes his brother is staring at him with a slightly annoyed face. Canada just rolls his eyes and serves him his pancakes with a bottle of syrup.
Its quiet as they eat, just the sound of chewing and muffled movements, slightly awkward.
"Well, other than your plans to 'cuddle' with England, I really think you should get started on your presentation for the next meeting. It is in 2 weeks." Canada suggests. America pretend to think and takes another bite of his pancake.
"Yeah, sure. This is a big meeting though. Our bosses are supposed to come, and then there's a formal party afterwards." He frowns at the idea of a fancy suit. He takes a last bite of his breakfast and drops his plate off at the sink.
"I'm gonna get the mail, hold on." He grabs his bomber jacket off the rack next to his door and slips on sandales. Upon opening the door, he is greeted with a large gust of wind. He shivers slightly and heads toward the mailbox. There is a large stack of mail, like he hadn't checked it in a week.
"Junk, junk, junk... Pizza Hut coupon! Junk, junk, junk... Huh?" America looked through his letters rather messily. A strange red envelope with no return address lay in front of him, only his name on the front. He stared, slightly confused. He noticed a small sunflower drawn in the corner where the stamp should be, but chose to ignore it.
"Who would send me this weird letter..?" Tore it open and took out a folded piece of paper. Inside was a beautiful handwritten poem saying:
~..::.. ..::..~You don't understand, my dear~..::.. ..::..~
Even if it is so truly
and plainly there.
In front of you lies
the truth and abides
what could really be
and what really is there.
The truth you wonder,
'How can it be?'
The truth you seek is
The truth that you surely see
What you fear the most,
Has sadly come about
Whether you scream
or
Whether you shout
Think about it my friend
No matter how many times
You seem to talk,
The one love you think you
WANT
May not be the one you NEED.
As lies are spread
So gently about,
Come and seek
Or figure out
~..::.. ..::..~What you think I mean~..::.. ..::..~
"What... Who sent this?" America adjusts his glasses and rereads the poem again. He flipped it back and forth, trying to look for a name other than his. He looks both ways and folds the paper several times before shoving it into his jacket pocket.