It had been almost two weeks since America was forced to forget about the girl he had fallen in love without even had seen her face! Anyways, he was hanging out at Russia's place and he felt a strange feeling when the Russian came back from the kitchen with some snacks he had decided to prepare for the hungry American… Who had just had dinner at McDonald's on his way, but he was always hungry, like any healthy man should be.

"There you go, America. I hope you enjoy it"

"What is it?"

America asked, feeling drawn to the food by its succulent aspect and delectable smell. Russia smiled, putting his hands behind his back like he always did when he expected someone's approval.

"It's an old recipe that Irina gave me. It is delicious. She was the Tsar's chef after all"

Russia said, shrugging and hoping America would like the plate he had prepared a thousand times, but never to him. America took a spoonful of the plate in front of him and moaned at the delicious taste of the candied yams. He had eaten something like this before but… Russia's plate was different, it had something he could not describe nor taste. But it was certainly different than others.

"Dude… This is delicious! You are a great chef! Thanks, man!"

America said excitedly while eating the food with delight, making Russia chuckle and unfold a napkin to put it over the American's lap so he wouldn't get crumbs on himself. America continued eating like a rescued castaway and Russia poured some tea for himself. Ever since China showed him how to make tea by himself, instead of having it done for him, he started drinking it like… Vodka. He even went for tea with England every Tuesday at five o'clock. They weren't exactly friends, but England wanted someone else than China to have tea with.

When America was done eating, the two of them started watching a random movie he had brought, because he didn't really like the Soviet cinema and Russia was slowly growing tired of it too, so they decided to watch America's favorite: Daylight. It was actually a pretty good movie, full of action and a little too loud, but Russia liked to see that stupid expression on America's face when he watched the car crashes and the tunnel's explosion. Suddenly, his face morphed into one of discomfort and slight pain and Russia paused the movie.

"Is something wrong, America?"

"Yeah… I think I ate too fast"

He certainly did, Russia thought to himself as he remembered the voracity with which America had eaten those yams in only a couple of seconds. It was a miracle how he managed to stay fit… But he was muscular, so he probably ate like a pig and then (Like he would say) "hit the gym" for a couple hours.

"The bathroom is upstairs, second door to the left"

"Thanks, dude"

"Just do me a favor. Remove the flowers from the bathroom, will you?"

America was a little confused but paid no mind to Russia's request, as he ran upstairs unceremoniously and inside the bathroom, which was painted white and spotless and had two flower vases with sunflowers, which gave the room the only colors. He rapidly took them out of the bathroom and laid them carefully over the Pembroke table in the corridor: The vases and the table looked like they had cost a fortune. America went inside the bathroom and came out a couple minutes later, whistling a merry tune and drying his hands on his pants (Because America's too badass to dry his hands on a stupid towel, bitches!). He put the flower vases inside the bathroom and jumped at the noise of a door slowly cracking open: It was Russia's bedroom door. He decided to explore it, as he had never been there (Nor did he ever had a reason for being in his bedroom). America walked inside the room, which was very spacious and nicely illuminated by the sunlight that went through the several windows. Like the bathroom, it had two expensive-looking vases with sunflowers over the two bedside tables at each side of his King-sized bed (How many pillows did that man needed to sleep?).

His eyes quickly landed on something that was clearly out of place: A short scarlet sleeve coming from the large closet's door. Not that Russia didn't have anything red, he had a scarf, a pair of gloves, boots and even a coat, but he didn't think he had anything short-sleeved. Even if he had, the sleeved looked like it belonged on a lady's closet. America grinned thinking that maybe his friend, Mr. Russia, was just a taller version of Poland (That would be awesome! But he still had to figure out why. But when he did…)

"What the hell?"

America opened the closet door and saw it: A scarlet and white lace crinoline with a black bow in the high cleavage. It looked just like…

"Can it be…? Maria's costume?"

America took it out from the closet and admired the dress that had been worn by the woman he had fallen in love at first sight during that wonderful masquerade at Venice barely two weeks ago. The dress worn by the woman who had broken his heart by running away from him after the most wonderful kiss he had ever had. The woman he had cried himself to sleep for. He felt his blood boiling when Russia entered the bedroom with that silly childish smile.

"America, you are missing the mo…"

A fist collided with his jaw, sending him flying against the wall. He looked up to see a panting, furious America with hate-filled eyes.

"What has that for, America?"

Russia asked, clutching his sore jaw and wiping some blood from his mouth. America pulled him up, grabbing him tightly around his throat and making him gasp for air with a confused and scared face he had never seen before.

"Why the fuck did you do it?! Why did you dressed as Maria in the Carnival?!"

"A-America, p-please…"

"You son of a bitch, you made me kiss you!"

He threw him to the floor and exited the room with a last glare to the crying Russian laying on the floor with rumpled clothes and a bruised face.