yelp, that's not a prompt, but a follow-up to Cold. Lithuania/Poland/Prussia, although Prussia doesn't really show up - I had it written in a notebook for a while but was too lazy to type it up and finish…
—-
Lithuania knocks at the door, mindful of not spilling too much hot liquid in from bowl he is carrying. He's pretty good a bringing food to bedrooms, now, considering how lazy and stubborn both of his lovers are…
He knocks once, then twice. No answer.
"Poland?" he calls tentatively. "I made you some soup. Can I come in?"
There's no reply but a painful-sounding cough, and Lithuania winces.
"Are you alright? I'm coming in, now."
"No!" Poland finally croaks from the other side of the door. He sounds weak and exhausted - Lithuania figures it's because he's lying down under fluffy blankets, germs spreading all over the soft, lovingly-washed fabric… "I'm gross. Go away!"
"Poland," Lithuania says, voice calm and patient as if he were talking to an especially hard-headed child (admittedly, Poland sort of is one, isn't he? he certainly acts like it-) "This is my bedroom too, you can't keep me locked out forever."
"Sure I can." Another miserable cough. It sounds awful, but forcing the door open would make Lithuania get soup all over the place… "… maybe, like, not 'til forever. Just until I get better… promise."
"It could be days," Lithuania lets out a long-suffering sigh. He feels an headache coming on, but he can't get sick too, not when he has these two to take care of. "Let me in, it'll be easier to get better if you eat."
"No way. I'll barf."
"I'll help you clean up, then. Please."
"No!"
"Look, I know you're angry-"
"I'm not angry!" Poland yells with more energy than he probably should, and Lithuania hears a worrying thump and he immediately goes for the doorknob Oh, hell, I'm definitely coming in -
But Poland throws himself at the door before Lithuania can do more but crack it open. All Lithuania can see in the dark bedroom is one of Poland's green eyes, bloodshot and wet in his pale face.
"'m not angry," the smaller nation mumbles. "But I, like, don't want you seein' me like that. I'm way, way gross."
Alright, Lithuania sighs. Time to change tactics.
Lithuania doesn't like admitting to defeat any more than another nation, but he knows the importance of tactical retreat.
"Alright, then," he concedes. "You seem to have plenty energy, throwing yourself around like that-"
"I'm not throwing myself, I'm throwing up!"
"- so I'll bring my soup to someone else, then. I know Prussia needs it, unlike you, it seems."
And he turns, counting the seconds until Poland's outraged splutter -
"No way, Liet! W-wait!"
Lithuania stops in his tracks and turns back, just long enough to throw a glance in Poland's direction. He hopes Poland doesn't notice the effort it takes Lithuania to seem indifferent to his friend's plight.
"Like… what kind of soup?"
"Mushroom."
Poland whines pathetically, and Lithuania has to hide his smirk.
"Gilbert in on the couch right now," he explains. "He's sick too. You know, it's much easier to take care of someone who doesn't lock you out of your own bedroom, Poland. Now if you'll excuse me - "
Poland has the nerve to sigh at this, as if he were the one having to do all the work. As usual. But at least he opens the door.
"Alright, I guess," he says mournfully. "Like, come in. And bring that other jerk, too."
And that's a win, Lithuania allows himself a slight smile. He sets the bowl of soup on the table and tucks Poland back in bed. One battle won, but the war isn't over yet…
He just hopes he'll be strong enough to carry an equally sick and whiny Prussia to the bedroom by himself.
