It was modern times- somewhere from the 1990s to the 2000s- and Guatemala was quite at ease. She sat on a pure white sofa in her main room, running her fingers through the thick greenish feathers on José's wings and smiling gently as the bird made a series of pleasurable sounds that almost sounded like purring. Music filled the air outside from drums being played and carolers singing in the distance. Countless fireworks exploded, filling the darkened evening sky with colors.
Ah, Christmas time.
The peace was abruptly disrupted by rapid knocking at Guatemala's front door. "¿Eh? I wonder who that could be?" Guatemala murmured. Certainly it wasn't one of her people; they had enough respect to not be so noisy and persistent. That is, unless there was an emergency… Eyes widening, Guatemala halted stroking José and bolted to her front door, keeping a hand on her quetzal's back so he wouldn't fall off of her shoulder. She hurriedly twisted the doorknob, and….
"Yo, brosplosion! Merry early navidad!" Guatemala wasn't sure which to react to first: America's new revision to the nickname "bro," or the fact that he was standing on her porch, 7 days before Christmas Eve, a red Santa hat on his head as he wished her a happy holiday half in her native tongue. She had to admit: she rather enjoyed it when he attempted to speak Spanish…
Guatemala let out a relieved sigh, loosening her shoulders and offering a smile. "Oy, feliz navidad a ti también. I was confused for a moment there… It wasn't my turn to receive the Holy Family yet…"
America tilted his head like a curious puppy while a huge goofy grin was still permanent on his face. "'Receive the Holy Family,' say what now?"
Might as well keep it short and to the point, with his attention span, Guatemala reasoned to herself. "It's tradition here at my home for figures of Mary and Joseph to travel around a neighborhood. After special carols are sung and ritualistic questions are asked, the figures are placed in a nacimiento inside the designated house until the next night," she explained.
"Oooh, sweet… A nacimi-whatever is a Nativity, right? We got them at my place too! That's totally badass!" America gasped. "So like, anyway, I gotta tell you what brings me here on this basically random night."
"Sí, this is true… But por favor, come inside first! It's chilly out there," Guatemala offered, taking a few steps backward and motioning for America to follow her. He did so, roughly patting José on the head before making his way over to a couch (the bird puffed his feathers out in protest and glared after the man, ducking closer to Guatemala's hair and glaring at him from beneath the black locks). Guatemala delicately sat on a sofa across from the one on which America was seated. She barely had time to situate herself when her company started talking again.
"So obviously, it's Christmastime! Tis the season to be jolly and all that shiz. But how can we be jolly without a kickass party?"
Guatemala furrowed her eyebrows slightly, her smile fading. "America… I thought you were forbidden from throwing Christmas parties for 5 years?" Let's just say that at America's last celebration, he and Prussia had been around each other and beer for a little too long, and the results upset basically every boss in the world.
The reminder of this incident only made America let out his signature laugh. "Who said it had to be my kickass party?" He dramatically clapped his gloved hand onto Guatemala's shoulder, his eyes boring into hers from behind his glasses. "Guatemala… Until I'm not banned from throwing Christmas parties, I would like to pass the responsibility onto you."
Silence erupted between the two friends. Guatemala just sat there, shocked into speechlessness, with her mouth hanging slightly open. "I… America, I barely know anyone well enough!" was all she managed to get out.
"So here's your chance to make some new pals! Or at least introduce yourself and maybe get a few people high!" America reasoned, leaning forward enthusiastically. Guatemala bit the inside of her cheek, tilting her head skeptically.
"Well… Christmas parties are common here, and I guess I could invite other nations and their citizens to the one that I throw…" she murmured after a few more seconds of silence.
America threw himself to Guatemala's side so quickly that José ended up falling off of his mistress's shoulder and crashing to the couch cushion below. It took a great deal of flailing and flapping to situate himself comfortably again. "Dude, that's so great! Don't worry about sending invitations, I'll take care of that… I'll use spell-check and your return address and everything so it looks legit!"
As further evidence of his optimism, America leaned over and kissed Guatemala on both cheeks, twice. Usually, this wouldn't have fazed her; it was normal for friends to exchange such gestures in her country. But America always got all flustered at those types of things, and found them more like romantic motions… So Guatemala found herself blushing slightly.
Before she could even recover enough to think up a response, America was on his feet again. "I'll call you later, gal pal! 'Kay?"
"Sí, I'll be waiting for your call," Guatemala replied with a partial shake to her head. America ruffled her hair roughly before striding out into the night.
Days passed, and Christmas Eve fell upon the world. When the time came, guests began to arrive at Guatemala's mansion in her capital. Her own citizens were all the first to arrive, followed by other countries and their people in a random order. America arrived what he called "fashionably late," dressed in a green jacket covered in multicolored buds. Guatemala chuckled into her hand at the sight of him.
"That's an… interesting jacket," she commented. She herself was clothed in a simple black skirt with a silky blue top.
"Ain't it the shiz?" America beamed, holding out his arms and revolving on the spot. "Check it." He pressed a crimson button on the cuff of his sleeve; in an instant, every single little bud on the jacket lit up and created a rainbow of colors.
"That certainly is something," Guatemala agreed with a laugh. America's flashiness never ceased to amaze her. "Well, I'm hungry. Come on, let's go see what's available on the buffet table."
"Ooh, good thing you mentioned that! I gotta go grab a slice of the badass cake I brought before it's all gone!" America exclaimed. He bolted off before Guatemala could even blink. Little did he know that nobody was even considering having a bite of the baking project he had created. It must have been something about the excess amount of food coloring that scared people away…
Guatemala clicked her tongue and shook her head fondly, walking forward with her eyelids closed lightly. Since she wasn't using her sight, however, she ended up bumping into someone. "Oh, lo siento!" she gasped, taking a couple steps backward. She looked up to see a blonde country wearing a red velvet tuxedo and holding a slice of exquisite red velvet cake on a plate to match the outfit. On his head, however, was what would really catch anyone's attention: a black headband with a candy cane-shaped pole protruding from it. There was a hook on the end of the pole, and dangling from said hook was a bushel of a green plant with a few white and red berries in it.
The nation smirked. "Why bonjour, mademoiselle Guatemala! 'Ow fortunate for us to meet under somezing as magical as mistletoe…"
Ah, so this was France she had run into. "Mistletoe? What's… mistletoe?" Guatemala inquired. A brief growl from her stomach made her desire to continue on her way even stronger.
"So you're unaware of zis custom! Onhonhon, well allow me to demonstrate, mon cheri." And to Guatemala's complete surprise and confusion, he grabbed her delicately by the shoulders, closed his lovely blue eyes, puckered his lips, and leaned downward. With a shriek, Guatemala pressed her palms against his chest and pushed herself away.
"Pervierten bruta!" she shouted after him. She didn't stop running until she reached the buffet table on the complete opposite side of the room. The flats she was wearing, however, were not made for running on recently cleaned floors, so she ended up skidding quite a bit. Fortunately, America was there to grab her by the arm before she collided with the punch bowl.
"Someone's a little bit hungry," the spectacled country laughed, his mouth full of neon blue and orange cake. Guatemala scrunched up her nose in disgust when a crumb landed on her shoulder, but couldn't help but smile. America always seemed to have that effect on her…
"Just a bit." Straightening out her slightly disheveled hair, Guatemala calmed herself and reached for a plate. Her eyes scanned over all the foreign dishes on display until they landed on a certain something from her homeland. "Christmas just isn't Christmas without tamales," she whispered more to herself than America. She piled 4 of the food item onto her plate: 2 containing chicken, 2 containing pork.
"Tamales, huh? For me it's more like Christmas isn't Christmas without… a lot of stuff, really. But let's just say it isn't Christmas without lights." America motioned at his illuminated jacket to emphasize his point. He tapped a finger against his chin thoughtfully. "Or Christmas trees… It just ain't the same without Christmas trees…"
"You know, I didn't used to follow that tradition until this one year when Germany came to discuss something… It was the holiday season, and he commented about the lack of Christmas trees, and well… The idea sort of spread," Guatemala remarked. She brought one of the tamales to her mouth and immediately grinned in pleasure as the flavor flooded over her tongue.
"Cool, cool," America responded, venturing to sample a tamale himself. His eyes bulged the moment he took a bite. "Hot damn, no wonder you love these things!" he gasped before swallowing. He finished the tamale so quickly that Guatemala had to hit him on the back to prevent him from choking. "So anyway, why'd you look so spazzed out when you came over here?"
Hm, maybe America would know something about "mistletoe…" Guatemala doubted it, but figured it was still worth a shot. "Oh, that's because-" She was cut off, however, by the loud donging of her grandfather clock. A huge smile melted onto Guatemala's face. "Midnight…" she breathed. She held up one finger to America, her eyes sparkling. "Un minuto, I've got some traditional business to take care of…"
The dark haired nation trotted eagerly up the staircase, a few of her citizens following behind. They approached Guatemala's Nativity scene, set on a lone table in the middle of the grand hall. The thing was almost ancient, but still in good condition. One of the Guatemalans held out a figure of the Christ Child, and allowed Guatemala to gingerly add it to the scene. "Perfect," she breathed. "Not as much ceremony as usual, but…. It will do." She spun around gracefully on her heel, and to the confusion of many party guests, hugged every one of her people that had accompanied her on the little task.
Guatemala made her way back down the stairs, smiling uncontrollably, and went to locate Cuba. He'd showed up to the party, but spent his time standing on the sidelines with America's extremely quiet brother. The party's hostess practically skipped over to him, and to his shock, stood on tiptoes to wrap her arms around his thick neck. "What are you doing?" the Caribbean country asked incredulously.
"Giving you the abrazo de Navidad!" Guatemala giggled, taking a step back. "After situating the Christ Child in the nacimiento, it's custom to go around giving the abrazo de Navidad- Christmas hug- to friends and family. And last time I checked, you're my friend," she explained.
"Oh. Well, sí, you could say that," Cuba muttered, averting his eyes and coughing awkwardly into his fist. Guatemala flashed him one last gleeful look before continuing on her way, completely unaware that a light blush had swept across his face.
Once she embraced her "big brother" Mexico, gave an at first awkward but then rather sweet hug to Spain, and decided not to go near Romano, Guatemala headed off to find America. It wasn't much of a surprise to find him standing outside, interestedly watching fireworks. She was glad to see he'd had enough sense to finally turn his jacket off.
"America, hola," Guatemala called, not hesitating to embrace her companion in a hug. America immediately wrapped his arms around her waist in return without waiting for an explanation. He actually looked sort of disappointed when she pulled away. "So continuing what I was saying before… That France guy said something about 'the custom of mistletoe,' then the bastardo tried to kiss me!"
It was apparent that America found this quite humorous, since he was obviously holding back laughter. "You never heard of mistletoe, huh? Well… When two people stand under it, they have to kiss. It's, like, a rule."A light embarrassed blush appeared on Guatemala's cheeks at her lack of knowledge on the matter.
For a moment, she was confused as to why America's look suddenly softened. She soon, though, received her answer. "Looks like Francey-Pants wanted to share that 'l'amour' crap of his with everyone…" America murmured. He pointed directly above where they stood; tied to the banister of a balcony was the same exact plant that France had on his headband.
Both countries turned their gazes downward simultaneously, resulting in their eyes meeting. They were both blushing at this point- Guatemala more so than America. The latter used a gloved hand to brush a strand of stray hair out of the former's face, proceeding to caress the backs of his fingers against her cheek. The flirtatious gesture, though, didn't make Guatemala feel disgusted or alarmed; in fact, the only thing she felt was eagerness. Yet…
America's eyelids had very leisurely fluttered shut, and he was leaning toward Guatemala's face with his lips puckered ever so slightly. His mouth was a mere inch away from hers… Half an inch… a couple centimeters….."S-so how about those tamales, eh?" Guatemala interrupted, ducking her head and backing toward the door. The sudden disruption was enough to make America open his eyes wide and freeze on the spot. He simply stared at Guatemala with a blank expression. "Lo siento…" she whispered regretfully. Shutting her eyes tight, she dashed back inside.
The remainder of the party wasn't so bad. All of the guests seemed quite content (well, with the exception of one confused American who never came back inside). Guatemala spent the rest of the time chatting with Mexico, trying (and eventually succeeding) to have a comfortable conversation with Spain, plus hanging out with Cuba and Canada. Nobody left early, and when everyone did leave, Guatemala received a huge number of compliments. She just hoped that the party wasn't so successful that she'd be expected to throw another one next year… And that she'd be able to face America again.
