Canada rolled over and looked at the alarm clock. It read 7:04. He groaned and rolled on his back.
"Why do I always wake up at this time?"
His body went numb as he slowly shut his eyes. Maybe he could go back to sleep...
"Canada."
Canada opened one eye and looked over towards his bedroom door. There stood his little polar bear friend.
"What?"
"The mailman is here for you."
"What?" Canada sat up in bed.
"He's not going to wait for long..."
"I'm coming, just give me a minute."
The polar bear shrugged and walked away as Canada grabbed a t-shirt and headed downstairs.
There was, indeed, a mailman standing in the hallway. His dark eyes wandered the hallway with excitement.
"Can I help you?"
The man kept looking about.
"Hello?"
He turned and looked at Canada.
"Oh, hello sir, I'm looking for..." he looked at his clip board. "Ah, Canada."
"That would be me."
"Shipment of uh... things?" the man looked confused.
"Things?"
"That's what it says, sorry sir."
"How many things?"
"Umm," The man looked behind him as if they were right there. "Like ten boxes." He looked back at Canada.
Canada swallowed and then nodded.
"May I get help carrying them in?"
"Of course sir."
The two men headed outside and started carrying in boxes. Canada told the man to put them in the living room for now and that he'd take care of them later. After they brought all of the boxes in, Canada offered the man a cup of hot chocolate and some cookies before the man left.
Boxes. Ten of them.
"What could be in these?"
"They look weird."
"Thanks Kuma..."
Canada sighed and fell back into the couch. If this was one of America's jokes, it wasn't funny. Some of them were really heavy and the other ones were light.
As Canada's eyelids started to close, the phone rang. A breath escaped his lips before he got up slowly and answered it.
"Hello, this is Canada."
"Hey, dude, what's up?"
"America? Uh, nothing." He eyed the boxes. "Why?"
"Well, I need some help with the World Christmas Party. Can you come over and help?"
His eyes didn't move from the boxes.
"Canada?"
"Oh, yeah, sorry. What now?"
Canada hadn't realized he'd zoned out, until he heard his name.
"Can you come over and help me plan a party?"
"Yeah, how soon do you want me over?"
"Uh, meet up at six? I'll make supper to."
"Ok, see you then."
Canada pulled away and hung up. Maybe he could casually bring up the boxes in conversation somehow...
Snow was falling gently from the light gray sky. Some stuck in Canada's hair as he stood outside America's house, waiting. Canada jumped when the door was thrown open. America stood, out of breath and hunched over some.
"Hey, come in..." He said between breaths.
Canada walked in and brushed some of the snow out of his hair. He stepped back and watched as America shut the door and walked briskly past him and towards the kitchen. Canada followed.
A smell of something burning mixed with wine and something else Canada couldn't quite put his finger on filled the air.
"What are you cooking exactly?"
"Well, I was making a steak dinner with a baked potato and steamed veggies, but the steak didn't come out how I planned and then the potatoes just got burned and the steamed veggies aren't steaming at all!" America hollered with anger.
Canada cringed and then looked at the mess. It seemed as though that America was really trying for something delicious tonight.
"Why don't we just have a pizza?" Canada looked at America with encouragement.
America looked over at Canada with an upset look and then sighed.
"Sure, what kind do you want?"
"I don't care."
America's lips twitched into a small smirk. He left to go get a pizza, leaving Canada to stand in the kitchen alone. He looked over the stove again.
"I bet if the burned smell wasn't there, it would smell really good..."
Canada took off his jacket and laid it on a chair and then pushed up his sleeves. It may have been wasting food, but at least the place would be picked up some. As soon as Canada rinsed off his hands and dried them, America spoke.
"You seriously didn't have to do that dude."
Canada turned and looked at the American.
"It's fine, I felt bad that you went through all that work. So I thought maybe I can pick up. By the way, we should probably put the pizza in the oven. I'm not sure how long you've been standing there..."
America slowly nodded and then jerked out of his daze and quickly pulled out a pizza pan to put the pizza on and throw it into the oven.
They both settled down on the couch next to each other, pen and pad in hand, and wrote out different ideas.
"So again, we have France, yours, Russia, Italy and Romano, and one of the Nordics this year right?"
"Correct."
"Hm..."
Canada had never been to Italy and Romano's house before, nor any of the Nordics, so he could choose between them.
"One, two, three, five, or eight?"
"Huh?"
"Pick one."
America thought and then a grin crossed his lips.
"Hang on," He got up and left the living, leaving Canada, again, confused.
He came back with a box in hand.
"Here, you open this, and whatever number is in here, that's what number I choose."
It was a small box, but not too small for one thing, but big enough for maybe six or seven small things. Canada took it and opened it. Inside, were five gold rings. His eyes lit up with excitement. Even though this was as close as America was going to get to asking him to marry him, it was still amazing.
"Whoa, how much did these cost?"
"Uh..." America trailed off along with his eyes moving away and downward.
"Never mind. These are so gorgeous!"
Canada turned and hugged America. America hugged him back and then pushed him slightly away. He bent down and kissed Canada with a deep, meaningful kiss. They pulled away, a small string of saliva between them.
"I always want to kiss your lips..."
It was a hushed whisper in the half-lit room. A bright blush appeared on the Canadian's cheeks. America returned with another kiss. Canada liked this warmth that he was feeling. He wished it would never go away.
America pulled away again, and then looked down at the notepad.
"So who was number five?"
"Italy and Romano."