OK I hope you like this chapter! :D It's a longer one...but I didn't have the heart to split it up. But I hope you enjoy!
"Wow, you look amazing." America said in shock, as he had glanced up from his game, when she'd asked him how she looked. Canada blushed as she straightened the skirt of her dress.
Tonight was kind of a big night to her, it was the first 'official' date that Russia had asked her on. The mall meet up that had happened, really had turned into an accidental date and so Canada didn't really count it as official. Thought it was certainly fun. Russia hadn't told her what they were doing exactly, only that it would be outdoors somewhere. So Canada had been forced to make a blind wardrobe decision. She'd found a lavender winter dress, with a knee length skirt that resembled the kind of skirts from the 60s. It had long sleeves, and a V-neck top. She'd thankfully found her favorite tights, clear with sparkles in it (because it reminded her of the first snowfalls), and a pair of matching heels. She'd wanted to wear her new boots that Russia had gotten her, not yet having a good chance to try them out entirely, but they hadn't gone well with her dress at all.
"You think it's too much?" Canada asked, suddenly worried. If her outfit was too much, then she would have to make her hair and makeup plain. She didn't want to overdo such an important occasion.
"Nah, don't worry. You're good. Although," America paused his video game and fully turned to face her, "The real question is what kind of panties are you wearing?"
"What kind of...what?" Canada asked softly, her cheeks turning an even brighter shade of red, "That sort of thing doesn't really matter."
America chuckled, "If you say so, Maddie."
"It...It isn't!" She said back, "It's not that kind of… occasion."
"Yeah, sure it isn't," America replied slyly, "It never starts that way, but you never know what can happen later on." He gave her a knowing smirk and then turned back to his game.
"Can you go check on the turkey for me? I'm gonna go fix my hair." Canada asked, desperate for a change of subject.
"Yeah, sure," He replied, and when he was down the hall about to go downstairs he continued, "Do Dad and Pops know what's going on tonight?"
"Well...not exactly." Canada admitted.
"So. You invited our parent over for dinner and didn't think to tell them you're going on a date tonight? A date, it just so happens, with the guy they kinda disapprove of?"
"Uh, yeah. That about sums it up."
"Wow," America shook his head, "That's gutsy of you, I'm kinda impressed."
"Yeah." Canada said, although her tone was saddened because she hated lying, especially to her parents. But honestly, she planned on telling them later anyway.
Canada made her way into the bathroom and stared at the now dry strands of hair. What am I gonna do with you. She frowned at the slightly frizzy strands and wondered if it would better if she just threw it up. Canada tried a few different styles, and a good time later, she begrudgingly decided on her hair half up in a braid. The rest of the hanging hair she curled slightly. She had to fish around in her cabinets in order to find her single can of hairspray, remembering when she was little and France had tried to get her interested in makeup and hair dos. Her makeup bag consisted of a tiny bit of eyeliner, mascara, a tube of glossy lip gloss, and a couple eye shadows. She decided to just adorn a simple makeup style, some eyeliner and a bit of mascara.
After appraising herself in the mirror, she grabbed her cell phone and clutch and headed downstairs. It smelled really nice in the lower level of her home, the fresh turkey and apple pie she had baked earlier mixed well in the air. It was still a good forty-five minutes before Russia picked her up, so Canada busied herself with setting the table.
When the doorbell went off, she sighed and straightened her skirt needlessly before answering the door. Her parents stood there bundled up in big winter coats and pants.
"Dad! Pappa!" She smiled at both of them, stepping aside so that they could come inside.
"Canada! You look...different. You know you don't have to dress all fancy for us." England was the first to hug his daughter after he'd taken his coat off.
"Yeah, I wanted to look nice tonight."
"I don't see a problem with it, England. You look lovely, Madison." France nodded approvingly, before hugging her as well.
"Go ahead to the dining room, and I'll find America." Canada smiled, and as they left, she found herself checking the time again. Only twenty minutes more, and she'd get to see Russia again. She felt quite silly, like a high school girl, because of the frequency in which she checked the time, and reread the text messages that they had sent each other over the last week.
Resolved to not seem too distracted, Canada went into the kitchen to retrieve the food. America was there, and she raised an eyebrow at the missing piece in the pie. He gave her a mischievous grin in reply, before grabbing the steamed green beans and following Canada (who had the turkey in a steaming platter) into the dining room.
They were all seated at the table, their plates filled to varying degrees. Canada was careful not to eat anything, hoping to not spoil her appetite for her night out. She did her part, for the twenty minutes, smiling and chatting. It was sincere, she sensed, the happiness she felt with her family so much of the time. Yes, everyone liked to sway her decisions this way and that, and they definitely fought a lot, but in the end they really did love each other. Just like a family should love one another, but we're really missing a big trust factor. At least on my part.
Silently, she wondered why England and France were so protective of her, remembering the day she'd finally got bothered enough to ask America about it. He'd shrugged and simply said, "It's because you're really innocent. And innocence is becoming so much rarer now." Her brother had gotten a weird look in his eyes, but it had disappeared and he returned to yelling at little kids on his Call of Duty game.
The doorbell rang for the second time that evening, startling her from her memories.
"I'll get it!" She smiled brightly, and went to the door. The door swung open and Russia was standing there, his scarf tied around his neck and his coat buttoned up. If they hadn't been standing in her doorway, she would have sworn that they were at a world meeting, "H...hi Russia."
Her greeting was quiet, the reason either was so that her parents wouldn't hear or that her heart was skipping around so much that the only way to hold it in was to practically whisper. His purple eyes appraised her, a nod and a small accompanied it. A gloved hand reached out, brushing her chin and he kissed her gently.
"You look lovely tonight, little flower."
"Who's at the door?" Canada looked behind her, and froze when she saw England there. His gaze went between the Russia's hand (which was still grasping her chin) and her rosy cheeks. His thick eyebrows furrowed together, and a frown slowly appeared.
"Dad…"
"What is he doing here?" England demanded, his voice laced with a hint of hatred.
"I invited Russia over…." She replied quietly, her blush going from rosy pink to a deep red.
England looked him over, and gave Russia a wary expression. Canada really wanted to tell him that judging someone based on passed intimidations was rather silly, and childlike. She held her breath as England gave a curt nod and did a 180, going back to the dining room. No doubt to tell everyone else who was here.
"You might as well come in, I just gotta clean my spot at the table." Canada said.
"You have already eaten?" Russia asked, looking at her curiously.
"No, I just sat with the family while they ate." Canada explained, waving a dismissive hand in Russia's general direction.
Canada walked into the dining room finding a relative peace between everyone. England, and she probably should have suspected him to be the most stubborn, was seated and intently staring at his plate.
"Dad…." She started again, he didn't respond. She shrugged, and started clearing her spot when she looked up at the sound of a slap. England was touching his cheek in surprise, as France was settling back down.
"How can you be so stubborn? Can you not see that she is in love?" France demanded of his husband, "All her years of going solo could be coming to a close, and you're trying to ruin it for her?"
"I… You're right, I am sorry Canada. You know how I feel about him, but I shouldn't be poking my head where it doesn't belong," England paused, as if considering saying his next confession or not, "To be honest, sometimes I forget you're there, and I know that's terrible parenting, but it just happens."
"I know." Canada whispered, "All I ask is to give me some room when it comes to my own life choices." She gave him a smile.
"Yes, I suppose you deserve it." England nodded, smiling back. She put her dishes down and rounded the table, so that she could pull her parents into a group hug.
"Thank you guys, that means a lot to me. After all, I'm not your little girl anymore."
"Yes, and sometimes that scares me." England muttered.
"Canada, we will always love you no matter what." France assured her.
"I knew there was a reason you guys were the best parents ever." Canada couldn't help the excited tone in her voice as she gathered her little pile and went into the kitchen.
"But you know, if he ever lets anything happen to you…." England started.
"Dude, calm down," She heard America retort to the elder, "I'll totally deal with it if that happens. From what I've seen, that's not likely to happen."
Canada gave Russia a smile as she passed him, plopping the dishes on the counter in no specific area, and then grabbing her white parka that was on another area of countertop.
"You are ready to go now?"
"Yeah, let's get going." Canada wanted to skip to the car, but she smartly admitted that there was lots of icy patches covering the sidewalk.
"You seem to be in a happy mood?" Russia inquired, as they climbed into the car.
"I was able to resolve something that has been bothering me. It feels nice, to be let alone to make my own wrong and right decisions." She replied lightly, buckling in and listening to the classical music that streamed out of the radio speakers. Tonight was off to a great start, and it had only just begun.
They arrived quickly at the restaurant, having pretty good luck with stop lights and traffic. They had pulled into what seemed like a quick service establishment, and Canada raised an eyebrow at Russia. It was a small building, with open windows and a patio area that was closed off for the winter. Not that she minded where they ate, and if it saved Russia a bit of money that was a good thing.
"I heard they have good food here, plus it is close to the surprise for later on." Russia explained to her unasked question.
"I like it, it's cute." She unbuckled and climbed out of the car, her boots crunching in the snow packed parking lot.
There was a chilly wind blowing here, and with no trees in sight to act as a wind barrier, it was able to roll into unsuspecting couples. Canada pulled her parka closed took Russia's outstretched hand. There was not more than three other cars in the parking lot, making it easy to get a spot near the front doors.
"What can I get for ya today?" The woman at the counter asked, giving them a customer service worthy smile. Russia looked at Canada, gesturing for her to go first.
"Um, may I please have a chicken salad?" Canada asked quietly, unconsciously looking at Russia for his approval.
"I will be having that as well." Russia paid for their meal and they stepped to the side to wait for their food.
"So, how are your sisters doing?" Canada looked to her date and gave him a soft smile.
"They are fine. Belarus believes you are a witch, but that is easy for me to ignore them."
"Does she still hate me?" Canada took the tray of salads, with the cups resting beside them, and they made their way to the corner where a fire was lit in a stone fireplace, stained brown.
"Hate is a strong word. I am not sure I would use that," Russia paused, as he pulled the metal chair out for Canada. She blushed at this little action and softly thanked him before he continued, "She has strong feelings towards you. Sooner or later she will realize that it is of no use fighting this."
"A..And what is...this?" Canada asked the question without even thinking. She didn't make to take it back, as she would certainly have in the past, and instead followed what America would do: lean in with curiosity alight in her eyes.
"You are mine, da?" Russia asked back, and she nodded, "And I am yours."
Canada opened the salad, neglecting the packaged dressing and instead taking a bite of the grilled chicken that was laid delicately across the top. It was pretty good, for a place like this. When she'd swallowed her bite, she looked at Russia, with her blue eyes matching his. He looked like he wanted to say something more, so she simply nodded and waited patiently for him to say it.
"I know that we've known of each other for a long time, and only recently have we really taken time to learn about each other, but I already have many strong emotions for you."
"Like what?" Canada placed a hand on his encouraging him. She wanted to hear him say it out loud. It was like a safety blanket, if he said it then she too could confess what she had become certain of. It had come to her a few days ago, as she had been daydreaming in her bed. She loved this man, and the realization had shocked her and of course she was skeptical at first. It was so silly to fall in love so easy, but she couldn't deny it for long. Being Canada, of course, she could never admit it first, or get her hopes up. Because being hurt like that was a hard thing for her to risk.
"I love you, my winter flower." Russia said quietly, yet his tone was so sure of his words. She smiled at him, holding back her excited squeal, many years of being quite had taught her to reign in her reactions.
"Russia, that's. Thank you." She responded, taking a short breath and then responded, "I love you too."
"You do?" He seemed genuinely surprised by her reciprocating the feeling.
"I wouldn't lie to you, silly." Canada smiled.
Russia seemed pleased like this, and Canada imagined that his inner self was jumping with excitement. Regardless if this is what was happening inside his head, it was her best guess since it was always a little difficult to read his eyes. They finished their dinner, mostly silent, yet the silence was good. Like a little school girl, Canada kept sneaking looks at him and then she would hurriedly blush and look at her food when he caught her. This would cause him to give an amused chuckle. The silence stretched on, the two seemed to be having a conversation with just their eyes and something about it just seemed right.
"Are we ready to get to the surprise?" Russia asked, and Canada nodded. They stood from their table, and cleared their tray at the trash can by the exit. Outside, the wind had died down and the sky had darkened, the sun getting its last rays in before the night fell upon the world.
"Where are we going?" Canada inquired when they did not make their way back to Russia's car. She noted that he was carrying a duffle bag and wondered how long he had been carrying that.
"On a little hike, we will not go too far. Just a little past the tree line." Russia told her reassuringly, taking her hand and they made their way to a near invisible path that wandered into the snow covered forest. The terrain couldn't make up its mind whether to be flat or hilly, and adding in the growing dark, the hiking was slightly more difficulty. At one point, when the sun's light no longer filtered through the trunks of the trees, Russia dug out a lamp that was really bright, and held it in front (having swung the duffle bag onto his back so they could continue holding hands).
The path ahead curved to the right, disappearing into a thicker part of the woods, which Russia ignored as he continued straight. Canada followed him and was so concentrated on taking careful steps along the rugged terrain that she ran into Russia when he stopped. She let out a small gasp of surprise, before catching herself and leaning around him to see where they had stopped. It was a lake, frozen over and suspiciously clear of snow. The trees lining the lake had no say in letting the rays of the moon in, and the light sparkled on the foggy ice.
"Wow. This is beautiful." Canada breathed, her head turning up to the starry night, which was clear of any clouds and very pretty.
"I cleared it earlier, just for you. Look there" Russia gently turned her chin in the other direction, where she gasped and saw a piece of waving color in the sky.
"Is that the Northern Lights?" She drew her eyes away for a moment, waiting for confirmation. Of course, she'd seen the lights before, but every time she saw them swimming among the stars, she was always amazed by the raw beauty of it.
"Yes, I believe so." Russia confirmed, before setting the lantern down in a pile of snow.
He began to dig around in his duffle bag, producing a silver and black thermos, a blanket and two pairs of skates. Canada grinned excitedly as she took the pair he offered her, they were the usual white but they had red laces and a maple leaf had been painted on the side.
"I hope you like them." Russia gave her a small smile as she stared at them.
"I love them, thank you Russia, but how did you get them to put the maple leaf on it?"
"I have my ways," he answered mischievously. He began unlacing his boots, sitting in the snow without a care to his pants that would surely get wet because of this.
Canada then remembered that she had something for him as well. Her hand reached into her pocket, digging around for her small gift. Her fingers brushed the surface of the box it was resting in. She brought it out.
"Hey, Russia? I… I have something for you." Canada handed him the little white box that was thin and rectangular.
"What is it?" Russia inquired, taking the box in his gloved hand.
"It's a gift." Canada flushed, and waited nervously as he detached the letter from the top and read it. She remembered when she'd written it, and how she'd wanted to give Russia something for all the kindness he'd given her. Her boots, the dress, protecting her from Belarus, the cocoa, and now these ice skates, all these things he'd given her. And she felt like she needed to do something in return, he deserved it more than her, she knew this well. Canada knew what the letter would say, remembering her writing it just the other day.
Russia,
I wanted to thank you for all that you've done for me lately. I wanted to get you something, but I had the strangest time trying to think of what you might want. So I finally came to this. I really hope you like it and realize that I won't leave you like everyone did in your past. I understand what it's like to be lonely and I wouldn't wish it on anyone, especially you.
~Your Winter Flower, Canada.
She watched his eyes scan the letter, and despite the chilled air, she began to sweat a little in worry. There was, of course, no reason to worry, he had just told her he loved her of course, but the worry was almost instinctual. He reached the end of the short letter, his fingers pulling the piece of wood that was left in the box. It was flat, small piece, with a gray ribbon threaded through a hole on the top. The edges, Canada remembered, had been the hardest part, getting them to singe just right. Woodworking wasn't necessarily her best skill, but she thought it had turned out pretty well. Before she'd burned the words of the poem onto the wood, she'd painted a gray sunflower as the backdrop. Canada bit her lip as he looked to the words she'd put on there, and she read them in her mind as he did.
The days all turn cold
The times that we're apart
The darkness burns so bold
That my mind begins to part
Away from frail reality
And to the dreams of day
My feelings, a frail duality
Of love or cautious way.
You've been my sole distraction
Of this, I do confess
My words, a grasp at action
My mind a total mess.
If the need should then arise,
Know that I am there,
To help sort through the mix of lies
For I do, I really care.
Russia looked up at the end of his poem, his eyes training on her. She looked back, blushing a little. He didn't say anything, and she shifted on her feet. Her fingers played with the blonde hair that had fallen over her shoulder. She put the skates on as he finished, and she was surprised to find that they fit perfectly.
"I know it's not much, and I'm not really good with the wood burner, but I thought that you would like it." Canada told him softly.
"It is very special, thank you Canada." Russia pulled her into a hug, and tucked the poem away, "I will be cherishing it. Now we skate, da?"
"I'm glad you like it!" Canada couldn't help but squeal a little with happiness, and she took Russia's outstretched hand and they made their way onto the lake.
Skating was like riding a bike, you just needed a bit of a warm up to get going again. After a few shaky moments, the two were off on the ice, skating around the edge of the lake. Canada held Russia's arm, at some point a pocket radio was turned on in Russia's pocket. It was surprisingly comforting to make lazy circles with your date.
Then an idea came to her. Canada let go of Russia for a few moments, skating quickly ahead then turning sharply so that she twirled around, her skirt splaying out as she did so. When she was coming out of the spiral, Russia grabbed her hand in a fluid motion, spun her so she faced forward and they continued on their way. Canada laughed as she regained her sense of motion, only to be thrown into a sudden turn as the made a figure eight.
"This is so much fun, Russia!" She smiled excitedly at him. It had been too long since she'd been able to go skating in a secluded area, letting her do whatever she wished. They slowed as a sweet violin song sounded, and they slowly danced in the middle of the lake. The stars shone down, lighting up Russia's purple eyes and Canada couldn't help but stare at them. They sparkled with what Canada had come to know as happiness.
Sighing contently, she leaned her head onto his chest as the danced, listening to his heart race along. At some point, they had brought the blanket out on the ice. Canada had her head on Russia's coat, his fingers softly stroking her hair, their eyes turned upward as they watched the stars together.