"Relax. I promise you, he isn't going to upset me… That was an accident! Really, I can't see why you dislike him so much. (After all, you're practically the same person.)… No, I didn't mean that. You're completely different… Of course I'm not angry at you. Just – just lay off him, alright… Yes, I'll pick some up on the way home… Goodbye, Poland."

Lithuania snapped his phone shut. With a half-amused, half-annoyed glare, he slipped it into his jacket pocket. 'Honestly, he doesn't need to worry about me. I've known America for a long time, and I can't imagine him doing anything worth worrying about, even if he is a bit boisterous. It'll be nice to see him, though. It seems as though it's been ages.'

He raised his hand to knock, backing away hurriedly when the door began to open. 'That said, there's no reason to let him knock me down.'

"Lithuania!" chirped his host. "You're early! I haven't even gotten the cookies in the oven."

"You're baking?"

"Oh, yeah. I found this great new premade batter! You just put it on the sheet and pop it in the oven. It almost never burns. Come on, I'll show you!" He darted back into the apartment, leaving Lithuania to restrain a laugh as he removed his coat and followed.

'I've missed this kind of frivolity. Poland's far too concerned these days to let himself relax. There are times when it's distinctly advantageous to have friends who don't follow your life too closely.'

"I'll just hang up my coat!" he called, raising his voice as much as possible. 'Hope he heard me.' "Is there anything in particular you wanted to do today?"

America reappeared a moment later with a tube covered with instructions.

"Read this," he said, thrusting it at his guest. As Lithuania perused the (unsettlingly unrecognizable) ingredients, he continued, "I wasn't thinking of anything in particular. If you wanted, we could go see the construction a few blocks down, or check out this great burger place around the corner. I've got movies, too. Good ones! Italy sent me one of his horror movies, and I'm definitely going to get through it this time… Not that I didn't last time, of course. I mean, heroes don't get scared of a little blood and gore. Hey, are you alright?"

"Oh… um, fine." 'Where did that come from?' He absentmindedly raised a finger to his eye, realizing it was wet. 'I can't be crying. It must be allergies or something, though I can't imagine what would be blooming around here.' He felt a sudden twinge of annoyance. 'This was supposed to be my day off from hovering.'

"Something in the air, I think," he added aloud. "No cause for concern."

"Of course, of course." The reply came at an oddly normal volume, but before Lithuania could process it, America was rummaging through an impressive case of DVDs next to a 55" flat-screen television.

"I know it's in here somewhere… Oh, I love this movie! It's hilarious. (Don't tell England I said that, though. He loves it when I like his movies.) Still, not what I'm looking for… Oh, there's that movie you loaned me. I'll watch it soon, I swear! Now, where's that movie… Where is it, where is it – ah, there! You're going to love this movie. If, that is, you aren't too scared… You start watching, and I'll get some popcorn and the cookies."

Lithuania decided to let the almost-serious moment slide, settling into America's comfortable sofa. 'He won't be back until most of the build-up is over. I've got a good twenty minutes alone.'

He realized with something of a start that he'd missed being left alone almost as much as he missed subtext-free conversation. There was something incredibly attractive in the idea that America wouldn't be doubling back to check in on him, or calling a friend to make sure everything was alright. 'It's strange: I'm not the one who does crazy things like that, but I'm the one who's always being watched… Well, there was that thing with the cigars, but I was still at Russia's house then. It doesn't really count. I still can't believe I did that… Where's America with those snacks? Oh, right, we're still only a couple of minutes in.'

He rearranged himself on the couch, gawky arms awkwardly encircling one of the pillows. 'There's never enough room on these things.'

He wasn't looking at the screen, primarily because he'd seen one of Italy's movies, and one was enough. However, it didn't surprise him in the slightest when he heard a small squeak after the first loud crash. 'At least he's watching the movie instead of me.'

He was considerably less reassured when America reappeared with the food and an uncharacteristically grim expression.

"Hi," he said with none of his usual cheer.

"… Hi. Is there something wrong?"

"No, not at all. Try one of the cookies. They're great."

He flashed back on the ingredients' list. "I'd rather not."

"Have it your way." He grabbed one of the still-steaming lumps of dough and began to eat. They both faced the screen, but neither was really watching the movie for surreptitious glances at the other.

"Lithuania?"

'Ah, the other shoe drops.' "Yes?"

"Do you mind if I ask you something?"

"Not at all."

"Why are you staring at me?"

For a moment, he sincerely wished that he was back in Russia's house. 'Of course, you're making it up. You're so used to Poland that you're starting to see worried friends everywhere.' "No reason." He chuckled unconvincingly. "Honestly, I thought you were staring at me."

"Because I'm concerned for you?"

"Something like – how did you know that?"

"Well, I wanted to make sure I didn't do anything, you know, wrong while you were visiting, so I called Poland and – "

"You called Poland? I came here to get away from Poland and his constant concern!" He rose to his feet, balling his hands into fists.

"Really? He doesn't strike me as the type."

"He's becoming the type! That's the whole problem! Someone other than me tells him something, and all of a sudden he can't stop worrying, and anything I say just makes him think I'm covering!"

"Is this about the cigar thing?"

"How did you know about that?!"

"Poland told me."

"Well – well, that makes sense!" He could feel his frustration faltering in the awareness that he wasn't arguing with someone directly involved. "Why is he always calling people about me without asking?"

"Have you asked him?"

"That's – that's – of course I have!" 'I haven't, and that's not really a terrible suggestion.' He pinched his forehead. "Look, maybe I'll just pass on the movie for now. I'll visit again soon, though. I promise."

"'Kay. Sure." He still looked more confused than irritated or upset.

'He'll leave the movie on until I've left, maybe give me a cookie on my way out.' Lithuania quickly donned his coat again. 'I should really be thinking about how to get Poland to listen to me. I shouldn't have been distracting myself like this, and – '

"Lithuania?"

"Yes?" He turned around politely, almost at the door.

"Sorry for, um, bothering you."

"Oh. Thanks. It's not a big deal."

"… Alright."

As he left to catch a taxi, he found himself undoing and redoing the top button of his shirt. Tentatively, he loosened his tie. It didn't seem to help, though. Somehow, he still felt suffocated.