2

Some time later, Canada sits on the bed and continues to stare out the nearby window. There's no bars on it yet, and the "long way down" wouldn't be too much of a bother assuming he doesn't fall. It's the guards making their rounds that he's worried about, since they literally walk around the house.

He's not willing to give up on escape yet, but his stomach growl does remind him that food would be a nice thing. Maybe he can wait until he's fed, assuming he can trust in Prussia to give him something edible. If he keeps his strength up, then he can have an easier time getting out of this predicament, right?

Right…

He sighs and stays in his position on the edge of the bed, looking around the room. It's not too bad of a bedroom. A little sparse. A bed. A dresser. A nightstand. A richly decorated carpet designed with different shades of blues and greens. The Prussian flag framed on one wall makes him wonder if this is actually Prussia's room. Why would they put him here, then? If Prussia is going to stay here and guard him, then where is the albino nation sleeping?

Whatever.

There's not much on the one long dresser, except the large mirror and some items of value at the top of the dresser. Otherwise it's clean. Dusted and everything. So apparently Prussia likes to keep his place super clean. One thing Canada wishes he could manage to do at his own house; he's never been that much of a neatfreak.

The door opening snaps his thoughts away from his home, and he turns a glare to the albino nation. Who comes in still wearing his full uniform but now he's carrying two plates. Oh, it smells good too. Why does it have to smell good? It's far too tempting. Is it some sort of trap? Some ploy?

"Here," Prussia says as he steps over and hands one of the plates out. "You're lucky. I can't believe I had some sausages and potatoes stashed away. Thank past me."

Taking the plate, Canada looks up at him. "And I guess I'm supposed to just trust you and eat this?"

"Up to you."

The nonchalant way that Prussia shrugs and finds a wall to lean against makes Canada rethink his suspicion. The albino digs into his own food without a second thought, and honestly, it doesn't look all that different from what he's handed Canada. So, maybe it's safe?

He rolls his eyes. Now he's just being paranoid. But this nice attitude is throwing him off. All those warnings, and this is what Prussia is like? There has to be some catch. Something. Somewhere. Somehow.

His stomach growls and he knows he might as well quit holding off. So he takes a bite of the sausage and hums. It's fresh. Well, as fresh as he's had since he began his military mission out here. What Prussia said about being lucky is clearly no understatement.

Still, it's not how he'd prefer to have his sausages. "Not sweet enough."

He hears the fork fall against a plate and looks up to meet the red-eyed glare, though Prussia hasn't moved from his roost against the wall. "Maybe I won't bring you food then. I'll just take that back and let you starve."

With a flinch, Canada switches his attention back to the food in front of him. He's not going to apologize, but maybe he should keep his mouth shut and accept the goodness he's being offered. The food is pretty good. Not his ideal, but it's not bad or anything.

And there are people starving. In this country no less. Prussia has citizens starving in his country and he's handing out rare meat like this to a prisoner.

Why?

"What were you doing when they caught you anyway?"

Oh. Here it comes.

Without looking up, Canada responds as calmly as he can. "I fail to see why I should tell you that."

"Tch," Prussia scoffs. "Giving me some information now would probably be better for you in the long run."

He shivers at the insinuation, but stands his ground. "Doesn't mean I'll give in at all."

"Doesn't matter," Prussia says as he takes another bite of food like this is all some normal everyday conversation for him. "I still have to try. Or else West might get on my case about it."

"Who's West?"

"That should be obvious, unless you're in this war without any clue of who we are. Oh." Fingers snap and Canada looks up to meet Prussia's grin. "You're one of Arthur's little conquests, aren't you? Then maybe you don't know much of anything after all."

"Watch it. I know plenty without England's help."

The bark of laughter is entirely unexpected, so Canada widens his eyes as Prussia sets his plate down and practically rolls in amusement. Pale hands slap at his thighs and he even has to take a moment to breathe and wipe his eyes clear.

In that moment, though, Prussia takes off his hat and Canada gets his first real look at the silvery white hair underneath. It's wild and dances in every direction. Even though it's been under a military hat for so long, it still pokes up and insists on going everywhere. Like its hiding a wild and free spirit.

He shakes his head. Now he's acting weird. This man is his enemy. An enemy nation. He's trying to get friendly with him. That's the whole point of this act.

Don't fall for his act, Canada , he berates himself, takes a breath to collect his thoughts, and then faces Prussia for when the nation finally stops his laughing fit.

"Yeah, that's rich," Prussia states between his remaining chuckles. "Did you really just threaten me?"

Narrowing his eyes, Canada stuffs a forkful of food into his mouth and grumbles. "I bet I could beat you in a fair fight."

Another laughing fit breaks free, but this time Prussia leaves his plate at the dresser and returns to his place by the wall. "I seriously doubt that. I came into this world fighting, you know. No common former colony could possibly be a match for my awesomeness."

Canada practically throws the fork on his plate as he glares over at the albino nation. "You want to test that?"

A grin is his only response. A sick, twisted grin that makes his skin crawl and his blood rush at the same time. The gleam in those red eyes actually makes him shiver. Prussia probably isn't kidding about enjoying his fights. The other nations call him a monster for a reason.

What if this is a taste of that monster? This look sizing him up like a predator studying his prey. It's nerve wracking. Canada stands his ground, but it's harder than he ever expected it to be. He's not backing down. He won't be pushed around.

Eventually, the sardonic grin dies and is replaced by a sigh. "There's no chance of a fair fight here. We'll have to meet on a battlefield sometime. That would be more fun anyway."

"You won't find me out there," Canada huffs. "I don't do battlefields."

"Why the hell not?"

The snap is harsh but Canada simply shrugs his shoulders. "I do better with more covert stuff. Things like slipping away when it's necessary."

"So you're always spying on people?" Prussia asks. "Instead of actually getting into the fun stuff?"

"You're crazy. War isn't fun. None of it is. Ever."

"Bah, you're the crazy one. The rush of a good battle is amazing."

No, what's amazing is your lust for it, apparently. And not amazing in a good way.

Prussia clicks his tongue between his teeth and continues his train of thought. "Though it's not as fun now as it used to be so of course you wouldn't understand."

Canada rolls his eyes. "Oh, you're getting sentimental on me now?"

Before he knows it, Prussia is in front of him. Red eyes seething as they glare. Such a creepy look in such a deathly pale face, but there's also something that makes his breath hitch. Probably just because he's too close.

Personal space is a thing and this albino nation apparently likes the idea of trying to frazzle him by breaking those little personal bubbles. He's also considerably pissed right now. For some reason. He can feel the anger as if it's an aura all on its own. And when Prussia snatches the empty plate from his hand, the edges scratch his palms, making him wince.

When the other nation speaks at last, his voice is low and soft, but hard, harsh, cutting with each word. "I wouldn't piss me off if I were you."

He flinches back despite himself. "What are you planning on doing?"

Here it comes. The torture that everyone warned him of. This is it. This is the monster they spoke of. The one he's supposed to be wary of. Oh, it's hard to stand his ground now that he's so sure he's about to face something terrible.

Nothing happens, though. To his utmost surprise, Prussia pulls back and smirks instead. A dark smirk, eyes flashing as if they've done their duty already.

"Nothing," Prussia purrs. "Yet."

When the nation pulls away and makes for the door, Canada licks his lips and takes a breath to call on his earlier confidence. "I'm not going to talk so do your worst."

Red eyes glance back to pierce him, but he turns away just as fast. "I don't really care about all that, just warning you not to piss me off. I'm annoyed enough at having to be here."

The man mutters as he takes both empty plates and leaves the room, shutting the door and locking it from the outside. Canada sighs in relief once he's gone, running a hand through his hair and mouthing a curse. This is a lot harder than he thought. Nothing's happened, though. Not yet at least.

It's the "yet" that has him worried the most.

~!~

Some days later, Prussia is bored as fuck. He's starting to feel cooped up in his own home. Sure, they don't fuss too much when he leaves to check the shops and chat with his citizens, but whenever he's back they do give him a strong reprimand about watching his prisoner. It's supposed to be his job to get information out of the Canadian nation, and any method is encouraged.

But can he do it?

He just hasn't felt like it lately, that's all. There's no reason he's holding back or putting it off. He's bored as hell, but he's not feeling the mood to torture right now. Probably better to keep with the good guy act. Because it's definitely an act. Definitely.

...nice having someone else to talk to, though.

With a sigh, he opens his own front door to meet the guards there. They glare at him. Well, that's new. What's got them pissed off?

"Oh, it's you," one of them says and then faces forward again.

The other meets his glare and doesn't drop it, so Prussia eventually gives up and scowls. "I do believe I'm of higher rank than you two, so some respect is expected, you know. I'm not like the others. I won't send you off for upsetting me, but -"

"Our orders aren't from you," says the one facing him. "You're here to gather information from our prisoner. We're here to guard the perimeters. That's all."

Prussia rolls his eyes. "Fine. Whatever. What's got you two in such dour moods?"

The first guard jerks his rifle off in one direction, and before looking in said direction, Prussia takes the moment to read the man's name tag. Hahn. And the other is Keller. Never know when recognizing their names will come in handy. Besides, these are his citizens even if they don't care too much for him right now thanks to propaganda.

Looking out into the city streets, he sees someone passing out beer bottles. Holy shit. Is there a ration card for those? He needs to grab some. He didn't even realize there was someone out here that could pass them out.

Spinning to face Keller, eyes wide in excitement despite the earlier disrespect, he slides the hat around on his head and grins. "Want me to go get us some beer then?"

Keller's blue eyes grow wide, then he nods. Several times. Ah hah. The quickest way to get on the good side of a German is to offer to get them beer. So he turns to the other one, Hahn, who also has eerie blue eyes, and ends up taking a handful of ration stamps.

"As much as you can carry, sir. We've been stocking up for the best lager."

Prussia smirks and nods. "Got it. It's about time things stopped being so damn boring around here."

With that, he escapes his own house and rushes to where the crowd of Germans are passing out beer among each other. It's a glorious sight to see so many happy faces in a town usually so fearful and dreary. He's overheard many say they aren't really fans of the nazi stuff, but no one can say that too loud these days without risking retribution. Still, these are his people, and it's so nice to enjoy something with them.

Even if it's as simple as beer. He doesn't even care what kind it is. The seller promises it to be Berlin draft, but Prussia won't know for sure until he tastes it himself.

Eventually, he pulls out of the crowd, hands out beer to the guards, even the ones that stalk around the house at all times. Then he's back inside and holding two bottles. Oh, it's going to be an awesome day. He can't wait to get started and get as shit faced as he possibly can because this feeling of being under house arrest is such bullshit.

He makes it to the den before he stops and looks back to where the stairs are, to where his bedroom is, to where a certain someone else is sitting there wasting the days away probably bored out of his mind, too. A thought occurs to him and he smiles and turns his feet to walk toward the prisoner. Well, he does have two bottles. And it's always better to drink with someone else instead of drowning in the alcohol alone.

Besides, Canada's kind of fun to talk to.

So he walks up the stairs and opens the door to his bedroom, only to find the captured nation on his knees, digging in his closet. Why his closet? Is the guy still looking for some magic way out of here? Hah. Probably just bored.

He stands behind Canada, letting the bottles click against each other as he walks, and says, "You know, I don't think there's monsters hiding in my closet anymore so you should be safe."

The yelp he gets in response is too cute, and he only grins wider as the nation turns around and raises an eyebrow. "What is that?"

"Oh these?" He says, holding up the beer bottles. "The guards outside had some extra rations so I figured, why not? Why don't you just go ahead and stop whatever it is you were doing down there."

"I still don't know if I should trust you."

Prussia grins and holds one bottle out to him. "You shouldn't. But it's up to you."

He's just being honest. Hell, if he were in Canada's position, he sure as hell wouldn't trust himself. That's just what it's like being a prisoner. Funny that in this case Prussia's actually trying to be genuine. He's bored.

What else is he going to do?

After another heartbeat of a moment goes by, Canada sighs, stands up and takes the beer. Prussia watches as the other nation moves over to the nightstand and uses the edge of the furniture there to pop the bottle cap off. It's kind of hot.

No, wait, bad thought, he reminds himself.

With a shake of the head, he adjusts his hat so that it's covering one eye, which is much more comfortable, honestly. Then he takes a glance in the closet before turning around, closing the closet doors, and leaning back against them. For his own bottle-opening trick, he leans down to pop it against the silver edge of his boot. He's done this trick before, but it doesn't always work out like it's supposed to and West laughs at him for it. But this time, everything goes according to plan so he looks nice and cool in front of the younger nation.

Too bad Canada doesn't seem all that impressed as he takes a swig of his own beer and then proceeds to cough. Prussia holds back his laugh. He's getting enough glares. It would be kind of nice to see the man smile.

No, stop that. He's your prisoner. Prisoner. Who is supposed to be tortured by you for information. Stop forgetting that.

"You've been surprisingly quiet up here," he says instead.

"Don't really have much of a choice, do I? Act out and who knows where I'll be sent, right?" Canada glances at him, and Prussia tenses against his will. "I feel like you're in the same situation."

Oh, damn. He's not, but he's damn close and it pisses him off that Canada's able to read that much of what's going on here. So he grits his teeth and glares before drowning himself in a couple gulps of beer. The alcohol soothes his temper because the guy outside wasn't lying after all. It really is from Berlin. Ah, the heart of his country. It feels wonderful.

While he enjoys the beer, Canada seems to be having trouble, as he coughs again and manages to choke out. "Oh man, that's actually pretty strong."

It sends pride flowing through Prussia to hear those words, even if it's not beer he's specifically made himself. "Never had real beer before, have you?"

"Apparently not. My brother always used to say that -"

The man cuts off and Prussia tilts his head, feeling the curiosity burn through him as hot as the alcohol. "Your brother said what now?"

There's a quiet mumble, and he manages to lean forward and catch the words. Reading lips is helpful, too. And he's thankful to Arthur for making sure his English didn't suck, and to Francis for teaching him enough French to get by. It doesn't matter what this little conquest-of-the-British-Empire mutters under his breath.

Prussia will figure it out.

"You're a lightweight?" He snorts then slaps his thighs as a real laugh falls out. "Seriously? So is one beer going to be enough to get you drunk?"

If it's true, then he has to see it. He loves seeing what people act like when they're drunk. Lots of people who aren't normally fun turn into party animals and it's glorious. Lizzy can get a little rough and abusive in certain phases of her drunkenness, but she's fun all the rest of the time. West slurs his words and stumbles around and starts ranting about how no one else around him knows how to keep things organized.

Toni and Francis like to slowly lose clothes throughout a long night of drinking and dancing, just like him. That's why they work so well together when they're out for a good time.

He frowns at the thought. Well, that's been a while, with all this war stuff going on. With how they totally destroyed France. He winces at the memory, of seeing his friend beaten and crying for his people, of not caring at the time because he was on top of the world. Oh, he was drunk then, drunk on the rush of power, drunk on the words of the latest German leader.

If only he could go back in time and warn Ludwig earlier. If only he could stop the monster from taking over. Stop all this before it went too far.

"It's not like that!" Canada snaps, breaking Prussia from his inner torture of regret enough to get a smile out of him. "At least I don't think so…"

"I guess we'll find out soon enough," Prussia says, grinning from ear to ear as he waves the beer bottle toward the captured nation. "Maybe you'll spill all your secrets for 'll make my life easier by far."

"No way. I wouldn't give in all because of getting a little drunk."

"We'll see," Prussia says with a lazy smirk. "What kind of drunk are you anyway?"

The blush looks way too cute on that pouty face. "I'd rather not say."

"Well keep drinking and I might get the chance to see it firsthand."

Canada huffs in response, and for a moment Prussia worries that the other nation is going to put the alcohol to the side. To his delight, the man keeps drinking. He's no longer coughing, either, which means he's probably getting a little buzzed as he gets used to the flavor and the amount of alcohol he's chugging at once there.

Prussia takes his own little moment to enjoy the taste of the beer flowing down into the center of his being. It's so nice how it warms everything up, especially since it's starting to get cold outside. He can't believe he got a hold of this today. It's almost a miracle. With all the strict rules on drinking lately, he just can't believe he could be so lucky.

And the guards were willing to have some, too. That should help his standing with them, right? They'll stop glaring at him for being albino and sharing their uniform. Let them see he's just like the rest of them. Well, in the fact that they can all enjoy a dose of alcohol in this rough time at least. They probably aren't one of the few around that know he's a nation.

Smiling to himself, Prussia steps over to stand in front of Canada, making sure to get far too close for comfort. "So. What were you doing in Berlin? How did you even get over here?"

"I was looking for information. That's all I can say."

"Hmph," he grunts, then sighs, straightening up. "You're tougher to crack than I thought you'd be."

"You haven't even done anything."

Prussia opens his mouth to disagree, but after a moment he has to close it as no words - and no facts - come to his defense for him. Canada's right. He hasn't done anything. He doesn't actually want to, either, which is the weird part. He should. They've probably told Canada that he enjoys battle and gets drunk on his own bloodlust.

Sure, that much is true on a battlefield , but doing something like torturing prisoners is different. He can do it if he needs to - he's been doing it for his country since his days as the Teutonic Knights. Which is a rough memory for a child, but it's true.

So why does he struggle when it comes to Canada?

"Why is that?" Canada asks, as if echoing his own thoughts. "Is giving me beer your idea of getting me to speak up?"

"No, I just -"

He clenches his jaw and stomps over to the dresser so he can set his beer bottle down. After downing the last of its contents, of course. He doesn't want to think. He doesn't want to even bother with this. Why the fuck is he here instead of out fighting?

Damn it all, this is not what he should be doing.

"You don't want to do it, do you?"

Canada's assumption gets him to glare over at the other nation. His anger is rising because of this topic. He doesn't want to debate or discuss this anymore. When he doesn't understand something himself, he'd rather avoid the whole thing entirely.

"That's not it," he growls. "I'm just playing with you to get you all comfortable before I do my worst."

Canada merely shrugs at him. "You don't seem like the type."

Brave little shit. He wants to punch that light hearted attitude out of him. So much for getting him drunk and loosening him up for information. So much for having a fun conversation because he's bored as hell. This is pissing him off.

Still, he forces a grin. "Then it's working and you're falling for it."

"Hmm. No I'm pretty sure I'm a good judge of character."

"Everyone likes to think they're a real good judge of character, when really they're all shit at it."

"You can choose to believe that."

"It's not just what I believe!" he yells, crossing his arms to remind himself to hang back; he doesn't want to snap in front of another nation; he really, really doesn't; not unless he's on the battlefield; that's where it's okay; snapping here? Now? Over this? "It's the truth. You'd have learned that well enough if you weren't sheltered by Arthur."

"I wasn't that sheltered," Canada says, giving another shrug, and taking a last gulp of beer before staring at the empty bottle with sad eyes; it might have been cute if Prussia wasn't so pissed. "America's the one who can't read anybody but thinks he can."

"Hmph, I remember coming across that upstart brat during his war with Arthur." Now this is a conversation he can handle, so he relaxes a little. "Never did come across you though."

"Guess we just weren't meant to meet before now," Canada grumbles. "Always did get overshadowed by him."

"Hm," Prussia hums, running his tongue across his teeth as he thinks. This is another opportunity. Maybe it'll work this time. "I guess that's why you'd come out here as a spy and not him. Something that you're better at than him."

"Sad but true."

When nothing else comes from the other nation, Prussia starts tapping his arm in annoyance. No. Calm down. Think through it. He's talking more now, so there has to be a way to get him to spill something.

Anything would be better than constantly being dodged like he has been so far. It's getting frustrating. Beyond frustrating. He doesn't even really want to gather information from this guy, but if he would just make it easy then there doesn't need to be any reason to push. No reason for torture if the little simple things would work.

Can't he see that?

"I'm actually impressed you got inside our capital before West noticed your presence."

"That's what I do," Canada sighs, slouching on the edge of the bed. "I slip under people's radars."

"Mmf," Prussia bites the inside of his cheek, tapping his foot as he waits for more, annoyed when nothing else comes. "Or maybe West was just distracted by other things."

"Maybe, but I'm not telling you."

A slew of curses escape from Prussia's mouth and he barely manages to hold himself back from punching the dresser or nearest wall. "Damn it. Why do you have to be so difficult?"

Canada doesn't respond to this, instead staring up at the ceiling and muttering something to himself. The beer is all gone at this point and instead of feeling relaxed, Prussia is just more annoyed than when he started drinking. Which is not the point of sharing a beer or two. He wants to have a normal conversation. Maybe relax and enjoy the company, forced as it is, because what the hell else is he going to do here?

He feels like he's sulking as he keeps his arms crossed and leans back against the dresser. Hopefully he's not pouting and his demon red eyes are a little intimidating when he's angry. He knows many humans who have soiled themselves just at a look from him. Why is Canada so resilient? Some nobody nation underneath Arthur's thumb, and he just shrugs off every look like it's nothing.

Maybe he's lost his touch. He scoffs at this. Yeah, right. There's no way.

"Can't believe I got caught," Canada mumbles into the silence.

So Prussia looks back at him and his eyes are pulled to something else. He softens a little because another pulse in his body beats at an irregular rhythm. His breath catches. Oh, he's weak over the cute, vulnerable position of the other nation and that's a bad, bad thing.

He may not know for sure what the others say about him, but after what's he's done in the past…

Licking his lips he forces the monster to sit down. Not. Today. "What did you think would happen? A nation's capital is like his heart. It's damn near impossible to ignore if another nation shows up there."

"Yeah, you have a point. Guess we just got careless."

"We?"

Canada sits up on his elbows, face contorted in confusion. "You didn't know there was a group of us? I hope they're okay…"

Despite himself, Prussia grimaces, because he has a pretty good idea of what happened. "A group of human spies? Caught in our capital? Not likely."

"I know what happened," Canada whispers, shutting his eyes and flopping back on the bed, legs hanging off the edge. "I can't feel them anymore."

Not knowing what else to do, Prussia rubs the back of his neck and turns away. He feels like he's hovering over someone in the middle of mourning. Which is weird. This is war. He's killed far more enemies already. Even if he's been hanging out on the eastern front, there's no guarantee he hasn't killed one of Canada's mortal friends already.

A little sobering to think of it like that.

"Sorry," he murmurs into the silence.

How many friends has he killed? How many parents? How many children? For some reason, instead of thinking of the battlefield, his mind returns to when he'd been told to inspect the camps. His stomach reels at the memory and he shakes it to the side.

How many of their own citizens have been butchered for this war? He doesn't want to think of it. There's nothing he can do, so he has to push it to the side and hope the world never finds out what they've been doing here. Hope they don't see the truth for themselves. Speculation is one thing. Actually seeing it…

He shakes his head, and then gets the odd feeling on the back of his neck. His spine tingles and he spins around, catching the other nation sitting up again and staring at him. With eyes that aren't glaring or sad. Just staring. Heh. That's different.

"What? Want more beer or something?" Prussia asks, though he's pretty sure that's not it. "'Cause tough. It's rare these days and I'm not snatching anymore from the guards outside. They need it more."

"No, it's not that," Canada says, then frowns. "Wait. If it's so rare, why give me one?"

At this, Prussia clicks his tongue between his teeth. "Doesn't matter. Maybe I should've let you drink both. Might have made it worth it."

"So you were just trying to get information out of me after all, huh?"

With a lazy grin, Prussia spreads his hands. "Told you not to trust me, didn't I?"

What he expects is disappointment from Canada. A frown. A sad look. Anything except the smile that lights up those blue-violet eyes. Purple eyes that are a different shade from Ivan's. A better shade, if he's honest.

They look kind of nice when he smiles.

"I still can't bring myself to believe that."

Prussia shrugs, crossing his arms again. "Believe what you want. Just makes it easier to take advantage of you if you think I'm not a bad guy."

Again, he expects the man to pout or frown and stare at the ground. Break his spirit, maybe? Except, no, Canada laughs. Actually, full out laughs. As much as it's nice to hear laughter around here, Prussia never has liked it when someone is finding amusement in him . Not when he's trying to be serious, at least.

So he growls. "I'm warning you. Don't take me lightly."

Canada only waves off the warning. "If you really wanted information out of me, you would have done something by now."

Oh, that does it.

Prussia moves swiftly from his spot by the dresser to standing in front of Canada like he has multiple times now. Only this time he actually touches. He grabs the man's shirt collar and pulls him up to be closer to eye to eye.

To his delight, the man's laughter stops and his breath hitches. Good. Fucking learn a lesson, then.

"Don't. Take. Me. Lightly."

Canada nods, breathless, eyes wide. Is that a tremble in the other nation's fingers? Good. Let him be scared. He doesn't need a drinking buddy out here anyway. He should be making friends with the guards, not bringing a rare drink to a prisoner. And even if out of the goodness of his heart, he does to decide to share, it doesn't mean he's not going to snap.

In fact, it might be easier if he does snap. Let the monster take control. Let the overpowering feelings do the hard stuff. He's done it before when conquests had to happen. When battles required it.

Why not? It would be so easy to let go. So. Fucking. Easy.

The anger rushes through him and he almost gives in right there. But a spark in those blue-violet eyes calls him back, and he tosses the nation down to the bed. Canada scrambles back and puts distance between them. Once again, good.

"I will get information out of you," he growls. "If I have to snap to do it, I will, so underestimate me at your own peril."

"Right," Canada murmurs, voice shaking just slightly. "S-sorry."

"Good."

With that, he turns on his heel and stalks out of the room. Oh, he picks up the empty beer bottles. Can't help but make sure things stay clean, after all. Can't leave anything that doesn't belong.

He slams the door. Then once he's on the other side and he's made sure it's locked behind him, he leans against it and heaves out a lengthy breath. That was close. Too close.

He takes off his hat and tosses it down the stairs, glaring at it as it hits the floor. He'll pick it up later. Right now, he needs a moment to calm down. He's seen West with his monster unleashed. He's sure West has seen him. They were pretty bad at the beginning of the war, after all.

But no more. He may have just threatened Canada, but he won't. He can't. His hands are shaking just thinking of it. His stomach feels queasy. He keeps thinking of the citizens they've condemned. How can he dish out pain to anyone else after seeing all that? Unless they're on a battlefield, of course, but here? With Canada?

Those eyes…

Grimacing, Prussia reaches up and squeezes his hand into his silvery-white hair. "Shit."