Ah, why was he so close? "O-of course I can see you!" Though, at the moment, I was trying to look anywhere but at him. His amethyst eyes shown with a million facets of wonder.

"Lithuania! Don't worry, I'll save you, bro!" America came rushing on the scene. He had some weird sort of contraption on his back.

"America, I thought you were asleep. I'm sorry. I made such a big deal out of nothing," I apologized I scooted away from the stranger.

"Man, I thought I'd have to bust up some ghosts. I smell pancakes. Why are you sticky?" America asked.

"I can't believe you brought out a proton pack from Ghostbusters, America," the stranger said as he came out of his squat. He reached down to help me up. I took his hand. It was warm and firm in mine as he lifted me off the ground.

America's eyes went wide. "Canada! You're alive!" He pushed past me to hug the man. "I thought for sure the ghost had gotten you!"

"America, I only left the room for fifteen seconds last night, and you think a ghost got me? I don't know why I bother to come watch scary movies with you if you're just going to forget about me," Canada said softly.

"Bro, the movie was so scary, I didn't even know what was going on." America looked Canada to me awkwardly standing to the side. "Oh, intro! Lithuania, this is my brother Canada. Canada, this is Lithuania. He cleans. And he's like Russia's pet or something," America said.

"I'm not Russia's pet. I am my own country," I said quiet, mostly just to reassure myself. "I don't think I've ever heard of Canada before," I said a bit louder, making polite conversation with my new acquaintance. "Is your country really small? Or new, perhaps?" He didn't really look that young, but age can be misleading when it came to countries. China looked young, but he was really thousands of years old. Still, it seems like I should remember someone like him.

Canada inhaled and puffed out his cheeks a tiny bit as if he held something back. He looked rather frustrated, and it was actually kind of cute. Cute? Was that the right word? Canada and I were both guys. Why did I think he was cute?

"No, I'm not a new country. America and I are actually twins, so I've been alive for a while now. And I'm not exactly small either. I'm the second biggest country. Right after Russia," he said carefully.

America and I both shivered at the word Russia. America a bit more dramatically than me.

"Bro, don't compare yourself to that commie. You're not near as creepy as he is. Instead, you should try to be like me! A hero!" America said. He waved the proton gun in the air.

"Uh, thanks, but I'd rather no..." Canada started.

"Lithuania, do you want to wash that shirt? That sticky syrup has to be uncomfortable," America interrupted.

"Um, I don't really have anything else to wear," I said.

"Who cares? We're all dudes here," America said.

"Yeah...but...I..." I didn't know how to explain it without looking really weak. Who was I kidding, I was weak. I was pathetic. But was it so bad that I didn't want the constant reminder?

"Or I can just lend you one of my shirts," America suggested.

I nodded in relief. "Yes. That sounds much better."

"I thought the point was for him to change into a clean shirt. You only do laundry once a month, and it's near the end of the month," Canada pointed out. I could only imagine what that would smell like based on the messes I had to clean up.

Without warning, Canada gripped the bottom of his red hoodie and yanked it over his head. You would have never guessed his body would be so ripped. Not from his baggy hoodie. Each inch revealed as he peeled off his clothing was like finding something too ideal for anyone to ever see.

"Whoa, Canada! Put that away!" What? Why was America trying to stop this? Was I not supposed to want to watch it continue? To reach out and touch him? God, what was wrong with me? "You've got a bad case of the no-shirts, bro. You're going to lower the self-esteem of the entire hemisphere."

I sighed in relief. So I wasn't the only one who thought he looked good. Canada's head appeared out of the hoodie. It was beet red as he used one hand to pull down the white undershirt that had gathered just under his armpits.

"St-stop exaggerating, America. I could never do that. You're embarrassing me," Canada stammered. He flipped his hoodie right side up and handed it too me. "Sorry about your shirt. Do you want to wear this? It should be cleaner than anything America has."

"Thank you," I said as I took his hoodie from him. It smelled nice. Like pine tress and maple syrup and rain.

"So, if there are pancakes on the floor...does that mean there's more pancakes to eat?" America asked. He sounded really serious. Like his life depended on whether there were pancakes in the world or not.

"Sorry, but those were all of them," Canada said. America's face fell. "But I can make some more. Go to sleep. I'll wake you up when I'm finished."

"Ah, Canada, you're the greatest!" America wrapped one arm around his brother. "Seriously. The best brother a hero could ask for!"

"Just get some sleep already, America," Canada said as he pushed America towards his bedroom.

I took their momentary absence to change. I turned around and closed my eyes. I tried not to think if what I would see if I had my eyes open as I unbuttoned my shirt. I fumbled around clumsily, trying to spend as little time bare as possible. I found the fabric of Canada's hoodie. It was so soft and warm. I got my arms through the sleeves and slipped the rest over my head.

I got caught. My head couldn't find the exit. My hands flailed on top, trying to find the escape before Canada came back.

I felt a tug on the back. My head popped through the hole and landed in the hood. I wish I could just disappear back into the hoodie. He had seen me. He had seen my scars.

"It can be a bit tricky sometimes. The hoodie that is," Canada said.

There's no way he hadn't noticed. Everyone notices. I was just so grateful he was too polite to say anything. I pushed back the hood and flipped the rest of my hair from the collar. I pulled down the front of the hoodie, trying to find something to do with my hands.

"Thank you. For that," I said. I smiled nervously.

He smiled gently back. "It was nothing."