"So, you'll be in England next week?" he asks one day after the party while you two sit outside on your apartment steps sipping hot coffee. "Are you excited?"
The warm, sweet liquid trails down your throat, "So much! I've always wanted to go to Europe. I never thought I'd get the chance. I'm so grateful what this random job offers me."
"Even me?"
"Ye-Yeah."
A car roars by.
"We won't be able to see each other a lot, won't be able to have a lot of dates," says Russia while looking at his cocoa.
You lean on his firm shoulder, "Yeah, I mean, I never tried long distance. But hey! We'll see each other in meetings and events that are coming up! And, we have technology!" you show your phone, reminding him.
"Oh yeah, I guess I really have to learn how to use it."
You open your camera app and shyly look at him, "Hey, Russia." You scoot closer aiming for the head on head pose, you capture his look of surprise. And then, his posed smile. And then, a sneak kiss on the cheek...by you. As he blushed to himself you giggle at his expressions. "You're so cute, Ivan," his name rolls of your tongue. To you, Ivan seemed more like the nickname, and the only times you wanted to use it were when he is caught off guard.
He pouts, whips out his phone, fiddles with it, and then hands it to you for help. You two proceed to snap cheesy photos of each other, "Russia which do you prefer? Your name or country?"
He shrugs, "Not even my sisters call me Ivan. Unless they do not truly know who I am, Ivan is brushed aside. I'm fine with you calling me either, but it's nice hearing you call my name." He finishes the cocoa and stands up, "Well, I'm going to depart to Russia soon." You stay standing on the step, almost matching his height, "Can I...get a goodbye kiss?"
Smiling, you tiptoe, holding his cheeks as he gingerly holds your waist and slowly begin leaning in-
"HEY!" your head jerks to the driveway and see America in his car with his window down. "WAKE UP!"
"Hey!" you awoke to America's voice. Not only was he repeatedly saying "hey" he also was jabbing a finger at your cheek. "What were you drooling about?"
You find yourself hugging a pillow and drool escaping your open mouth. You peer outside and see the buildings of Germany grow closer as the plane landed. The captain spoke in German as another woman translated for him asking passengers to prepare for landing. You throw the wet pillow at America so he could return to his seat and straighten your new carrier bag that Japan gave you. You felt like an anime high school girl with it.
"Sick dude! I got fresh drool on my cheek!" cried America.
A month has passed since then, I wonder what he's up to. No service yet on phone. I hope Germany has wi-fi.
When you arrived in London you and America were bombarded with documents and files until you suggested England should start using computers. You then sat with him until important papers were retyped, saved, organized, and to check any errors with recently signed documents. It was an amazingly vintage, beautiful large mansion filled with maids and butlers and extravagance. You dared not to go in the basement for America warned that is where England did his witchcraft. Although you spent most of your time getting lost in the mansion and helping England around his office the two treated you to seeing Big Ben and the historic buildings. Now you and America find yourselves to be flying to Germany in order to finally respond with the files he gave the very first meeting you attended.
He gleefully takes his backpack and your carrier bag, "C'mon, we don't want to let Germany wait for us!" He runs out the plane first as you grab onto his jacket so you don't get caught up in the crowd. Sitting in the front has it's advantages and this is one you loved.
Before he started down an escalator you grab his arm back, "Wait a minute we have to go to luggage claim first!"
"Oh, right, my bad."
...
"I can't believe you and England bought me a bright pink bag," America muttered as he spotted his bag, but quickly handed it to you pretending it is yours.
"So it will be spotted easily."
"Why didn't you get it yourself?!" he grabs your dark blue bag with a red ribbon tied on the handle.
"Honestly just to fuck with you." Although you had no choice but to travel with the dude, you already have forgotten the fact that he is your boss, and have feel as if you have grown on him.
"Ha, I'm glad you're at least fun," he rolls your bag instead. "I bet you were drooling over Russia in the plane."
"Oh, shut up," you flush and walk ahead of him towards the exit. You see the back of a familiar blonde and wonder if you should pounce on him as Italy does or give him a pat on the back. You go for the pat believing you two are still on formal terms.
"Oh," he turns.
"Hi Ger-" he pecks both of your cheeks, "...many."
Realizing what he's done he gets flustered and apologizes, "Oh, god! I'm so sorry _, it's just that's the way I've been greeting Italy, and it was an immediate reaction."
"Better you than me," laughs America as Germany continues to be blushing.
"I'll take your luggage," his hand flinches when it almost brushed against yours, and then he continues to take it. "Your luggage is very..."
"It's America's, he's totally secretly gay for pink."
"HOLD UP NOW!"
...
"Oh, Germany's house looks so cozy!" it looked smaller than America's house and is surrounded by a stone wall. The house looked like a cottage surrounded by bare trees as a stone walkway led to the front. You stand behind the black gate as America takes the luggage from the car out, "Oh! Are those dogs?"You hear them barking from behind the wooden door which creaks open to your surprise. Light shone inside, cutting through the darkness. Two German shepherds and a golden retriever ran out the door barking excitedly. Germany yells a command and they stop in the middle of the walkway, sit down and wag their tails in silence. "Italy is that you?" you called out to whoever opened the door.
Germany opens the gate and you walked straight to the dogs to crouch and pet them. "Come inside, you can play with them in the warmth," with the flick of his hand the trio of dogs run back inside.
"Awesome place you got here!" America runs ahead of you, "Whoa, bro!"
Italy appeared from behind the door wearing a white apron and stirring something in a bowl. "Ciao!" he greets with his usual flashy smile.
"What the hell are you doing in my house, uninvited?!" yelled Germany. "And, what are you doing?"
"I heard you were having guests and I wanted to fix a dinner for you! Ciao, _!" Italy's curl bounced happily as Germany pet his head.
"You didn't have to do that, but might as well have their last meal be something so delicious," Germany enters the house with his dogs.
"Last meal?"
"Last unhealthy meal," Germany rephrases.
Your glance switches to America who was nonchalantly making his way around the house. "I thought we were just here for documents?"
"That is the main case! But!" he throws his coat on the nearest chair which Germany scurries to pick up. He left a trail of clothing that was picked up by Germany, leading to an exercise room filled with weights, equipment and mirrors.
"Geez, Italy makes a better guest. At least he keeps his clothes on until he goes to bed," mutters Germany.
"Oh, please tell me his underwear isn't in that pile," before he could check an agonizing scream is made in the corner of the room. There stood America in the corner on a weighing scale in his polka dot boxers. He then re-calibrates the scale and steps back on it a couple times before accepting reality.
"Dammit, furry brows may be right!" he stares into one of the huge mirrors and pinches the jiggly part on his belly, "Wh-Where did my abs go? All of a sudden."
"America, please...put on clothes," you beg.
"That settles it," Germany hands you a neatly folded pile of clothes, "We will stick to a strict training regimen for the next three weeks. That also means changing your diet."
"Can I still eat ice cream and pizza, and burgers?" whined America.
"NO! Although exercise helps strengthen and tighten your body, the diet is the most important thing!" he sounds just like a training instructor.
America walks up to you, takes a hold of your shoulders and brings you close to his eyes, "_, please join me."
"Wha? No way! This is all for your benefit! And for starters put your shirt back on!"
He tugs his sweater on while muffling, "Please? Trust me, this is not the first time I came for help. First time I came to Germany though! I need a partner!" Seeing you weren't budging he went for the extreme, "I'll cut your paycheck in half."
Damn, he remembered he is my boss.
"Fine."
"Don't worry, we'll start off slow first, and build it up," assured Germany. "I'll also throw in some combat training for you, _."
"Please, don't die _," whispered Italy from the kitchen.
...
Germany said to come to the front of his house two hours after dinner, but you decided to be dressed and prepped and step out ten minutes earlier. You had to dig in your luggage to grab the baggy black pants you have shoved in back in America. The sports bra you wore all the time is finally going to be put in use as you slipped a plain white shirt over and had the only active jacket you owned on. You now see why America made you purchase one back in England, also running shoes. Germany beams at you proudly when you step outside, "I like that you came early." You admired his look, combat boots, dark green trousers topped with a military jacket.
Italy stood beside him waving a white flag, "Are you going to give them the same training back in World War 2?"
"Vat? No! I'm sure America can handle it, but I don't want to put _ through that!"
"Whoa!" you touch his jacket's material, "So, is that what you wore?"
"Y-Yeah."
"You look so cool!"
Germany backs away, furiously blushing, "Th-This is what most soldiers wore! Not big of deal!"
"Oh, man, I should have brought my clothing too!" sighed Italy. "Oh!" Italy straightens your back, and poses your right hand in a proper military salute. "Now," he steps to your left side and positions himself as well, "Say, 'Yes Captain!'"
"Yes Captain!" you say in the sternest voice you could, and then bounce up and down with Italy. "Oh, my god that was so cool!"
"I know!"
Germany hides his embarrassed smile, "That America is one minute late."
"Yo!" America bursts through the door wearing a red sports jacket, black pants and combat boots. You suddenly want those boots now.
"COUNT OFF!"
"1!" you yell out excitedly.
"2!"
"Tre!" Italy yells holding his flag. "Oh," he steps back to Germany. "Sorry, I totally had deja vu!"
"Now, before we begin training, we shall stretch!"
Italy cheered you and America on as Germany instructed you both through the basic stretching routines. You are surprised on how stretching was beginning to tire you out a little. "All right," he opens the gate and draws a map with his finger. "You see that fenced off field? You are going to run a lap around it, and when you come back be prepared to do more. GO!"
His booming voice is like a gunshot, so you took off before America did. The cold definitely made it easier for you to run as the wind nipped your cheeks. America caught up with you panting heavily. You turn to him, expecting him to speak, but he had a determined look in his eyes, so you decided to keep at the same pace as him.
"Not bad," Germany complimented while stopping a timer. "Doing better than Italy did the first time around. Now, drop and give ten!" Afterwards, "Wall sits! One minute!" Then, "Thirty sit ups!" He held America's feet down as Italy held yours. "Another lap!"
The second time around you started off slowly as America pushed himself forward, but this time you could see the exhaustion on his face. Back once more, push ups, lunges, sit ups, lunges, and finally one last sprint. Although you could feel your breath growing rapid and hearing your heart pumping, you and America get ready to race each other. The advantage he has is having longer legs than you, taking longer strides. Even if it wasn't a competition, it feels exhilarating. Taking off, it felt as if you were flying, as if your feet no longer touched the ground. It was such a rush, you didn't care whether America inched forward little by little. Even if he finished first, he slowed down in the end while you kept zooming til the end, and make extra effort to stand straight in front of Germany.
"Teacher's pet," wheezed America.
Honestly, your knees felt like jelly and collapsed on the cold sidewalk, groaning in immense soreness. Italy patted your back as you cough and hack while catching your breath, "You two should take rest now," said Germany making his way back in his house. "Meet me in the weight room at eight sharp in the morning, good job. If you need me I'll be in my office."
...
The room reminded you of your small apartment, except without the clutter. A bed with fluffy white sheets and pillows sat against the wall facing a flat screen television. It stood on a long thin table which you shoved your luggage case under. You switch on the lamp next to your bed and flop down on the soft cold blanket. America pounded on the door, "Oi! I'm showering first okay? Don't walk in!"
"'Kay!" you decided not to throw an insult and shove your hand under the pillow where you left your phone. New texts.
"I found out how to use the faces!" the message followed a kissy face and hearts. Scrolling up you see he snapped a picture of an elaborate mansion with a red tinted roof and a balcony. There seemed to be no driveway, but sidewalks stretching to different areas and meeting at a fountain not running with water, but overflowing with snow. "Since Lithuania, Estonia and Latvia left, I've been quite lonely..."
(Note: The Baltic States have regained their independence after the Soviet Union collapsed in 1991.)
You begin typing back, "You promised me borscht, so don't worry, I'll make my way there somehow."