This chapter was inspired by the song 'Plant Life' by Owl City. It was requested by Mayurei13 a long time ago. Sorry, m'dear, that I am only getting around to it now.
Plant Life
Prussia felt like the world was spinning. He laid flat on his back, clutching at the floorboards as if it might keep him grounded. The dust was soft beneath his fingertips.
The splinters beneath the dust were not as forgiving.
He started as the house creaked with the footsteps of another person. It sounded so foreign. It had been a lifetime since someone else walked these corridors.
And now Canada was upstairs.
He tightened his grasp on the floorboards and turned his head to look out the window. The sun poured through the windowpanes where Canada had thrown open the shutters.
It was all so foreign…
White bedsheets covered the furniture, except for the one armchair he used when he was home. Which was almost never. There was a path through the dust where he would pace.
It just made it more obvious which footprints were his, and which ones belonged the other nation.
The fireplace was coated in soot and grime and the photographs on the mantelpiece were water damaged and discoloured. The floorboards were warped. It was not much of a home, to be honest. Just a house that he happened to own.
He had been alone too long for it to be a 'home'.
Canada came down the stairs draped in a white bedsheet and holding a wicker basket. The bedsheet covered his hair and shoulders and was wrapped around his arms. It dragged through the dust.
His feet were bare, despite Prussia telling him it was too dangerous, and he walked through the dirt and clutter with an eerie, silent grace.
"Gilbert, I thought we could…" Canada paused. "What are you doing?"
Prussia frowned at him without sitting up.
"… What are you doing?" He asked, pointing to the bedsheet and basket. Canada furrowed his eyebrows.
"I thought we could go for a picnic."
"A picnic…" Prussia said, testing the word on his tongue and tasting it. He had never been on a picnic before.
"Yes, a picnic. You know, a blanket, some sandwiches... Ants. Now, what are you doing?"
Prussia snorted and rolled over onto his stomach.
"Freaking out, mostly."
Canada sat down next to him and crossed his legs. He readjusted the bedsheet as Prussia crawled into his lap.
"Why?"
"Because you're in my house."
"And…?"
"You are in my house."
Canada blinked and set the basket down. He stared at Prussia.
Prussia stared back.
"… Is that a problem?"
"No. Yes! No."
Canada laughed and ran his fingers through his hair.
"Alright then."
Prussia batted at his hand.
"It's just, no one ever visits me here. No one. Except you're here, right now. And I'm freaking out."
"Mmm…" Canada ignored his agitation and continued to run his fingers through his hair with a thoughtful hum. "Do you mind?"
"Yes. No… Maybe." Prussia threw his arms into the air. "I don't know!"
Canada was quiet for a long time as he stroked his hair. The sunlight spilling through the window caught in his curls and danced across the white bedsheet.
He was stunning.
And, somehow, he fit in with the rest of the house. Old photographs and new friends; a thousand bedsheets covering a thousand pieces of unimportant furniture and one bedsheet covering someone very, very important.
The dust suited him. But the sunshine suited him more.
Prussia leaned into his ministrations and Canada smiled.
"… So would you like to go on a picnic?"
"Yes. Definitely."
Prussia leapt up and reached for the basket, helping Canada up in the same motion. He held onto his hand and refused to let go.
Canada opened the door. The sunlight poured in, even more than before, and made it hard to see. The porch moaned under their weight.
Prussia squinted.
The leaves on the trees were vibrant and rustled in the wind to a tune of their own. The grass was long and overgrown.
Birds sang from their perches, sweet and delicate and beautiful.
Daisies pushed up through the porch.
He looked at Canada. Canada looked back and squeezed his hand, reassuring and gentle. It spoke volumes: that there was no rush, that they could take their time.
That Prussia was not alone anymore…
He smiled and squeezed back.
Author's Notes:
Yes, this request was waiting for a long time… Dum dee dee dum dee… This song would actually work very well with 'Dare' as well, for obvious reasons. It is an awful sweet song.
And yes, it is worth panicking when someone new comes into your private sanctuary. It's weird. Trust me.
All of my love.