This chapter was inspired by the song 'White Blank Page' by Mumford and Sons, the same band as last time. And it was requested by the same person. … I'm still messing with her…

White Blank Page

Prussia sat on the edge of the mattress and watched Canada breathe in and out, in and out. In and out. His bare chest rose with each whispering sigh and his blonde eyelashes fluttered against his flushed cheeks.

He was not supposed to be there, in the haven of the other nation's bedroom, but that had never stopped him before. The guest bedroom was down the corridor and much too far away. He could not stand to be that far from Canada.

Prussia reached forward and brushed the tangled curls from his forehead. Canada snuffled and shifted the slightest bit closer to Prussia.

It was still too far.

He pitched a leg over him and straddled Canada, trying not to jostle him but not really caring if he did. He studied his face. He traced his collarbones.

Canada was beautiful, of course; he always had been. But that did not explain this level of obsession.

And it was obsession, make no mistake; it was fascination, and addiction, and passion. It was more than love, or devotion. It was dirtier and darker than infatuation. Obsession.

Prussia sat back, keeping his weight on his knees and off of the other nation. He ghosted his hands over his chest and his pale, pink nipples. Canada whimpered and arched into his fingertips but he did not wake up.

Prussia had made sure of that.

He circled his bellybutton and the faint treasure trail there. He fingered the waist of his chequered red and white pajama pants.

Canada leaned into him, gasping and mumbling and biting his lips. His mind might be elsewhere but his body was certainly present and accounted for. Prussia wanted to believe that he was dreaming about him.

He scraped his fingernails over his hipbones and shivered when Canada moaned.

He knew it was wrong. He knew that he was abusing Canada and his perfect, fragile concept of trust. They were best friends and Canada had made it quite clear that he did not want anything else from him but… He could not help it; he would not help it. He refused to be denied.

So he took advantage of his kindness. He took advantage of their friendship; of drinking games and sleeping over.

Prussia should have been ashamed of his part in all of this, but he was just resigned. He would take what he could get, and however he could get it. He was practical, if nothing else, and he needed Canada like he had never needed anyone before.

It was disturbing and frightening and somehow so exhilarating.

Prussia threaded their fingers together and held Canada's hands over his head. He kissed him gently.

He thought about going further, of taking more; of taking everything, but something stopped him. As always. Prussia looked down at the sweet, angelic nation trembling beneath him and his breath hitched.

He wanted him, all of him, but not like this. Never like this.

Prussia miserably slid off of him and laid down beside him. He wrapped his arms around Canada and it was chaste and innocent in spite of their previous position. He nuzzled his neck and choked on a sob when Canada returned his embrace.

He wanted him but he could not have him.

In the morning, Canada would tease him about sneaking into his bed again, never suspecting, and Prussia would laugh it off even though his heart was breaking.

He snuggled against him and waited impatiently for dawn. He listened to him breathe.

In and out, in and out.

In and out.

Author's Notes:

Uhm… Yes. That was depressing.

I'm assuming that Prussia slipped him something or gave Canada a little too much to drink, just to be sure. Or perhaps Canada just trusts him enough to fall asleep in his presence. Now, I do not condone this, of course, but obsession is as interesting as it is frightening. I'm not sure if any of you have ever been stalked (I hope not) but I have been, many times. I just seem to attract them. And trust me when I say that it is a strange and remarkable phenomenon. Otherwise normal people just sort of… Break.

Also, I apparently need to get laid, if the last couple of chapters are anything to go by… Unresolved sexual tension, anyone?