Прощай моя любовь

chapter 5

>>>>>>>>>>>>present day<<<<<<<<<<<<

After a long moment of hesitation, Canada finally emerged from the comforting warmth of his car and into to the chilly evening air. Swiftly locking his vehicle behind him, he ploded along the snow-caked pavement, his hands buried deep in the lined pockets of his winter coat.

Glancing around, he admired the vibrant, yet subtle, neon Christmas lights that where draped over the towering street lamps. The light-hearted snowflake-shaped decorations reminded him of the surprisingly fast- approaching festival. Recently, he had been preoccupied with idiosyncratic thoughts of Russia: the way he plucked him out of his whirlpool of distress and abruptly abandoned him, the swam of rumours that where ever multiplying, the fact he had spent the whole world meeting in silence...

Bit by bit, Canada's stress-oppressed mind insisted on letting these things pile on his shoulders. Because of this, the polite Canadian thought it was his responsibility to offer an apology to Russia. Even if it, whatever 'it' was, wasn't his fault.

After several minutes of traveling, Canada was, at last, stood before the meticulously decorated wooden doors of Russia's home. Various colours twisted around the prominent cone shapes that peaked out of the roof of the estate, stretching high into the cloudy sky. The snow-topped evergreen trees which lined the elongated driveway framed the towering house like it was the most exquisite piece of art in the world. But despite its beauty, the house seemed to be lacking something vital... warmth.

Life.

Before he could change his mind, Canada knocked on the door three times, his fist trembling. Hearing some stomping noises from within the house, Canada nervously fidgeted with his numb hands. He had left his forgetful companion, kumajiro, at home, although now he started to long for his company.

Before Canada was prepared, Russia swung open the heavy wooden door. Almost immediately, a large smile spread across his face as he greeted the slightly startled Canadian, "Hello Canada! Would you like to come in?"

Canada gladly stepped into Russia's surprisingly warm house, letting the mist on his delicate glasses thaw away. He removed his gloves, and turned back to Russia,"Thank you... but I came here to apologise."

Russia's face dropped, concern and confusion plastering his features,"But why?"

"Well, how I... how I I-ignored you at the meeting,"Canada's gaze turned to the floor,"and when we met t-the other day... I thought I did something to offend you..."

Russia's gaping mouth closed, forming a sadistic smile, "it's not your fault at all, Canada. I think I should explain that happened."

A great weight seemed to have lifted from Canada's weary shoulders."Really?" He chimed, smiling adorably with his eyes closed, head tilting slightly to the side like a bishogo manga charecter, "I'm relived!"

Not bothering to restrict the grin appearing on his face, Russia invited the irresistibly cute Canadian to enjoy a bowl of his favourite, piping hot soup with him, to which Canada politely accepted.

The auburn tongues of flame lashed and hissed within the stone fireplace, warming the two men seated in front of them. Over their strongly scented bowels of chicken and mushroom flavoured soup, they somehow managed to change the pressing subject of America's constant obstructions to something completely unrelated, as if the pair where old friends.

Surprisingly, being in Russia's home didn't sent shivers down one's spine or mentally scar them, at least in Canada's case. He was embedded within a homely and warm aroma, enjoying the sweet taste of soup settling in his stomach and cheerfully conversing with the misunderstood russian man who he had slowly came to adore. Not that he would tell him that.

Or should I?

But I can't! And what about America?

Canada's mind was focused on his emotional battle, Russia's gleeful voice seeming to fade away into the abyss.

Russia noticed Canada's dismal contemplation and rose from his sofa, making his way over to the rocking chair where Canada was curled up, staring at the roaring fire blankly. He suddenly felt someone's presence close in front of him, and then the texture of someone else's fingers gently brushing away some stray stands of hair from his eyes. His head shot up, and then it fell backwards against the back of the chair, noticing the proximity of his Russia's faces. His blood immediately darted to his cheeks as the other man loomed in closer, Russia had mistaken Canada's retreat as indication to move further towards the blushing mess of a country.

"Are you ok, Canada?" Canada's face was painted an even darker shade of red as he felt Russia's breath brush his nose and lips, creating long rows of goosebumps to sprout all around his body in a wave effect.

"I... I-I-I... ah..."

"Cana-"

Before Russia could say, or do, anything more, Canada blurted, "Exuse me, can you tell me how to get to the toilet please?"

At that point, Russia suddenly became aware of Canada's discomfort and pulled back. "Of course, second on the left."

As if he wasn't at all concerned about what Russia's response, Canada darted out of the room, trying to conceal his vivid blush and leaving a certain, lonely russian alone once again.

>>>>>>>>>>>>short time skip<<<<<<<<<<<<

Finally, Canada plucked up the courage to emerge from the bathroom. Since he was so used to being ignored, receiving all this attention was thoroughly overwhelming, yet it felt pleasingly dissimilar to the ways he was previously treated.

A sharp smash froze him in his tracks.

Canada turned to see a silhouetted girl emerge from the shattered remains of the window behind him.

Both feet firmly placed on the now glass-capped floor, she hissed, "what..." she extracted a knife from the pocket of her navy blue dress,

"...Are YOU doing here?"