Dressed For Rejection

7

Canada silently got out of the shower, immediately grabbing a towel and wrapping it around himself. He casually dried himself off, and grabbed the other towel. The Canadian wrapped a towel around his waist, sat down on the sink counter, and aggressively dried off his hair.

By that, I mean he just rubbed the towel against his hair for a minute or two straight. He eventually put it down, looking at himself in the mirror again. It always didn't take very much for his hair to dry.

He left the bathroom, casually walked to his room, and entered it. The first thing he started doing was looking for clothes to wear. The Canadian didn't plan to go anywhere, so he basically just threw on boxers, a plain black shirt, and pajama shorts.

He walked out of his room, holding his phone as it was now fully charged, and walked to his living room. Maybe he should watch a movie!

After that great idea popped into his head, he decided to cook some popcorn. Canada rushed to the kitchen, grabbed a microwavable packet of it, ravaged it open, and set it in the microwave. He cooked it for around 3 minutes, and ran away.

He found a big bowl, and walked over to the popcorn. As he took it out and burnt himself 40 times, he figured that the popcorn looked a little sad. When he opened it, he was blasted with a wave of heat, and burnt popcorn.

The Canadian visibly sagged, but he could deal with it. He poured it into the bowl, cringing a little. After he got it all in, he tossed the empty popcorn bag into the trash. Canada arrived to the couch, sheepishly eating one piece, and figured that it was fine.

He grabbed the remote, turned on the tv, and immediately started searching for a movie he knew well. When he finally stumbled upon the movie, he smiled. The Canadian always watched this movie.

Canada let it play, holding the bowl and keeping on his smile. Although, when his phone rang as loud as it possibly could, he sent the bowl flying. He groaned, grabbed his phone, and answered without checking the contact.

He angrily unmuted, and screamed. "WHAT." He made it over to the popcorn, but then paused when he heard an 'oh'. The Canadian looked at the contact, and it was Russia.

"Oh my god, I'm so sorry. I thought you were America or something." He apologized immediately, repeatedly apologizing. He heard a sigh from the other side of the line. "Its fine."

"I'm still so sor-" "Just stop talking so you don't mess up or whatever again, okay?" The Canadian fell silent, kinda offended, but mostly fine. "I was.. I was thinking that maybe we could.. Hang out."

Canada thought about it for a little, finding it kinda funny that Russia had a tone of voice that was antsy sounding. When he heard Russia about to apologize and hang up, he stopped him. "Oh, no, don't hang up! I was just thinking slowly. Of course we can hang out!"

The Russian was no less than surprised. Someone really wanted to hang out with him? "Okay.." He sighed, as if he was giving himself a mental pep talk. "Can I go to your house?" Russia asked, gripping his phone a little tighter.

"Yeah, that's okay! I'll send you my address." The Canadian grinned to himself, watched Russia hang up, and got back to his messages. He typed in his address, was wary for a few moments, but then hit send.

He stood up, then remembered that h had to clean up the popcorn. "Ugh." He groaned, tiptoeing over popcorn. He then began on his search to find the vacuum.

++

Canada had finally rangled the mess of popcorn, and vacuumed it up. He was now currently trying to speedrun changing into an acceptable outfit.

The Canadian finally got on an okay outfit, which was a black undershirt, a flannel shirt put on top of that, two-toned khaki pants, and black socks.

He was a little nervous, but kept his cool. Canada wouldn't be waiting and doing nothing, so he decided to do something productive called arguing with people on the internet.

That got rather boring, though, because no one was willing to fight him on why cats are the superior house pet. In fact, most people agreed.

The second he put his phone down, the doorbell rang. He was glad, since he couldn't drop his phone and possibly break it, and also since it meant that Russia had arrived. The Canadian basically threw himself across the living room, maybe nearly tripping a few times.

Canada arrived at the door, smiling. When he opened it, he was instead greeted with someone's chest, rather than their face. Usually, everyone was shorter than him. The Canadian slowly looked up, and met eye contact with the man taller than him.

He swore that he could've shit himself, but he didn't, which was obviously a good thing! Russia raised a brow at Canada. "Are you gonna let me in?" The Canadian quickly recollected himself. "Sorry, of course." He took a few steps back, letting the Russian step inside of his house.

Russia took a few glances around it, and shrugged. "Your house isn't as bad as mine." Canada didn't know what to think of that comment, but just nodded. "Alrighty, then.." He was definitely nervous right now.

The Russian sighed, and stared at the Canadian. "Gonna show me around or just stand here the whole time?" Russia murmured, and Canada quickly nodded. "OH! Yeah, yeah! Come on." He didn't grab his hand, because he thought that maybe he would throw him into his own wall.

Russia just sat through the nervous Canadians tour of his house. He looked like he was a way too nervous house salesman, which made the Russian smile just a little.

++

After Canada showed Russia his house, he decided that maybe he could get him something to eat. "Are you hungry?" He asked, facing the Russian in the middle of the kitchen.

The Russian really wasn't hungry, and shrugged, but he would probably at least try his cooking. It probably wasn't that bad. Although, his food choices did alarm him somewhat. Why?

Well, the ketchup chips were certainly something that caught his eyes..