Childhood Dream| Ruscan

Part 2

Canada couldn't even believe his eyes, it had been so long since he had even seen Russia and he was ashamed to say he had even forgotten about him and how good of friends they had been. By the look on Russias face it was safe to say they recognized Canada too.

Russia was the first to finally say anything. "Wow- you're so different-" He commented, looking the Canadian up and down. Canada was a bit taken aback by how deep the others voice had gotten. Not that his hadn't also gotten deeper too, but Russias sounded noticeably deeper than his. Maybe it was just his accent.

"Well I could say the same for you, you look a lot different than you did when we were younger." Canada responded with a bit of a chuckle. "And you sound really different too." He added, taking his groceries from the other. He was thankful that the produce was bagged so it didn't hit the dirty floor when he dropped it..

"I'm sorry but uh- I don't actually remember your name. Hell I didn't even remember you at all until now it's been so long." Russia would admit, which relieved Canada a bit. He was glad to know he wasn't the only one who had forgotten everything.

"My names Canada." He'd say, smiling awkwardly. Russia looked a bit confused however. "I remember your name being different.." He said, his voice trailing off as he seemed to think about it a bit. "You're right- it was different- I just decided a change in name was due. That's all. It's not all I changed anyway, you can see that." He said, which Russia didn't question any further.

"My names Russia." He said, hating how awkward this entire interaction was. Canada noticed that Russia was getting uncomfortable, so he didn't say anything else that would cause him to have to talk any longer than he needed, not wanting to waste any more time or drag this already painfully long and awkward conversation on any longer.

"Well- it was nice to talk to you again- hope I'll see ya around." He said, quickly walking around the Russian who just nodded and responded with a simple: "Yea- you too. Stay safe."

As soon as Canada had reached his car and placed the groceries in the passenger seat he let out a loud sigh and rested his forehead on the wheel. "That was horrible." He thought to himself, looking up and noticing the Russian exiting the store.

He watched them walk to their car and drive away, sighing once again before finally starting to drive home as well, turning on the radio and trying to distract himself with music. He loved music, it was calming and sometimes when he was alone he even liked to sing, as embarrassing as that was.

But this time the music just faded into the background, blocked out by his busy mind and becoming nothing more than a faint buzz as his thoughts began to quickly overpower it.

If he saw them again he'd try not to be so awkward and shy. But who could really blame him? He hadn't seen them in over a decade and they had changed so much. The only way he even recognized them was by their flag and even then it took a bit for him to figure out who he was even looking at.

And his voice was different too.. it was so deep and admittedly even a bit scary. A kind of deep rumbling that shook the Canadian to his very core. He had to imagine that must be what a very bad thunderstorm felt like.

Canadas voice was incredibly different from Russias, considerably more high pitched yet still deeper than some. Some people even said he sounded a bit sick at times, like he always had a cold that was just beginning to get better.

Another thing Canada noticed about the Russian was his eyes, which were a dazzling mix of fiery warm colors that swirled and danced in the Russians eyes like some kind of magical and whimsical lava lamp. That was the first feature that helped Canada realize who he was looking at, along with Russias flag of course.

Canada always found himself examining different things about people, their voice, their eyes, their hands.. the way their mouth moved when they spoke.

Some of his friends had joked that he should become a public speaker. He could never do something like that.. in front of so many people, all staring at him. What if he stuttered or his voice cracked? Did he even have a good enough voice for public speaking?

Before he knew it he was home, back at the familiar little apartment that he chose to reside in. A comfy little space that was all his own and it was all he needed to be happy. The neighbors were nice and the rent was cheap, and that was a good deal in his eyes.

He got out, grabbing his groceries and waking up to his front door, struggling with his keys a bit before finally managing to unlock it and bringing the groceries inside with him.

He put the different food items where they belonged, produce items go in the fridge drawers, with vegetables and fruits being kept in separate drawers from each other. Meat goes in the freezer, milk goes on the lowest shelf in the fridge, and boxed items like noodles went in the small cabinet he had designated for them next to the one he had decided was for canned goods.

Then, after all this was done he was allowed to sit back down and continue watching his favorite show, which he did without hesitation as a little reward for himself..

He wasn't thinking about Russia as much anymore, as the only reason he had been thinking about him so much earlier was because he felt curious and even slightly guilty. Despite knowing that Russia had forgotten about him he still felt bad for forgetting them too.

From what he recalled they were very close friends, so how had they just forgotten about each other so quickly? He decided it wasn't worth dwelling on, he decided that the most obvious explanation was that they just grew up and naturally stopped being friends at some point.

After a bit he decided it was time to get some rest so he got up and began walking to his room to change into something more appropriate for sleeping, he didn't want to walk into work tomorrow like some kind of mindless exhausted zombie from lack of sleep after all.

Or maybe that would be better, then he could just turn his body on autopilot all day and let his mind wander around aimlessly until he was allowed to go home and spend the rest of the day taking a well deserved nap.

Either way he was already walking to his room and sleep was more tempting than staying up watching TV all night or playing some video game. He took off his shirt, rolling it into a ball and tossing it into the small basket in the corner of his room where all his other dirty laundry that he had been too lazy to clean was.

He put on another pair of grey sweatpants, practically throwing himself onto his bed and basking in the warmth and comfort. His bed smelled like him, and he smelled good, so his bed smelled good, and that was good, so he felt good.

Good enough in fact that it didn't take long for him to begin drifting off, slowly but surely.

Maybe work wouldn't be too bad tomorrow.

Maybe, just maybe, it would even be good..