Hetalia: Soulwords.

Canada Part 2

WHAM!

The impact was sudden, a jarring collision that struck with such force and velocity that you were left utterly defenseless, robbed of even a fleeting moment to brace yourself.

In the ensuing chaos, your gun was violently wrenched from your grasp, spiraling through the air before disappearing amidst a carpet of autumn leaves that lay strewn across the unforgiving ground. Each rustling leaf seemed to mock your vulnerability, amplifying the intensity of the moment.

Struggling to regain your footing, an unexpected weight bore down upon you, pinning you to the earth with an unyielding force. Your vision obscured, all you could discern was the shadowy silhouette adorned in a vivid green hoodie, crowned by a cascade of disheveled, amber-hued locks that tumbled haphazardly.

Who the fuck was this?

A surge of adrenaline propelled you to demand their identity, your voice tinged with a blend of fear and defiance. "H-h-hey, get off of me!" The words escaped your lips, ricocheting through the tense atmosphere like a desperate plea.

As they slowly raised themselves, framing your face with their hands planted on either side, a chilling realization dawned upon you. The visage that loomed above was none other than Mr. Canada, Matthew Williams — the personification of your nation, now entangled in this...issue. 

"You're my soul mate."

His voice was very soft, sort of like a blanket, a very fuzzy and soft blanket. It wasn't loud either like Mr. America's was. His voice was quiet and full of worry, worry for you. 

A tingle goes up you spine, the glowing words on your back hidden by your sweater. His words were not a lie, a rare thing from a nation nowadays. 

You stare up at him, heart beating.

This was not good.

Not only had your soulmate stopped you from killing yourself, he was your country...your fucking country! That was not a good impression.

Your eyes quickly landed on your gun and your mind wondered how fast you could grab it before he stopped you. He must have noticed you looking because he shifted his body so he was blocking your line of sight. "P-please don't." He said quietly and stared into your face with compassion and fear.

You looked into his blue eyes and was overtaken by the calm in them. Something pulled at your heart and said to listen. It was probably because he was your country, but you felt complied to listen to him.

"O-okay." You answered. 

He kept himself between you and then gun and helped you sit up. "S-sorry about knocking you over like that, but it would have been far better than the bullet in your head eh?"

"Y-yeah." You say and rub your shoulder.

"Oh, d-did I hurt you?" He looks concerned and reached for your shoulder.

"N-no. It's just a little sore." You answer and he takes his hand back.

"I see." He says and smiles a bit at you. "I'm guessing you already know who I am then."

"You're Canada." You say and he smiles even more.

"Yeah, I am. Thanks." He says, his voice full of joy.

"Thanks?" You question. Why would he be thanking you for knowing who he is. All kids in Canada knew who not only their country was, but also their provinces. 

"Oh yeah, sorry about that. I forget sometimes that my people know who I am. Others don't really remember me. But it's all fine eh?" His smile falls a bit.