The Dark And Hollow Pastas

Chapter Fourteen

"Vorry not, Canada. Zhe awesome Prussia heard jou vere ailing und came to cure jou vith mein awesomeness!" Prussia pushed open Canada's bedroom door with the force of a bull.
He wasn't met with applause as he expected, but it was only because the injured country was asleep.
"Canada! Vake up und bask in mein awesomeness. Kesesesese." Prussia jumped onto the bed, receiving an irritated groan from the blonde.
"Leave me alone, by." he hissed.
"But Francey Pants told me to vatch over jou." Prussia objected.
"You can stay. Just be quiet eh?" The country pulled his spare pillow over his head.
Prussia hopped off the bed and sat in the chair beside it. He sighed in boredom.
"Hey, Prussia?" Canada asked after a while. His voice was mostly absorbed by his pillow, making it's already quiet sound even harder to hear.
"Ja?" Prussia looked up from the window, glad that the silence was broken. He didn't like the silence.
"Can you sing me to sleep, b'y?"
"Sing to jou?" Prussia tilted his head in confusion.
"Yeah. You can sing eh?"
"I-Uh..." Prussia paused. "Vhat awesome song do jou vant me to sing for jou."
"Papa used to sing to me in French...but you don't know those songs...do you?"
"Nein." Prussia scratched the back of his neck.
"Do you know anything by Celine Dion."
"Nein."
"Shania Twain?"
"Nein. Sorry."
Canada sighed. "Stompin' Tom Connors?"
Prussia smiled. "I do know zhat Hockey song jou love so much. Jou played it on repeat one day vhen jou vere at France's place."
"I did, didn't I?"
"Do jou vant me to start or...?"
"Oui." Canada curled up in a little ball and Prussia sat at his side.
"Oh zhe good 'ol hockey game isht zhe best game jou an name. Und zhe best game jou can name isht zhe good ol' hockey game."
This only caused the Canadian to laugh.
"Vhat? Is mein singing to awesome for jou?"
"No. It's your accent."
"Vell jour accent is aboot zhe weirdest one I've ever heard eh, b'y?" Prussia teased.
"Shut up." Canada chuckled.
Prussia smiled at making the country laugh.
"Have you heard from the others at all?"
"Vell, Svitzerland, Austria, und Liechtenstein are all safe vithin zhe walls of Svitzy's house. Ve bozh know no zombies are getting anyvhere near zhat place."
"True." Canada nodded. "Anybody else?"
"Russia, his sisters, und zhe Baltic Trio are all togezher und safe as vell."
"You know, we don't really talk much, do we?"
"Nein. Ve don't." Prussia looked the boy over, taking in the blonde hair, the violet eyes, his average build.
He was...kind of...adorable.
"Do you like pancakes?" He asked suddenly.
"Hm?"
"Pancakes. Do you like them?"
"Oh. Ja. I do."
Canada smiled.
"Vhat about jou? Do jou like beer?"
"Well, I'm not really known for it, but it's my drink of choice...That and wine."
"Look at us, bonding over food." Prussia held up his hand and Canada lightly smacked it.
"Kesesesese."
"Speaking of food...Do you think papa's done yet?"
"Mon garçon! Look what I brought!" France glided into the room, holding a plateful of Crêpes for both Prussia and Canada.
"I haven't had your crêpes in ages!" Canada grinned sweetly.
"Oui. Zhat's why I made zhem for you." France handed each of the countries their food before he rushed back out of the room.
"Birdie, jour Papa is a great cook." Prussia complemented after taking a large bite of the pastry.
Canada nodded subtly.
"Are jou as good at cooking as him?"
"Well, France started teaching me to cook...But he never finished so I had to teach myself the rest." He looked away modestly.
"Could I try jour cooking sometime?"
Canada was startled by the question. "Me?"
"Ja jou." Prussia's smile reached both of his ears.
"I...Uh...Yeah...Maybe." His face turned bright red.
"Hey, Canada?"
"Eh?"
"Vhat's jour human name?" Prussia set his food down and tucked his hands between his knees.
"I thought you only tell countries you feel close to..."
"I feel close to jou, Birdie." The German country felt his face heat up.
"Oh...Well, It's Matthew Williams."
"Mazhew Villiams." Prussia tested. "I'm Gilbert Beilschmidt."
Canada smiled. "I like that. It suits you."
The rest of the meal was spent in silence. But it was a good kind of silence, the kind of silence that didn't make Prussia want to scream.