The Dark And Hollow Pastas

Chapter Nineteen

Prussia pouted and plopped down onto the couch when they got inside. He remained there while France tucked the unconscious Canada into bed.
"Shouldn't you get some sleep, mon ami?" Francis asked his albino friend.
"I'm too anxious to sleep." Prussia buried his face in one of the throw pillows.
"Zhat doesn't seem like you." France sat down at Prussia's side. "What's going on?"
"It's nozhing." The Germanic country insisted. "Vhere is Spain?"
" 'e 'as been up all night worried about Romano." France brushed his hand through his hair.
"So zhe Italian hasn't voken up jet?"
"Non. 'e is still out."
"Gött. He must have gotten hit pretty badly."
France nodded.
"Vhy did zhis have to happen? Vhy did zhe zombies have to come along und ruin everyzhing." Prussia shouted suddenly, throwing the pillow across the room. It hit a lamp, which fell to the floor and smashed.
"Gilbert!" France scolded.
"Sorry Francis. I'm just stressed out."
"We all are."
"Do jou zhink Mattie vill be mad at me for breaking his lamp?"
" 'e told you 'is name?"
"Ja. Earlier. But do jou zhink he vill be angry?"
"Non. 'e won't get too mad over a lamp." France shook his head.
"Really? Because earlier-"
"Prussia, Mon petite Mathieu's rage is only dangerous when 'e is on zhe ice." France interrupted.
Prussia let out a relieved sigh.
"What are you two still doing awake?" Britain padded down the stairs wearing the pyjamas set out for each country. His bore little cups of tea and magic wands as well as magnifying glasses and his flag on the breast.
"We were worrying. What about you, Angleterre?"
"I couldn't sleep over Canada's whimpering." Britain admitted, scratching the back of his head.
"I don't hear anyzhing." Prussia tilted his head to the left. France could see a spark of concern in his blood red eyes.
"My room is right next to his...And it's not that loud, but still."
"You can sleep in my room tonight, Arthur." France offered just as Prussia stood.
"Ve have to comfort him!" His hands curled into fists at his sides.
"Non! 'e might not be cured yet."
"I don't care. I vant to be zhere for him."
"Prussia..."
Prussia ignored his friend. He stormed up the stairs.
"France, do you think Prussia is...You know..." Britain trailed off awkwardly.
"Oui. I zhink our Prussian friend feels for Canada as I feel for you, mon amour." France whispered.