I Don't Believe It's There: PruCan

I Can Drink to That

Prussia's (Gilbert's) POV

This whole week, I was thinking about how Canada saw the scars. The memories of my whippings fail to escape my mind. It haunts me to this day what happened, but I try not to think about it. Throughout the week, I did my job and worked, but I was wondering if Canada would still accept me. We hanged out the rest of Sunday, but I can't help but to think it changed something. Then again, why wouldn't it?

Snow hasn't stuck to the ground in the Germanic countries yet, but it was getting there. I was wondering how Canada's country was doing. I can't help but to think it was a snowy tundra all year round. Did they even have sun during the Summer? I had no clue.

On Friday night, Spain and France had come over, with a little something from Spain's country. I opened the door to see France, wearing a blue vest, a white undershirt, and blue jeans. Spain came in a casual red collared shirt with tan jeans. He was holding two bottles of what looked like wine in his hands, a light hearted smile on the brunettes face.

"It's been a while," France stated in his thick French accent, giving a wink.

"So we thought we'd bring over some alcohol." Spain finished, his spanish tongue changing the way he pronounced his words.

I laughed, hugging them both and inviting them in. I was glad they came. "Are you sure two bottles is enough?"

They removed their shoes. "It's sherry," France told me. "It's like wine, but stronger."

I took a bottle in my hand and looked for the percentage. "18 percent?" I questioned. "Damn Spain. And you'd think France was the wine bastard."

France wiggled his eyebrows. "I have yet to taste Sherry."

"Well what're we waiting for?" Spain cheered and raised the bottles over his head, "Let's drink!"

We cheered back, and sat in the living room, I quickly fetched a wine glass for the each of us and sat with them. France poured us all a glass and we began sipping. "So how have you guy's been?" I asked, genuinely curious. I took a sip and let the alcohol wash over my tongue. France was right when he said it was strong; it burned my throat slightly. Should this even be called a wine?

France nudged my side. "More importantly, how have you been?" His tone of voice changed it from being a regular question.

I raised an eyebrow, "What do you mean?"

Spain spilled the beans, "We heard you were getting friendly towards France's other self."

I didn't know what he meant until I remembered that Canada had French back rounds. "But of course," I mocked France. "Why wouldn't we get along?"

French gave me a disapproving look, making me and Spain chuckle. "He's been over to your house a few times," France mentioned.

"So?" I sipped on my sherry.

"You're much to vague!" Complained France, "Have you taken a liking to him?"

"I found him on my country's territory. We talked from there."

"That's unlike you," Spain noticed, "Normally you'd bark for them to get off your territory."

I felt heat crawl up to my cheeks. I tried remaining my composure, "I don't know what you're talking about."

France narrowed his eyes and grinned, "He's cute, is he not?"

I almost spit out my drink. It's true that I've taken a liking to the younger country, but not in the way France was thinking. I think. I ended up staying silent.

"You're blushing?" France pushed.

"Fine! I might... like him a little bit, but it's really not a big deal." I tried to play casual.

Spain smiled, "You haven't crushed on someone for a long time. Actually, I don't really remember if you ever have." Well there goes it's causality.

"It's because he hasn't," France said. "Anyone he's been with was simply for the looks." He shook his head sadly. "Never genuinely in love."

"Hold the phone," I objected, "It's not love."

"I didn't say it was."

I pursed my lips, "I'm not capable of love."

"Oh stop acting to emotionless Prussia," France scolded, frowning, "Everyone is capable of love."

"He's right," agreed Spain, nodding, "It's what makes us human."

I shook my head, "I haven't been feeling much of it."

France put a hand on my shoulder and sighed. "It'll make sense when it comes." I wouldn't admit it, but these guys made me feel better, like taking weight off my back. They reassured me when I was in doubt and encouraged me when I needed an extra push. We all helped each other out. That's why we stayed friends for so long.

"We'll see what happens," I concluded and changed the subject. "Anyways, how're your countries doing?"

Spain responded first, "We've been prospering. We haven't got any enemy's, so war isn't a problem. This alcohol we're drinking is rather new. I wanted to show you guys." His evergreen eyes glinted, asking us for our opinion.

"I like it's sweetness, like nectar from honey suckle" France commented, brushing a long blonde hair away from his eyes, "Are grapes the only fruit in it?"

Spain nodded, "White grapes."

"We should visit my country," France suggested, "We can get more wine."

I looked at my wine glass, then to the bottle. We already went through a bottle and a half. Alcohol goes fast.

"Hell, let's visit Canada's country!" I hollered.

France's cerulean eyes lit up, "I've been meaning to visit him lately."

"I can give you guys a lift," Spain offered, "But I have to go home, Romano is probably worried."

Me and France groaned in unison. "C'mon Spain," I tried convincing him, "Can't you come with us?"

"Yeah, I'll provide you with more tomato plants!" France bargained.

Spain laughed, "I'll pass. If I'm gone too long, chaos happens. Maybe next time Amigos."

I nudged France, "Looks like we're on our own."

We did the one thing that drunk people aren't allowed to do. We left the house, drunk off our asses, with the rest of the sherry Spain let us keep. I knew darn well it wasn't a good idea, but what's the worst that could happen?

Yeah, what's the wurst that could happen? Holla holla, Bad Touch Trio in the hooouse! Oh my God, horrible things will happen.

Sail where the winds let you, my children.