I Don't Believe It's There: PruCan

Baby Bird's Aren't the Only Thing That's Cute

Prussia's (Gilbert's) POV

I was woken by the light streaming through the window. It caused a pain, like a nail hammered into my skull. I groaned and rolled over, only to fall on the floor, causing further pain. I'm not sure why my body hasn't gotten out of that habit yet.

I tried to register my surroundings, but couldn't understand where I was, so I laid on the ground, shielding my eyes from the light. After about 10 minutes of contemplating my life, I sat up, only for a wave of nausea to hit me. I spotted a conveniently placed trashcan by the couch and grabbed it before I could heave on the floor. Sticking head in the can, my stomach lurched and I began throwing up, the sour taste of bile washing over my tongue. Now I remember why I never drank any of Spain's wine.

After I finished, I wiped my mouth on my sleeve. I looked at where I was and began to panic. This wasn't Spain's, France's, or my house... so who's house was it!? What happened last night? I examined my surroundings, light yellow curtains to the left of the couch, with a porch behind the sliding door, a flat screen tv in front of the couch in a tv drawer with a multitude of DvDs below it. To the right was a kitchen and dining room.

I froze when I heard footsteps coming from the hallway that split the kitchen and living room. I scrambled around, looking for a weapon only to settle with a closed umbrella. When I saw it was Canada who popped his head around the corner, I relaxed, putting down the umbrella.

He gave a cute little wave, "Morning Prussia!"

Suddenly, I was hit with flashbacks from last night. I kissed someone. France? Not again. But... France doesn't have glasses...

I looked at Canada and felt my face grow red. I... kissed Canada. "Oh God," I groaned out loud. This excitement wasn't good for my stomach.

"Prussia, you okay?" Canada's brows creased into a frown as he walked up to me, "Your face is turning green."

I grabbed the trashcan and vomited again, my stomach knotting up. I felt Canada's hand on my back, comforting me with the little circles he was making with his fingers. Once I finished, I looked dizzily up from the trashcan. He handed me a napkin, "They were next to the trashcan."

I wiped my mouth thankfully and asked, "Is this your house?"

He blinked, astonished I asked the question. With that, he went into a fit of laughter. "Of course it's my house you ditz, ahaha!"

My face grew warm again, "Don't make fun of me! You have some of those nights too, right?"

He shook his head, still laughing, "I never drink that heavily!"

Despite my hangover, and despite the teasing from Canada, I wasn't irritated. Actually, I found myself chuckling along, laughing at my stupidity as well. "Sorry I gave you a rough time," I chuckled, ruffling his hair a little bit.

There was a light pink hue on his cheeks, but I assumed it was from the laughing. "It's okay. It was funny how you and France were fighting over me. It made me feel important."

"Me and France what?" I stared blankly. A memory of me and France threatening each other with slippers and umbrellas came to mind. "Oh yeah." I laughed nervously. What other dumb things did I do?

"Anyways, do you want any stomach pills? Advil?" Canada asked.

"I'm fine," I lied.

Canada glanced at the trashcan then back to me. He made quotation marks with his fingers, "Yeah, 'fine' my ass. At least have some water."

Now that, I could agree with. I shakily got up, Canada helping me up. I rolled my neck to find a little tweak to it, wincing at the slight pain. "Hey? You alright?" Canada asked again.

"Nothing, just a little crick in the neck," I dismissed, rubbing the sore spot on my neck.

"I shouldn't have let you sleep on the couch," sighed Canada.

I nudged him lightly, wiggling my eyebrows suggestively, "Then where would I sleep, hm?"

"Pervert."

"You're not denying anything." I teased, nudging and wiggling my eyebrows more so.

He playfully shoved me, barely moving me. "Shut up," was all he said.

I snickered in reaction, but obeyed. We entered his kitchen, Canada getting a cute maple leaf cup and filling it with water. I was given the cup and I slowly drank it, trying my best to avoid upsetting my stomach again. A thought went across my head. How the hell was I going to fly back to Europe in this condition? I could stay here and wait a day; Germany wouldn't mind, even if he didn't know.

However, Germany doesn't feed Gilbird, and I left him there all by himself. "Canada!" I almost shouted.

Canada jumped, startled at my sudden outburst. "What is it?"

"I have to get home."

"Why do you look so worried?" Canada frowned.

I brushed my fingers through my hair, stressed, "I took a baby bird in for care because he fell out of his nest. No one's at home to take care of him."

Canada patted my back, "Grab your jacket and we'll go." He paused. "I'll grab a bucket too."

With that, we were off.

..:;:;: thginot evol eht leef uoy naC :;:;:..

Although I threw up at least 3 times over the flight and probably wasn't going to ride another plane for a long time, I got there before any serious harm was done. It was still early morning in Europe, so anyone who had been awake, hadn't been for long.

Canada entered the house with me as I shooed the dogs away. When I finally got to my room, Gilbird was still in the same place as I left him, but peeping in annoyance. 'Why haven't you fed me?' He seemed to chirp, probably insulting me in the most creative bird ways a bird could.

I smiled, reminded by how cute he was. I scooped a small amount of bird food from my drawer and brought him out of his cage, putting him in the same palm as the one with food. He wasted no time eating. I held bits and pieces around his beak for him to eat, as he wasn't quite able to peck it off my hand yet. I petted him with my finger as he swallowed a berry and murmured, "Sorry I wasn't here earlier." He peeped in response then went back to gobbling up dried cranberries and sun flower seeds.

"Awww," I heard Canada coo in the back round.

"What?" I raised an eyebrow, facing him again.

"It's just that," Canada began, giggling to himself, "You're so adorable while feeding a baby bird."

"I am not adorable." I growl.

"Don't tell me a man feeding a baby bird is not adorable."

"It's not adorable because it's me."

"Now you're just being absurd."

"Brother!" Called Germany from the kitchen, "Is that you?"

"Yeah!" I responded, grateful that the whole 'adorable' conversation was interrupted. Even if I did like the attention from Canada, I was in no way adorable.

Ah, I won't update everyday because of time issues. One chapter takes about two hours to make, and I barely have that amount of free time in my daily life. Sorry for the inconvenience.

Also... raise your hand if you also think Gilbert's adorable...

Ride the winds babe

... Holy Fuck, you guys are going to shit yourselves on chapter 11