When you woke up the next morning, you saw America sitting in front of the television the hotel provided. Though, you weren't sure why he even bothered with the thing; it held a total of seven different channels, most of which were ancient movies that never aired anymore. Sitting up, you heard a matter-of-factly tone of voice coming from the screen. Rubbing the drowsiness from your (color) eyes, you blinked a bit and let your vision clear. On the screen was a man dressed nicely, standing in front of a map of the area. The numbers were high, around 75 to 80. He was watching the weather report, to your utter surprise. He never watches the weather. You grew concerned for your friend's health as you crawled out from under your covers.
"Morning, America. Is something wrong?" you asked, getting out of bed before moving towards the blue eyed boy, who remained staring at the television. In his eyes, the reflection of the she gleamed, as well as from his spectacles.
He waved a hand lazily towards you. "Yeah, I'm fine. I was just seeing if we were going to need a ride before or after, in case it rained on our costumes," he explained. Your eyes widened to the size of dinner plates, replaying his comment in your head a dozen times. He... was planning ahead? And he was actually thinking about something other than himself? Cautiously, you snuck over to him, stretching your finger out and poking the side of his head. When he didn't respond, you pulled your hand back, palm now showing, and gave him a good smack to the side of his head. "Ow! What the hell, _____?!" he cried, holding his head. "Are you trying to give me brain damage?!"
You let out a sigh of relief. "No, I was just making sure your 'aliens' didn't abduct your brain while you were asleep," you gave a pleased grin before turning on your heel, heading towards the bathroom. As you did, you heard America grumbling incoherent words of some sort, though you couldn't decipher them so quickly.
When you returned, you saw America lying on the bed, playing on his iPhone, most likely on Facebook. He was on that site as often as he could be. You sat beside him on the bed, watching the flashing colors on the television screen with little to no interest.
"So, what are we supposed to do until the party?" you asked your friend. He shrugged, putting his phone down before sitting up.
"Well, we can go get breakfast for a start. And talk about it then," he suggested, a small smile on his face. The thought of breakfast did peek your interest, so you went into the bathroom with a change of clothes and your beauty supplies. After fixing yourself up a bit, you smiled at your reflection. Your (color) eyes went quite well with your (color) (type) shirt. And of course your worn-looking denim shorts finished the look well. You remembered that today was going to be a good day, so you were preparing yourself with confidence.
Before you two left, you walked over to a small glass jar that lay on a small nightstand. You leaned over slightly, letting the end of your nose gently touch the middle of one Chamomile, your precious gift from Russia. Inhaling the beautiful scent, you let a happy sigh leave your lips, as if the aroma of the flowers washed away the bad feelings. They were truly beautiful plants, and you were pleased you were able to give Russia his own flowers in return. America called your name impatiently, and you quickly followed after him, excited for what was to come.
Russia slowly woke from his deep slumber, a relaxed smile on his face as his droopy eyes opened. The room was darkened by the closed curtains. Sitting up, he let out a content sigh, which showed clearly before him as a small cloud of fog. The hairs on the back of his neck and on his arms were erect against the freezing temperature of the room. Russia had left the air conditioner on last night, and the thermometer on the wall beside him read just above10 degrees; however, that was the way he liked it. He never liked waking up in the morning to a warm feeling, it made him feel estranged. After all, he grew up in subzero temperatures and unforgiving winters. Waking up to sunshine and warmth just wasn't normal to him.
