Out of the Snow

Chapter 8

Russia's POV

It had been hours since he had moved, sitting like a pillar on the edge of the bed, and carefully eyeing the door. Yes, he was a little stiff, but at the very least she was safe. Russia's eyes glanced behind him, taking in the peacefully sleeping Canada. She hadn't moved in a while, but he was certain she'd wake soon, since it was almost 8 in the morning. After he had...taken care of Belarus late the night before, he found that he was unable to sleep and instead occupied himself by sitting on the bed, and arranging a few surprises for Canada.

Russia wondered if the first one would get here on time, since he assumed being a girl, Canada would take a while to get ready for the party. The dress she had made, and Belarus had ruined, had been taken by one of the Baltics who had been ordered to get it fixed.

"But....its all torn....there's no way I can...." He had stuttered at Russia, who glared at him, caring not that he had woken him in the middle of the night, or for the lack of skills that he had. All that mattered was making her happy, and he had thought that maybe fixing the leftovers of her hard work would do the trick.

Russia couldn't help but thinking about the second surprise he had whipped together, and about how the surprise in question would be at the party tonight. Regardless of his wishes that Canada stay in his house, he knew that at some point she'd leave, and perhaps never come back. In fact, that scenario was almost a guarantee, after all no one had ever willingly stayed with him for longer than a few months, aside from his sisters. Russia would never admit it out loud, but he felt an odd connection to the sleeping girl beside him. Somehow, looking into her eyes, he connected with the isolation in them. He knew how she felt, to be invisible to everyone, to be forgotten. He remembered well the many days and nights spent at the dinner table alone, with no one to laugh, cry, or fight with. In the days before he became so strong, he had been in a similar situation to Canada, he too had experienced the loneliness that winter wrought upon the lands.

He looked to her again, blonde hair spilled out behind her on one pillow, while her arms were wrapped around another. She was beautiful, kind, intelligent, all while still holding onto innocence, whether she realized it or not. Without thinking about it, he leaned over and stroked the silky strands of hair. He started to pull away, when her steady breathing hitched slightly, and her blue eyes opened and focused on him.

"Good morning, winter flower, how are you feeling?" He asked her, feeling a warmth spread in his face. He wondered if his scarf was tied too tight around his neck. She seemed amused by this.

"I'm...well enough," She answered, sitting up and stretching, her hand passing over the Band-Aids on her cheek. It made her frown slightly, and Russia could see the memories of the previous night flickering in those eyes.

"Do not frown, today is a day to celebrate."

"I...I suppose so, but I have nothing to wear for your nice party tonight. And I know it's supposed to be nice clothes....and all I'd have was my sweater and jeans....if I could find them, and I wouldn't want to ruin your party by wearing those things." Canada told him, casting her eyes to the wall and didn't seem interested in looking at him. He smiled as a bright red blush colored her cheeks, her shyness is very...what is that word...

Cute.

"Do not worry, I will take care of everything." He said to her, and watched amusedly as her blush deepened a little.

"I...I don't want to put you out of your way...it's fine. I mean you must have so much things to prepare for the party..." He shook his head as she spoke.

"No need to worry, there are many people in the house to help with that. But enough of that, I will go and see that breakfast is ready, you may want to change."