(F/N) = First Name
(L/N) = Last Name
(Y/n) = Your name
(H/c) = Hair color
(B/n) = Bunny name (You have a stuffed bunny)
(Y/n) woke up from a light slumber. A second was spent questioning why she was awake, and then the jiggling of keys in the door was heard.
Father was home.
(Y/n) jumped out of bed, and pushed a chair against her bedroom door. Sometimes he came into her room…When he came home this late—her clock read two a.m. right now—he was angry. He had been drinking that gross stuff that makes him mean and angry—he called it a lot of different names, like beer or vodka. But it was all the same, it all turned him into a monster that hurt the three-year-old.
She was smart enough to realize when he smelled and came home late, she was usually hurt.
But not always. Sometimes he wouldn’t come into her room, just head straight to bed. Or if he did come into her
… Matthew Williams, the most nice, shy, and invisible, not to mention syrup and pancake loving, Canadian.
Quietly opening, closing, and locking the door, you walked down the streets, thinking of places where your quiet Canadian friend was. He could be in the park or at his house. Perhaps even at the market to buy more pancake ingredients and/or Canadian brand maple syrup.
Shrugging, you decided to check the park, where he enjoys to relax and spend nice days like this one.
❤Time Skip Brought to You by Canada Showering in Maple Syrup While Sexily Dancing❤
You arrived at the park’s iron gates, welcoming anyone and everyone in. You darted in, now determined to find Matthew.
After walking around and checking
Sleepovers with Matthew and his brother Alfred always proved themselves to be eventful.
Whether or not that was a good thing, you’ve yet to decide.
“Matthew, help! Your– brother– is– choking– me!”
“C-C’mon now Alfred, let _____ go, it’s just a movie–”
“NO! Oh god, DO NOT OPEN THAT CLOSET!”
Having completely disregarded Matthew’s attempts at making Alfred let you go, the American instead chose to grab onto Matthew too, ensnaring him in his death grip in his fit of fear.
Why did you accept their invitation for a sleepover again?
Because of Matthew.
Not saying it like it’s a bad thing, but your longtime, shy Canadian friend Matthew was someone you happened to harbor feelings for; and due to these feelings, you usually wanted to be around him, a
You hated camping, you really did. The whole, "No civilization, no toilet and no warm house" thing didn't appeal to you. Nor did the whole "Copious amounts of bugs every where."
You weren't an outdoors person. But that didn't matter, your crazy family dragged you along anyway. To a crappy cabin in the middle of the woods. For Two months.
If you forced yourself to be optimistic, you would be glad that it was a house instead of a tent. You might have been happy that there was a bathroom. But you weren't, so you didn't.
"Awww, if you feel so grouchy, why don't you go for a walk?" Your mother piped up, opening one of the boxes that held kitchen items. You looked out the kitchen window, it was dusk, slowly going dark. What a wonderful idea.
Deciding to punish your parents, you left through the back door. All you had to do was become "Lost" for an hour or so, then saunter back home. That would teach them and freak th
"It's Mattie. You know, your little brother?" You said sourly, looking for the invisible nation. Alfred blinked a few times before sweatdropping.
"Oh yeah. Sorry." He said. You finally managed to find Matthew, sitting in a corner, cuddling Kumajiro.
"Come on Mattie. It's me and you." You said quietly. He looked at you and blushed.
"O-Ok..." He said, standing up and leaving his little bear on the seat. You were both shoved into the closet and had the door slammed in your faces.
"Don't get too frisky!" You heard Alfred yell.
"Sorry about this _______..." Matthew said, shifting about in the small space.
"Its fine Mattie. I don't mind." You said, smiling at him. He looked at you and smiled back. He then looked at the ground and began kneading his fingers together, something you thought was really quite cute.
"Ummm _______?" He asked. You could see the blush darken on his face.
Maybe you can argue that you’re courageous or bold, and sure, that can help make confessions easier – but truth be told, there’s always that split second of panic as you anticipate their answer which can either bring you a sense of elation or send you into the comforts of your home, guzzling down your favorite ice cream with your broken heart keeping you company.
And so, confessions are difficult.
But when they’re unintentional…
Whispered ‘I love you’s heard by the wrong ears, heartfelt letters that land into the recipient’s hands a bit too early… there are far too many ways for a confession to go wrong when someone does it by accident.
Although, it’s not so bad when you’re receiving a confession – albeit accidentally – from someone who adores you just as much as you adore them.
Especially when the confession is
"Hurry up guys I'm about to have to go get him!" You ordered as you watched all the countries busily trying to put up last minute decorations.
Today was your best friend's birthday and you wanted it to be completely special for him, especially since most of the other countries always either forgot he existed, or they confused him for his brother, America. You stood in the center of the room watching all the other countries helping out, even your older brother, England, who was the world's worst about forgetting Canada.
"I don't know what the bloody big deal is," England mumbled as he helped France put up a birthday banner.
"Lighten up Angleterre (England), you're just mad that you 'ave no one under you," France said smirking as he glanced across the room at where you were standing.
"I still have _____________ frog face!" England said glaring at him making you sigh.
"Will you two please stop it?! This is Canada's special day and I don't want it ruine