Canada ran around the store, struggling to find wha the needed. 'How could I do that to America?!' He yelled in his mind. 'Why would I hurt the person I love?!' Canada was not sure exactly why he did it; something had snapped in him when he heard America walk through his house, thinking that no one was home. Because he could not fucking see him. Canada's anger burned again, but he composed himself. 'No,' He said, shaking his head. 'Keep your cool. You're supposed to say sorry,' He thought, grabbing some red, white, and blue flowers. "Surely these are his favorite," Canada thought a loud.
When he got to the check out line, the employee raised an eyebrow at the flowers. "Sir, it's March," She pointed out. "Not Fourth of July," She joked.
He scowled and handed her the money. "Whatever," He muttered, grabbing the flowers once again and hurrying over to America's house.
He needed to apologize. Nothing could excuse what had happened, but he hoped America could forgive him for doing wrong.
While driving, Canada could still remember that bloody night filled with tears and shouts of agony. At that moment, he was glad to have the super-power at his knees beggging for mercy. Now, all he could do was feel nauseated thinking about that night.
It was the worst night of his life. It haunted his dreams ever since the incident. His brain kept on nagging him to say sorry, but he could not bring himself to go up to America.
He was sure he would cry when he saw him.
Stopping infront of America's house, he climbed out of the car and made sure he had the flowers. They looked nice; maybe America would like them.
He lifted his hand to knock on the door, but hesitated. Should he really go along with this...?
Without a second thought, he knocked on the door. Loudly.
America peeked through the door and was startled by seeing the Canadian.
Canada wore a sheepish smile, and his eyes were nervous. He was gripping the flowers tightly, and he kept staring at him. "A-America...?" He whispered, making America sigh in relief.
Before, Canada could register what had happened, America pulled him into a tight embrace. "You're back to normal, Canada," America whispered, his voice surprisingly soft. His grip was tight on Canada, and it made Canada almost break down and cry.
Had he really hurt America this much?
Canada made a mental note that America had remembered his name and could actually see him. He teared up and hugged his brother back. "I'm sorry, sorry, sorry, America," He whispered, his vision becoming blurry. "I never wanted to hurt you," Canada sobbed.
America sighed deeply, and rested his head on top of Canada's. "It's okay, Canada," He said, pressing his lips to Canada's cheek. "I realize now that I was being stupid, so I kinda deserve what I got..." He quietly admitted.
Canada's sobs, however, did not seize. "You don't deserve it!" He exclaimed, choking on his sobs. He hiccuped. "I sh-should've never d-done that..." He said, shaking his head.
America tilted the Canadian's head up to see his beautiful eyes. "I love you," He whispered. "And, I truly mean it."
He pressed his lips to Canada's.
Canada gasped, and America inwardly smirked at this. He was definitely back to being himself.
After their little kiss, they spent the rest of the night in fits of passion.
Canada had never been to happy in his life to be able to call America his.