It'd been a while since the pandemic had begun, and - like most other nations - Portugal wasn't exactly loving the lockdown arrangements; at the dawn of the outbreak, the nations had been instructed to only allow direct neighbours into their homes, which later lead to the rather rash executive decision to group together countries to be temporary roommates, as to allow socialisation, while halting the spread of Covid-19, UN had explained to the world.
Needless to say, living with Spain was not ideal for Portugal. The pair irritated each other, due largely to past... disagreements, and general personality clashes, which would eventually lead to the bizarre situation Portugal now found himself in.
"Portugal, we're out of soap!" Spain had yelled at him only hours earlier, as she stepped out of the bathroom and glared at him.
"No we're not! I put a bar in there earlier!" Portugal had retorted, pointing to what was clearly a fresh bar of soap beside the sink.
"That's the wrong type! I told you I hate lemon!"
"Well, we're in a pandemic; that was all that was left. It really isn't a big deal, Spain: soap is soap."
"But lemons are horrible; they're so sour... and they don't smell anywhere near as nice as other fruits!"
"They do the job we need."
This argument had continued for at least ten minutes to no avail of either party, leaving Portugal even more exhausted and irritable than before.
Until he was struck with an idea, a master plan for revenge after the Soap Scandal of that morning.
He was now in the process of completing his mission, having visited almost every online shop known to man, almost all of which so far had guaranteed him next-day delivery. Smiling to himself, he shut off his phone, picturing Spain's face when over a hundred lemons arrived on her doorstep! That'll teach her for being pedantic.
That evening passed in relative peace, though a slight bitterness appeared to linger in the air around the house. Nevertheless, both of the duo kept their mouths shut, Spain tired Portugal's errors and Portugal more than ready for the next day to arrive. The first of the deliveries was due at 8 o'clock the following day, so not too long now, he reminded himself, barely keeping a straight face as he visualised the Spaniard's* reaction.
*[as far as I'm aware, 'Spaniard' isn't derogatory, but if I am incorrect, I am extremely sorry!]
As promised the first package presented itself as 8:03a.m. the following day.
"I wonder it that's my new hairbrush arriving?" Spain murmured, rushing to the door and retrieving the parcel. Grinning, she tore open the wrapping, grasping for her brush's sleek, lightweight handle-
"A lemon?! PORTUGAL, WHY IS THERE A LEMON HERE?!"
"Well, you need to get used to them eventually! And don't forget the other seven in there!"
"I-"
About an hour later, the second batch was delivered.
Two hours after that, the third.
30 minutes later, the fourth was delivered.
The fifth and sixth arrived simultaneously, around 45 minutes shy of sunset.
This cycle of lemon-collecting continued for days, until the final lemon arrived three days after the first, completing the list of 102 fruits Portugal had ordered in total.
"What is wrong with you?!" Spain shrieked, staring at the inside of her two largest kitchen cupboards, now solid walls of yellow, devoid of anything but lemons.
"When life gives you lemons, Spain..." Portugal grinned, laughing slightly more loudly than he anticipated.
"...Make lemonade." she sighed. "...Or a cocktail."
"So what are you waiting for? I'm thirsty!"
"I'm not making you lemonade, Portugal."
"Cocktails all round it is, then!" Portugal grinned cheerfully, setting out a pair of cocktail glasses on the dining table.
"I hate you sometimes."
"I know you do."
YOU ARE READING
Countryhumans Oneshots #2
FanfictionWelcome to my second oneshots book! It'll be quite chaotic here, as this series of stories takes a look into the lives of countries worldwide (and questions their sanity in places!). As this is a continuation of the previous oneshots book, it's run...
