Tales of Colombia

Breakfeast and Waiting

America woke up in a start, the feeling of insecurity consumed him as he reached for his glasses, Texas, that were lying in the nightstand right next to his bed. The sound of sizzling bacon echoed through the halls of his apartment, even though America was all alone. It could not be Canada or Colombia, since Canada would ask first before visiting his brother, and Colombia would have drawn on his face before making a huge racket.

America lived alone in a small but quaint apartment in his capital. He had an apartment in all of his main cities and he stayed in different ones all throughout the year. Unlike most of the other countries, he chose to not live in a one single location, or have his house be a giant villa. He preferred the simple and small lifestyle. Plus he also preferred to have to live in a single room with the people he loved, then to have to live in a huge house all alone.

There was a reason why the American dream was to have a nice house house with a white picket fence in the suburbs with your wife two kids and a dog. So far the closest he had gotten to that dream was having the dog. Not that America had not had past relationships. The truth was that he had dated a lot of other countries, ALLOT of them. There had been Mexico, Russia, Belarus, Ukraine, South Korea, Vietnam, Japan, Argentina, China, and Lithuania to name a few. Some relationships ended peacefully, while others not so much.

The smell of breakfast started to consume his house. Thinking that it might be a ghost wanting revenge for dying during his breakfast, America quickly grabbed his wooden baseball bat from behind his bedroom door. Being as quiet and heroic as possible, the world super power nation made his way closer to the kitchen. Soon he stood right behind the kitchen door, where he heard the "ghost" humming a brutal song while cooking. Great all he needed was a bloodthirsty ghost that could cook. The door creaked as he opened the door to reveal,

Mexico

His old lover was standing there in his kitchen, wearing his "Kiss the Cook, Kill the Eater" apron while beating the scramble eggs brutally. His black hair covered his brown eyes as he continued on humming his song even louder, as if it would cause America to disappear.

"Dude! What are you doing in my house? Again!" asked America as he placed his bat down.

"Oh hello gringo, Want some eggs? I promise I did not poisoned this batch, maybe." said the Latin nation as he placed a plate of golden eggs in front of America. Mexico completely ignored the question that he was asked, he petered to sit down on the kitchen table with his own plate of eggs and bacon. America's stomach began to growl as the delicious smelling bacon called for him. He soon gave into his hunger as he began to eat.

"Hmm..uhm what are..slac..you.flppp..doing..crunch..here?" Asked America in between bites of the food Mexico had put out for him. America did not mind having Mexico make him his breakfast. Truth be told he rather liked it when someone else made him his breakfast, but he would much rather not be worried about getting food poisoned on purpose.

"Idiota, did the Eyebrows bastard never teach you any manners? I'm here because I wanted to take care of my kids while you are away."

"You already take care of your children, I don't know why me being in your house, which is never, affects that."

"I wasn't talking about my other children, I was talking about, unfortunately, OUR children. You know the ones that sprung from the earth after our blood was mixed together and absorbed from the ground."

"Whoa whoa whoa. Who said anything about me leaving them alone, much less in your care. I would leave California, New Mexico, Texas, Nevada, Utah, Colorado, Arizona, and Wyoming with their older siblings, or in the worst case with my brother." replied America, his nostrils flaring as he pushed the table away from him as he got up.