Matthew worked quietly and quickly in the kitchen of the cabin as he carefully poured the pancake batter onto the skillet. As he did so, he could hear footsteps trudging through the hall and turned just in time to see Shelby appear in the doorway, her dark brown curls a mess and her blue eyes still heavy with grogginess.
Canada smiled. "Good morning, Shelby! How did you sleep?" He asked as he glanced back and forth between his guest and the cooking food.
Shelby glanced up at him, sitting down at the counter as she rubbed her face. "I actually didn't. I was up 'til 3 stargazing." She admitted. She blinked her eyes, trying to keep them open as she smiled. "The sky here is magical, so dazzling." Shelby explained, and Canada blushed, satisfied that she was impressed by the night sky that could be seen over his nation.
"I'm glad you..." He trailed off as he noticed Shelby itching her arm, possibly out of reflex. Her tan skin was streaked with blood, and his eyes widened in fear. "What's wrong with your arm?" He urged, his tone concerned, but his voice barely came out as a whisper.
Shelby's thin eyesbrows furrowed in confusion as she glanced at her arm, and examined the small, bloody scabs decorating her skin, before her eyes trailed to her red-stained finger nails. "Matt... they're mosquito bites." She stated, unimpressed. "You act like I'm about to die or something."
"It just looks painful." Canada pointed out softly, flipping the pancakes.
"Bro, you were in two world wars. Let's not be dramatic." Shelby chuckled.
"Sorry." Canada stated, although there wasn't anything to be sorry about. He brushed some butter onto the pancakes, and slid them onto a plate, before pouring a fair amount of maple syrup on top. He slid them over to Shelby with a small smile. "Here you go. Let me know if you want anymore." He said, turning to prepare the next batch for Alfred.
Shelby eyed the pancakes warily. "I'm actually not that hungry." She stated, getting up to leave.
"What? But you're American." Canada exclaimed in disbelief, turning to face her. "What's wrong? You don't like pancakes?"
"It's not the pancakes..." She began, "I... idon'tlikemaplesyrup." She muttered under her breath.
Canada looked confused at first, before he smiled gently. "I'm sorry, but could you repeat yourself? I don't think I heard you right, because it kind of sounded like you said that you don't like maple syrup." He chuckled slightly. But when Shelby only awkwardly looked to the floor, his smiled shifted into a frown. "You... don't like... maple syrup?" He whispered in disbelief.
"Yeah, it sorta makes me sick. Even the smell makes me a bit queasy." Shelby responded slowly.
Canada shook his head. "You just haven't had Canadian maple syrup. Here, you'll like it." He promised, trying to hand Shelby the plate of food.
Her face only paled slightly as she backed up. "Really, Matthew, I can't eat it." She pressed.
"Eat the pancakes." Matt whispered as he followed her, his face set in determination.
"I'm not eating the pancakes!"
"Eat. The pancakes."
"No! Leave me alone!"
"Eat the pancakes!" Canada shouted as loudly as he could. Shelby froze in fear- she had never heard his voice raised that high.
"ALFRED!" She shouted in alarm, taking off out of the kitchen. Canada raced after her, pancake platter still in hand. Even being a soccer player, Shelby couldn't shake the blonde country, who was around 5 inches taller than her and who's strides were much longer. On top of that, the smell the syrup was getting to her, and her stomach was starting to hurt, which slowed her down further.
After a minute straight of Canada chasing Shelby, trying to get her to eat the pancakes, America appeared in the entrance of the hallway in nothing but red boxers decorated with McDonalds 'M' arches. "What in the name of the Statue of Liberty is going on in- hey!" He didn't have time to finish his sentence as Shelby slipped past him, sprinting down the hall.
Canada, however, wasn't quite small enough to squeeze past Alfred as Shelby had, and ran straight into his brother, knocking them both to the ground. The pancakes and plate were crushed in between them, and Shelby reached the end of the hall, turning to watch as they struggled to collect themselves.
"Canada, what the heck, bro? You got syrup all over me!" America explained, before picking out a piece of glass plate from his skin. "Now I'll have to shower! This sucks!"
"I'm sorry, I was just trying to get Shelby to eat these pancakes." Canada whispered, licking the syrup off his fingers.
America's gaze switched to Shelby, who stood awkwardly at the end of the hall. She smiled, offering him a small wave.
"You're telling me that Canada was literally chasing you around the cabin, trying to get you to eat pancakes?" America asked, part in irritation, part in disbelief.
"Well, actually, I didn't tell you any of that. Matthew did." Shelby pointed out.
"Shelby, I-" America couldn't even stand and grab her, let alone finish his sentence, before Shelby locked herself in the bathroom. "Hey, wait! I have to shower and get this syrup off!" America yelled, pounding on the door.
"Don't come in, I'm naked!" Shelby responded.
"No, you're not! You just got in there!"
"But if you broke that door down, and I was naked... that would make you a pedophile." Shelby stated from the safety of the bathroom.
Alfred huffed in frustration, giving up and storming down the hallway. Canada's gaze followed him. "Where're you going?" He asked sheepishly.
"I'm going to spray myself off with a hose!" America snapped back, and within a few moments, Canada heard the screen door open and slam shut.
Quietly, Canada crawled to the end of the hallway, and sat in front of the bathroom door. "Shelby?" He called softly.
"Yes?"
Canada pressed his forehead against the door. "Please eat my pancakes."