The first few hours of your shift go by without a hitch. It's busy, so you don't get much of a break to stop and think about your interaction with Ivan that morning, or much of anything else for that matter. It's so busy that you haven't even been able to say much to Alfred, except for a short greeting. He's working his tail off bagging for as many lanes as he can, but no matter how busy it is, he never fails to give each customer a huge grin.
Several times a customer has commented to him how busy it is, and they shake their heads in amazement that he can keep up. To this Alfred always replies, "Its because I'm the hero!" with his signature smile and thumbs up.
Feli isn't here today, though, because he asked off. He mentioned something about going to visit his brother, Romano, today. His brother goes to a different college in another city because, according to him, he can't stand his happy-go-lucky brother for long periods of time. Romano's decision to go to a college in a different city made Feli quite sad for a while, but now he uses it as an excuse to take off of work.
The two of them are brothers, but they're nothing alike. If Feli is always happy, then Romano is always grumpy. You've met Romano a few times, and you can't say he's your favorite person in the world. Feliciano always goes on and on about him. It's Lovino this and Lovino that. Feli's the only one who can call Romano by his nickname and get away with it. Anyone else would get cussed out of the county.
Your thoughts are interrupted by Ludwig. "You can go on your break now (y/n)."
"Alright. Thanks Germany!" You've gotten better at remembering when to call him that and when to call him Ludwig.
He smiles at the use of his more formal name, and walks away. You smile as you walk towards the clock to punch out. Ludwig should smile more often in your opinion. You walk into the empty break room after you punch out. You open your locker and pull out your purse. Then you sit at a table and grab your phone. Since it's a cheap old thing, it's not a touchscreen, and you have to slide it to reveal its keyboard. You do so only to find you have a text.
It reads:
Hello there (y/n). When do you get out of work?
-Ivan
You smile and enter his number into your contacts. You debate whether or not to put hearts next to his name, and decide against it. You don't want to be one of those people. You quickly type out a reply and hit send. In a few moments your phone buzzes with Ivan's response.
He sent:
Alright. I'll see you then, da? ^J^
You giggle at the emoticon he sent. That face suits him very much. The way he uses punctuation and good grammar in a text is also very Ivan. You can barely contain your excitement thinking about Ivan picking you up. You're still lost in thought when you punch back in after your break. The store is much quieter now, and you allow yourself to daydream about Ivan. You don't notice Arthur talking to you until he starts to yell.
"Hey (y/n)! Listen when someone's talking to you, you git!" Arthur exclaims.
You give a start as you snap out of your daydream. "W-what?" you stammer out.
"I asked," Arthur explains in an exasperated tone,"what's on your mind tonight. You've got the look on your face that Matthew gets when someone brings home maple syrup."
A smile tugs on the corners of your lips when you imagine the scene England is describing. The youngest of the four brothers, Matthew, or Canada to most, has a strange love for maple syrup. Not the cheap stuff that's mostly corn syrup, but the real deal that's made out of tree sap and all. Once you were invited to his birthday since you know his other three brothers, and you didn't know what to get him. Based off what you'd heard from his brothers, you assumed syrup would be your best bet. When you arrived for the party the first thing you did was ask to use their kitchen. When it was time for presents you walked into the kitchen and brought out a steaming, freshly made stack of pancakes you had whipped up, dripping with maple syrup. Matthew had almost passed out when he saw it. He liked it so much that you had to make another batch for him and pour the rest of the syrup you brought along with you on it. Now every time you go over to play video games with Alfred you have to make Matthew a big stack of pancakes.
"(Y/n)!" Arthur yells again to get your attention. Your mind had been wandering again. "Honestly, what's wrong with you? I know you're not the strongest tea in the bag, but I never thought you were completely hopeless."
"Hey!" you say in response to his teasing. "I've got a lot on my mind. That's all."
"And whatever could be so important that it makes you space out like a bloody space cadet?"
You roll your eyes at Arthur's comment. "Well Iggy," you use his nickname to tick him off, "I've met someone recently."
Now it's Arthur's turn to roll his eyes. He's never been big on romance. "Who?"
"Somebody," you say not trying to give it away.
"It's not that guy from the party, is it?"
You don't get a chance to answer because suddenly there are people in your line waiting to check out. It's a few hours before you and England get a chance to talk again. By now the store is almost dead, and it's gotten dark outside.
Arthur turns around to talk to you. He's in the lane ahead of you, so sometimes when he's not looking you throw crumpled up paper at him and keep track of how much gets stuck in his messy hair. Usually this earns you a high five from Alfred, and a death glare from Arthur. "So you never answered my question."
"Which iiiiiiis?" you ask drawing out the last word to annoy him. Arthur hates it when people beat around the bush.
"Who is this guy?" Arthur demands starting to lose his patience.
"Since when do you care so much?" you say as you wiggle your eyebrows suggestively. Arthur hates anything that resembles someone mocking his eyebrows.
England begins to turn pink, then red, as he fumes next to his register. "Just answer the bloody question," he growls.
You sigh and do as you're told because you know it's not a good idea to push him any further. "It's not official or anything," you say trying to identify exactly what kind of relationship you and Ivan have, "but I've run into that guy from the party a few more times, and so today I gave him my number." You try to say it as nonchalantly as possible to avoid a bigger freak out than you know is coming.
"WHAT? Are you bloody mad? Do you even know who this guy is? I told you to avoid him. I've seen blokes like him before, and you don't want anything to do with them. Why didn't you listen to me?"
You patiently wait for Arthur to finish his tirade. It could've been worse you think to yourself. You look at the register clock and realize it's 7:00, which is when your shift ends. You close your register with a sigh and begin to walk to the break room to grab your stuff. Usually Arthur's rantings don't get to you, but this time you're pretty upset. What does he know about Ivan? Who is he to tell you what you can and can't do?
"(Y/n)!" Arthur calls. You turn and take a few steps in his direction until you're standing near his register. "Be careful. You don't know what this git wants from you."
"His name is Ivan," you inform him, "and he's the sweetest guy I know. You can take a few pointers from him on how to be a gentleman!"
You turn quickly and walk away, leaving England with his mouth hanging open in hurt and surprise. After you punch out, you grab your stuff out of your locker and make your way to the doors to leave. You don't look at Arthur as you pass the registers, and he does the same. If he's mad at you, fine. He's the one making wild accusations.
When you exit the store you look around for Ivan. You don't see him anywhere. Then you spot a large bouquet of sunflowers. You recognize them immediately because you had been admiring them in the floral department earlier this week, thinking that they remind you of Ivan. Strangely enough, these seem to have sprouted feet.
Feet clad in heavy, brown boots.
Ivan's head appears from the left side of the flowers. "Over here (y/n)." You practically skip to Ivan's side with a bright smile plastered on your face. He hands you the beautiful bouquet. "Sunflowers for my sunflower."
You accept the flowers and adjust them on your arm so that you can see where you're going, and Ivan. "Thank you Ivan. They're lovely."
"Just like you, da?"
You blush and cannot come up with anything to say in return. Ivan gestures with his hand and gives a little bow to indicate you can start walking. Turns out you weren't lying about Ivan being a gentleman. You nod your head once in response and begin to walk. He falls in step next to you, and the two of you walk toward your house in a comfortable silence.
A few moments go by before you become aware of something slipping into your hand. You look down and see that Ivan has interlocked his fingers with yours and is gently holding your hand. You quickly look up to his face. He's not looking at you, but you can see a slight pink color dusting his cheeks as you pass under a streetlight. It seems that your Russian gets embarrassed about your relationship as much as you do. You then realize you referred to Ivan as 'your Russian'. Can you call him that even though you're not sure what your relationship status is?
You decide those things don't really matter right now, and give Ivan's large, gloved hand a squeeze. He looks down at you and smiles, which you return without hesitation. Unlike this morning, you find that you don't need to fill the silence with words. The quiet suits Ivan just as well as happy conversation. You shift the large bouquet of sunflowers into a slightly more comfortable position. The smell coming off of them reminds you of sunshine and warm weather.
The two of you turn the corner to your street. Ivan slowly releases your hand when you reach your front door. He turns to you and hands you a foam box. You recognize it as a box from the deli at the grocery store where you work you can use to purchase food. He must have bought all these things for you while you were working and manage to check out without you noticing. "I got dinner for you. I know you didn't get lunch because of me, and I thought you would be hungry."
This causes a huge smile to appear on your face. Ivan really is the sweetest person you've ever met. "Thank you so much Ivan."
"Anything for my sunflower." He lifts his hand to scratch the back of his head nervously. "I was wondering, (y/n)," Ivan begins, "if you would like to go out with me sometime."
"Like a date?" you ask hopefully.
"Um, yes," he answers. "A date."
You frown slightly and say, "I don't know." He looks crestfallen at your indecision. All of a sudden you break into a grin. "Of course I will, Ivan! I'm just teasing."
Ivan then breaks into an equally large grin. "Good," he says, "I'll call you later, da?"
"Okay," you respond. You feel warm and cozy despite the chilly fall weather. You can't remember a time when you felt happier.
"Alright then. Спокойной ночи (goodnight) (y/n)."
"Goodnight Ivan."
Ivan slowly turns, with one last look at you, and walks off into the night.