Overlooked, Canada's path, part 1(ReaderxCanada)

This is a continuation of a story, this is the first chapter on Canada's path. A link to the intro is in the description.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” A (h/c) haired girl asked the man sitting on top of me. He didn’t answer. “Seriously, you’re sitting ON TOP of another human being!” She tried again. Nothing. Is he ignoring her? My eyes grew wide as she lightly hit Russia’s shoulder.

“Who did that?” He asked, his calm, but creepy, smile plastered on his face.

“I did! Now get off of Canada!” The girl practically yelled, he didn’t respond though. I watched in horror, as the girl, who now looked very angry, grabbed a hold of his scarf and pulled. I saw the scarf land on the floor, and felt Russia tense. He looked around with a terrifying gaze, eyes looking straight through the perpetrator. He muttered something in Russian before he got up to retrieve the treasured piece of fabric. As he did, I hurriedly stood up. I looked at the girl, my eyes wide and mouth agape.

“Why did you do that?” I asked her.

“That’s what friends do.” She answered, a gentle smile on her face. “Now come on Matt, I saved a seat for you." But I don’t even know you… I followed her anyway, curious to why she was acting so pleasantly towards me. The girl sat down, and just as she had said, there was an extra seat next to her. As she started making small-talk, I tried not to show my confusion, and awkwardly returned the friendly gesture.

                                                                                  

“So, Mattie, want to go get coffee?” She cheerfully asked me after the meeting was over. I absentmindedly nodded, while I once again wondered how she knew my name. I didn’t say much as I followed her out the building and into a coffee shop close by. I noticed that she had been smiling the entire time I had been with her, she even smiled pleasantly at the girl behind the counter as she took her order. 5 minutes later we were sitting at a table drinking our coffee.

“Why are you so quiet today, Matt? Is something wrong?” She asked, sounding concerned.

“No, not really… I was just wondering, who are you?” Just after the words had left my mouth, her eyes widened in realization, a hurt expression evident on her features. She put down the cup, that still contained half a cup of coffee, and got up from the chair.

“It doesn’t matter…” She mumbled, voice shaking, tears forming in her eyes. Before I could say anything else she was gone. Even though I wasn’t entirely sure what was going on, I felt incredibly guilty. I left the place, venturing outside to find the girl whose name I didn’t even know, but for reasons unknown to me, seemed incredibly important.

                                                                                   

   We now leave Canada in hopes of finding out what’s going on

As soon as the coffee shop was out of sight, you started running. You just wanted to get away. How could this happen again? You silently screamed. But you knew it would. A voice reprimanded you. Just like the other times. Tears were flowing down your cheeks in a steady stream, but no one even glanced at you. They can’t see you (Y/N). They don’t care. Just like him. It couldn’t be true… No! You argued with the voice. He’s different, he’s not like the others.

You refused to believe it, yet you knew that Matthew would never pull such cruel a joke. Then why did he forget you? You couldn’t answer that question. If he’s so special (Y/N), why does he not remember? I told you not to get too attached, but did you listen? You were still running through the unknown streets of the foreign city. You really are pathetic.

You let out a frustrated scream, but no one heard it. The people around you kept going about their everyday business. Who would even want to be friends with you? You don’t matter, you never have. No wonder no one can see you. You tried to block out the voice, but you couldn’t. You knew it was telling the truth, and even though, deep inside, you knew that the one saying these awful things to you, were none other than yourself, you couldn’t make it stop. You turned a corner, your feet taking you further and further away from the lively city center.

When Canada had started talking to you, you tried telling yourself that befriending him was a bad idea, that it would end up like the other times. Still, you couldn’t quite shake the thought, that maybe it wouldn’t, he understood after all, he knew what it was like to not be seen, maybe this friendship could last? I should have known. It had lasted a long time this time around, at least you got to have a friend for 24 years. 24 years were more than the other times.

You still remembered how for years you couldn’t even look at a scone without crying after the 1940’s. Arthur’s scones had been terrible, but he had made them for you, now he didn’t even know who you were. And as crazy as it sounded, you missed his god-awful scones, you missed the way he always got mad after he had messed something up, and you missed how he eventually, although reluctantly at first, let you help him. You weren’t sure you had the strength to go through that again, one thing you were sure of though, was that you were never going to befriend anyone ever again. It just wasn’t worth the pain. Three times had you done it, and three times had you ended up forgotten, overlooked as more important matters, more interesting people, had demanded their attention.

Eventually, you reached a small street devoid of other people. You stopped near the stonewall of a small abandoned-looking house, you sat down on the cold but soft grass, and pulled your knees to your chest. With your head buried in your arms, you cried your heart out for the loss of your friend, for the loss of the only man you had ever loved, and for the loss of the opportunity of ever telling him.

                                                                                                                    

Canada’s POV

“Alfred?” I tentatively asked my brother after the follow-up meeting the next day.

“Matthew? When did you get here?” He inquired, a surprised look on his face.

“I’ve been here all along… But that’s not important, I want to ask you something.”

“Sure dude, what is it?”

“Do you know who that is?” I gestured to the location of the (h/c) haired girl I had been unable to relocate the day before.

“Who?” He asked.

“The girl over there, next to Denmark and Sweden.” He squinted and took a closer look at the people standing a good distance away.

“Sorry dude, I don’t see any girl.”

“The one with the (h/c) hair, Alfred, she’s standing right next to Norway now.”

“Oh, her!” He suddenly exclaimed. “I have no idea who that is.”

“Oh. Never mind then, thank you.” I said, slightly disappointed. As I was about to turn around and leave, he added: “She’s probably a European country if she’s with all the Nordics though. Why don’t you ask France or England?” Why didn’t I think of that? While feeling somewhat stupid I went to locate France.

“Mathieu! Nice to see you here.” Turns out I was located first.

“Yeah, good to see you too Francis. Do you know who the (h/c) haired girl standing over there with the Nordics is?”

“Straight to the point, huh?” He asked, raising an eyebrow. “She is pretty cute, but shouldn’t you already know who she is?” I looked at him questioningly. “Why do you look so confused? You’re the one who’s always talking about her.” I’m what? I don’t even know her name. “Okay, okay, I’ll help you out, I think you told me once actually. Just give me a minute.” While France tried to remember, I threw a glance in the direction of the mysterious girl, only to find her (e/c) already on me. She quickly averted her gaze, but I didn’t miss the sadness evident in her beautiful eyes. It was weird to see her so sad, she was always so happy. Wait, how do I know that?

“The Faroe Islands, that’s it!” France loudly exclaimed, earning a few confused looks from the surrounding countries. “Good luck.” He added. I awkwardly stared at him for a while.

“Eh, thank you.”

“You’re welcome, now go get her!” He gave me a slight push as I turned around and left, and I heard Francis say something about how he believed in me or something like that. I should have asked Arthur... But something told me that it was a good idea that I didn’t, I had a weird feeling that England and this girl, who supposedly represented the Faroe Islands, were connected somehow. The more I thought about it, the more I was sure that I was right, and I slowly developed feelings of anger towards the Englishman, I didn’t know why though.
Subconsciously I had moved towards the girl, and as I stood in front of her, I could fully see the sadness and grief in her (e/c) eyes.

“What’s wrong?” I asked her. But my question only seemed to make it worse.

“You.” She said, tears welling up in her eyes again.

“I don’t understand.” I told her.

“You promised.” Her voice mirrored the sadness so clearly seen in her eyes. I couldn’t think of any reason why she should be lying, but that would mean that I knew her, and well enough to promise her something, a promise that I had apparently broken.

“Please tell me who you are.”

“I told you yesterday Matt; it doesn’t matter. I don’t matter...” She had said the last part so quietly that I almost didn’t hear, I probably wasn’t supposed to.

“It matters to me.” And it did, the fact that I didn’t know why, seemed less important at the moment, I just wanted her to smile, I couldn’t stand to see her like this.

“Then why did you forget about me?” Her voice came out a whisper.

“I don’t know...” I mumbled, this seemed to surprise her. “I don’t remember you, but I feel as if I should. Please explain it to me, if you can that is.”

“You really want to know?” Her voice was full of disbelief. I nodded and smiled slightly at her.

“Of course.” She started to walk out of the room, and gestured for me to follow. As soon as we were out of the conference room she turned to faced me.

“No one will disturb us here, they’re to busy yelling at each other.” I nodded. I heard the girl let out a sigh before she continued. “I’m (Y/N).”

“The Faroes.” I interrupted, she looked at me, eyes full of hope.

“You remember?”

“France told me.” I admitted, her hopeful expression was replaced by one of disappointment, and I immediately regretted saying anything.

“Oh, okay. Anyway, now you know who I am... I don’t know how to explain this, or if I even should.” She looked at the floor. “This probably isn’t a good idea...” She mumbled. “You don’t remember anything right?” She asked me, gazing into my eyes. I shook my head and returned her gaze. Before I could register what was going on, her right hand had found it’s way into my hair and her lips were on mine. I slowly brought my arms around her waist and returned her affections. It felt right, I had a feeling that this was something I had wanted to do before. I felt like I really did know her, and I knew that she had been telling me the truth, I had broken a promise, but somehow I would make it right again, I would find a way.

                                                                                                                    

I hadn’t seen (Y/N) since that day, it had been almost two weeks and, as cliché as it sounds, I couldn’t stop thinking about her. I knew that there was something she wasn’t telling me, I had a feeling she wanted to tell me too, otherwise she wouldn’t have bothered to try to talk to me. At least that’s what I told myself. But why didn’t she? Was she afraid of something? I needed to know. I absentmindedly picked up my phone. Maybe Francis knows something else. I knew that it was a long shot, but I needed to know. 

As I scrolled through my contacts to find his name, my eyes widened, there, right above his name was another contact; “Faroe Islands”. How had I not noticed that before? So I really do know her? I went into the contact and saw a picture of her smiling, holding a familiar polar bear in her arms.

I exited my contacts and entered my photo album, it felt like a stupid idea, but maybe, just maybe if I had a picture of her doing something, I could remember being there with her. I scanned through my photos and quickly found what I was looking for. I smiled at the picture, she was standing in a kitchen, no, scratch that, she was standing in my kitchen, next to a batch of what looked like scones. She looked rather cute as she stood there, smiling proudly with flour in her hair. I miss her baking. I thought, my eyes widened, so maybe I hadn’t entirely forgotten. They were in there, all the memories, but for whatever reason, they had been stashed away. I decided to call her, it couldn’t hurt could it? At least I managed to convince myself that it couldn’t.

“Hi?” Her voice sounded unsure, nervous even.

“Hey (Y/N), I was wondering if you’d like to come over and bake something?”

“Sure!” She answered, now sounding a lot happier. “I’ll be there in 30 minutes.”

“Great, see you then.”

“See you.” She hung up the phone, and a feeling of nervousness washed over me.

The sound of my doorbell startled me as I sat in my own thoughts, contemplating my actions, I really hoped this was a good idea. I slowly walked through my house and opened the door. “Hey!” She happily said, before giving me a big hug, it startled me, causing me to tense up. “I’m sorry.” She said, looking at me sheepishly. “Old habits die hard you know...”

“It’s all right, come in.” She stepped inside my house and I noticed the sadness return to her eyes, I liked it better when she was smiling, she had a gorgeous smile.
She took of her jacket, and I had to remind myself that she had apparently been her many times before, when she already knew where to put it. “Let’s get baking.” (Y/N) said before she grabbed my hand and pulled me through the house to the kitchen.

                                                                                                                    

“Why did you invite me here?” She asked, halfway through a batch of blueberry muffins. 

“To bake.” I replied. She laughed a little at my comment.

“I know, I got that. It’s just, you don’t even remember me, and then two weeks ago I suddenly kiss you and then just walk away. I didn’t think you’d want anything to do with me.” I turned my attention from the batter.

“I want to remember you, (Y/N), you seem really nice, and I enjoyed drinking coffee with you, even though I had no idea who you were.” I looked into her eyes before I continued. “About the other thing, I was pretty confused, but I figured you had a reason for doing so. Besides...” I stopped my rambling before I said something embarrassing, and averted my gaze.

“Besides what?” She asked me.

My cheeks turned a deep shade of red before I replied: “I liked it.”