The Matfred Chronicles: Spirit
The Matfred Chronicles
Chapter 3: Spirit
Rating: PG (because it can get confusing)
“Americans, by far, have more spirit than you Canadians will ever have!”
Canada snorted a mild sign of disbelief. “Please! Canadians are way more spirited than your people and you know it.”
The two brothers had been discussing the matter over breakfast, in between forkfuls of eggs and bacon. (America talked regardless of whether food occupied his mouth or not.)
“Prove it!” America commanded through a mush of food.
Canada smirked slyly. This wouldn’t be hard at all. “Take me, for example. Everything I do is a representation of the Canadian spirit.”
Another mouthful of egg and bacon departed his mouth in a gulp. “So…every single thing you do is something that shows the Canadian spirit?”
Canada nodded; no question in his mind that it was the truth.
“That means…that every time you hold hands with me…it’s Canadian sprit?” America reached across the table and took his hand in his.
Canada’s peach colored face turned white at the true realization of his explanation.
America knew he had just made Canada regret what he had said.
“And…when we kiss,” here America touched his lips to Canada’s nose. “…that’s Canadian spirit, too?”
Canada never replied. America got out of his chair and knelt down on the side of the chair containing Canada.
“When you touch me and hug me…When you say you love me…” his voice whispering against Canada’s ear. “Are those actions part of the Canadian spirit, because that’s how spirited America is!”
Canada didn’t believe America knew what he was trying to prove anymore. His brother’s words were numbed and useless; they didn’t mean anything at all. Yet, by the same token, they made all the sense in the world.
A soft hiss of a whisper. “Yes…” and then America held Canada closer to him, sliding him from the furniture and placing him onto the floor
American hand in Canadian hand.
American tongue in Canadian mouth.
American hands around Canadian waist.
American sighs. Canadian groans.
The food growing cold, untouched.
The rest of the day dragged on normally in the sense that nothing of extraordinary importance occurred. The topic of spirit didn’t return until nighttime darkened the sky.
“Remember what I said about Canadian spirit?” Canada mumbled to the form beside him.
“Yeah?” America shifted himself so he faced Canada.
“I was wrong. My actions don’t display Canadian spirit, they show my spirit.”
America raised an eyebrow at this statement. “Isn’t that the same thing? You are Canada, Mattie.”
“I know, but not everything I do is the Canadian spirit. I mean, I am my own person.” His arm wrapped around America’s neck. “Not all Canadians are like me, Alfred, “he continued softly. “Just like not every American is a hamburger-obsessed loud-mouth.”
America slipped the arm off his body. “Hey!” he pouted, “That’s not a nice thing to say…”
The arm returned to his neck, despite America’s removal. “I’m just trying to make a point, Al,” he whispered, “The Canadian spirit is influenced by me, but I am not the spirit entirely.”
“Okay, Mattie. Whatever you say,” America’s voice slurred with sleep. He pecked Canada’s lips and went on to kiss his lover’s eyes close. “Go to sleep,” he breathed.
After both had wished their good nights, America pondered Canada’s proposition- that, in a nutshell, his spirit and the Canadian spirit were different.
Yet they were the same.
Just like how flowers were different, yet the same.
Two hamburgers sitting on a table were different, yet the same.
People were different, yet the same.
They were different, yet the same.
America pictured a line of people staring straight ahead. Everything they did reflected their own personality, but at the same time, it reflected their families, their ethnic groups, and every group they are a part of.
Different, yet the same.
Did their relationship follow the same principle? The two of them weren’t the love, but they did reflect upon it daily.
America, with half-lidded eyes-stroked Canada’s waves of gold.
Funny how such things could be expressed in simplistic, yet complicated ways.
This chapter is one of the many chapters amongst my multiple fanfictions that kind of just created itself without any concrete planning done beforehand to control it. It’s more philosophical then past chapters, but certainly not lacking any romantic elements.
Next keyword: Maple (Suggested by MeowChan16)
~Curlee1029
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