Details/Notes: Ah, my favourite summer of love pairing again. I love them so, so much it hurts sometimes. So adorable, so fuzzy-flashback-happy, and so incredibly doomed. Disclaimer can be found on my profile. Please review!


Learning Curves:

Lithuania can't forget the past, even when he tries so hard to.


"I can't believe how late congress kept me, I mean, really, can't those idiots get anything done without spending five hours going back and forth and back and forth for no good reason?" He can't help but wince at the tone of America's voice, normally light and breezy, now risen in thinly-veiled anger.

"It's okay," Lithuania murmurs, wringing his hands into his apron and lowering his head, "I wasn't waiting too long."

"It's not okay. I said I would be home, and then they all just started talking, practically listing off everything they think is wrong with me, on and on and on, without once suggesting something that could actually change things, and now the dinner's probably cold, isn't it?"

He flinches away from America's angry sigh, and practically runs for the kitchen, saying as he turns, "I'll warm it up now. It's, it's really okay, though."

His fingers are frozen and lethargic as he busies himself about preparing America's plate. He tries to count his blessings, and reminds himself that he is not with Russia, and that America is different, but he knows that angry tone, deep inside himself where he can't get it out, and his heart is still lodged in his throat when he sneaks back into the living room.

He freezes momentarily at the scene he walks in on.

His feet resting on one arm, and his head pillowed on the other, America is sprawled across the room's solitary sofa. His tie is undone, resting on his chest like a snake, and the truly startling thing for Lithuania is that America has his eyes closed, his glasses off and dangling from between his teeth like a cigarette.

He doesn't stir as Lithuania tiptoes farther into the room, and it's only when Lithuania is right next to him that he stretches, arching his back like a cat, and opens his eyes.

Lithuania trembles suddenly as he's met with that unfocused, blinking stare, blue eyes not quite seeing him, and America's tired smile does nothing to slate his fear.

"I, I, I brought you a p-plate," Lithuania manages to stutter.

He gets a wider smile in return, and the rhetorical question, "What would I do without you?" He can't bring himself to speak, and so he merely holds out the plate a few inches farther, waiting for America to take it.

His heart beats loudly in his ears as he does so, reaching out halfway and then laughing so suddenly that Lithuania nearly falls to the ground in fright.

"Duh," America exclaims, hitting himself on the forehead, and plucking his glasses from his mouth.

Lithuania watches in as close as he can bring himself to fascination as America puts them on, and stares up at Lithuania through the lenses, eyes suddenly as clear and focused as the sky. He feels his mouth drop open, and America quirks a smile at him.

"What?"

"Aren't. Aren't those just for show?" Lithuania asks quickly after he gathers his courage, and America merely laughs again, this time more of a giggle, pushing all the lingering exhaustion and anger from his body.

Lithuania swallows, and sighs, feeling tension drip from him as well.

"Nope, um," America finally answers, looking somewhat nervous, grin faltering and stare becoming nearly manic in its intensity, "But you can't tell anyone that! Well, England knows, duh. But he only ever mentions it when he's mad at me. Says if I was really all that I'd make it so I could see properly. Which is stupid, because I can," he hastens to add, "As long as I have these."

He taps his glasses, and Lithuania realises then that he's smiling.

"I won't tell," he promises quietly.

America grins blindingly up at him again, before sitting up and finally taking his plate, saying, "Did I tell you how awesome you are yet, because you are."

"You're too nice," Lithuania replies, feeling himself begin to blush.

"Just telling the truth."

America digs into his food, and Lithuania does nothing more then watch him eat for untold minutes as he tries to sort through the myriad of emotions he's felt in the past half hour.

He eventually sighs shakily, catching America's attention in the process.

"Hey," he questions, "Did you eat already?"

Lithuania smiles nervously. "I'm fine. You just enjoy yours."

"How am I supposed to enjoy my food when you're over there starving?" America asks, as though it's the most simple thing in the world.

Lithuania hesitates, and rather than waiting for him to reply, America just scoots over on the sofa, and reaches a hand up to pull him down so that they're sitting next to each other.

"We can share," he proclaims, and Lithuania nods to avoid making a scene.

"Did you have a good day?" America asks him, and when Lithuania goes to answer he's met only with a mouthful of potato from America's fork.

He blushes, barely managing to chew and swallow as America giggles once again. "It was nice, I like working here," he finally says when he finishes, "I'm sorry your day wasn't as good."

"No big deal, really," America says with a wave, face darkening so briefly that Lithuania would have missed it if he weren't watching so closely. "Just congress, y'know?"

"Not really," Lithuania admits.

"Believe me, you aren't missing much. But, um, I hate when they keep me late, because that means I'm missing you. Which totally sucks."

Lithuania lets out a little laugh, all nervous energy and veiled relief, and America's eyes are on him just that fast, asking without words.

"Nothing," he says with a shake of his head, "You just reminded me of someone."

"Not Russia," America protests instantly.

Lithuania laughs again, stronger. "No. Definitely not him."

And it's true, because the smile America gives him then is unlike anything Lithuania has seen before.


End.


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