You're awake, but not really. Darkness still covers your vision. Your head rests on something warm, and it rises and falls slowly. You feel at peace, and try to drift into sleep again. Warmth brushes along your back, drawing you to open your eyes to the morning. The first thing you see is Alfred's dreamy smile, and his ruffled blonde hair. "Mornin', Skater Girl." he sighs.

You smile back at him. "Mornin', Blondie." You slowly push yourself up, a little surprised to find yourself fully on top of him.

He adjusts himself and leans against the sofa where you had both fallen asleep last night, yawning loudly. "You gonna start crying again?" he asks, half-joking.

You roll your shoulders back, as they hurt slightly from the unusual position they were no doubt in as you slept. "I think I've no tears left." you admit.

Alfred chuckles softly. "Yeah. I believe you." He looks over at the sunlight streaming in from the east-facing windows. "Want some breakfast?"

You blink in surprise, but your stomach gives him an answer, much louder than you anticipated, reminding you that you hadn't eaten since noon... yesterday.

Alfred laughs. "I'll take that as a yes." He gets up from the sofa and walks over to the kitchen, leaving you behind, blushing like mad. You hear him rummaging around for things in drawers and cabinets, then finally opening the fridge.

"What are you making?" you ask curiously, sitting on your knees to look up over to back of the sofa.

He sends you a lop-sided smile. "Pancakes. Canada taught me how to make them. And I usually don't burn them." he adds.

You roll your eyes. "That's reassuring." you sigh.

Toris enters, fully dressed, from the hallway. "Mr. America? Are you sure you don't want me to cook? You know what happened last time."

Alfred stops half-way pouring some flour into a bowl. "Well, no permanent damage was done..." he says slowly.

You giggle. "What happened last time?"

Toris grins at you, apparently happy to tell others about America's mistakes. "He set an empty bag of flour on fire. There are still scorch marks on the counter."

"Anyway" America interrupts, his face a shade or two redder than before, "I'm more observant now and that won't happen."

You get up off the sofa and walk over to him, trying to hide laughter. "Right. That explains why there's a stick of butter melting on the stove."

"What?!" Alfred looks back at what he was doing and groans. "Uh... why don't you go get dressed, (Name)? There's a bathroom down the hall, second door on the right."

You grab your hastily packed belongings and sling it over your shoulder. "Alright. Don't kill anyone, okay?" you tease.

"Yeah, yeah." he grumbles, trying to clean up the melted ingredient off of the stove.

You smile at him one last time before heading down the specified hallway. Several doors line it and windows left in a good deal of the bright sunshine from outside, and with rather expensive looking rugs and paintings covering the expanse, making it hard to believe that Alfred lives here. Then again, Toris does, too. That's probably why everything's still intact. You find the bathroom quickly and close the door behind you. This also decorated fairly well, at least by the standards you're used to. Glancing at yourself in the brass-lined mirror, you see the horrendous state of your hair. The wind of the ride added with the doubled tangles that come from sleeping on a sofa make it rather unpleasant sight. You rifle through your bag, pulling out a clean set of clothes and your brush, then get to work on taming that (h/c) disaster. After fixing it as best as possible, you strip off the ,muddy , grass-stained outfit from last night and pull on something fresh. In all, you estimate this takes about thirty minutes, mostly due to your hair's tendency to be uncooperative.

With everything stuffed back into your bag, you open the door again, this time welcomed by the pleasing aroma of maple syrup and hot pancakes. Stepping back into view of the kitchen, you see Alfred hectically trying to cook (and only slightly failing), while Lithuania advises him on how to not burn down the mansion. You can't help but smile upon seeing that. It reminds you of what life used to be like, when you were a lot younger. It brings a new wave of happiness. Yeah, I could get used to freedom.