"Poland, can I ask you something?"

"Yeah, anything, shoot!"

Lithuania took a deep breath and squared her shoulders. "When you said I could come stay with you in Warsaw, were you being serious?"

Poland's heart squeezed and leapt what felt like a foot out of her chest.

"Totally serious, come whenever you like!" she said, like it was no big deal.

"—soo!" Poland bounced down onto the sofa and patted a spot next to her. "That's the house! What do you think?"

"It's lovely!" said Lithuania, sitting. "And so tidy, I'm impressed."

Poland made a movement like elbowing her in the ribs but without actually making contact. "Heeey you, what's with the tone of surprise? I do actually do my own chores these decades!"

I spent most of this week getting the house ready.

"Sorry, sorry," Lithuania said and smiled back, "old habits die hard."

"Okay, so what else. There's, like, food, obviously… You eat normal stuff, right? And, we've done towels and things, but if you run out of clothes or whatever you should borrow mine…"

"Poland!" Lithuania interrupted. "I'm fine for clothes, really! Anyway, I don't think I'd fit yours."

"I might have some bigger things," Poland started before blushing red, mortified. "I meanbecause taller, you're taller than me—"

"It's fine, I'm fine," Lithuania said again. "It's really kind you've thought of all this, but I'm sure I'll be able to cope with whatever your apartment throws at me."

"OH, wait there is one thing, you might have do a weird thing with the shower if it runs out of hot. You have to turn it all the up to 10 and then off again and then wait a few minutes."

"That's alright," Lithuania said. "I take mostly cold showers anyway."

"What, why?"

"Wakes me up!"

Poland eyed her suspiciously. "Is this is some like proving you're tough, masochistic thing?"

"Those… are different… concepts, Poland," Lithuania said, shaking her head in return. "And, no. Just to wake up. Anyway, it's not so bad, and you're always saying how tough you are—you must've coped with cold showers before!"

"Well, yeah, but not by choice, you weirdo. Those weren't fun times, the only time you'd want a cold shower is if you were like crossing the desert. With a bear."

"And you're calling me weird!"

Poland stuck her tongue out, just a centimetre, because: childish but not that childish, right? "Yep."

"I'm not sure if it will be possible, but if it's alright with you I can ask my end. Maybe—could I stay for the weekends?"

"Whatever works for you, dude. I've got another room, so I could just take all the stuff out of it and, I dunno, put it somewhere so you could stay there whenever you're around."

"I'm really sorry to be putting you to all this trouble."

"I don't mind! It'll be great to see you more and stuff. Anyway I've gotten so bored doing my own cooking and cleaning all the time!"

Liet I'm joking. Liet that was a JOKE.

Crap.

At first, Poland watched Lithuania carefully. Trying to figure out why she was here. Poland stayed up reading until late until she was sure Lithuania was sound asleep next door and not in the grip of some distressing night terror, some phantom out of the past. That was the sort of thing she had expected, some sort of reason Lithuania didn't want to be alone. It was flattering that she had chosen Poland to help with this, even if she wasn't confiding in her.

But nothing like that happened, and things at home began to feel as if this was normal, or: the kind of normal on a picture postcard—which is to say nothing normal at all, aglow, every moment picked out in bright colours, every meal a ritual. Poland looked at the clock and thought with joy in her heart, Now it's a whole hour we can talk without running out of things to say.

"And, you can tell me to leave any time you want your study back. It's not like I'll be staying forever or anything!"

"Ha." Poland smiled manically. "No, of course not!"

"I just need a bit of time, to get my thoughts together."

"The style really suits you," Lithuania said enthusiastically.

Poland shook her head back and forth to make her hair swing in a satisfying way. "I mean it's pretty similar to how it was but it's just nice to get it neat again."

"It looks so silky and shiny."

"Yeah? Aw, thanks. That's the good stuff they use at the hairdressers I guess, almost worth all the stress…"

"Your hair always looks nice and soft."

"Yeah?" said Poland again. "It's just cream rinse, I dunno." She combed her fingers through.

—you could touch it if you like, she thought, we could sit close together and you could like stroke my hair that's a thing people do isn't it, that would be—all this time and I don't braid your hair, why don't I know how to touch you anymore—

"—want to have a feel?" she gabbled.

"What?"

"Touch my hair, look!" Poland scooted her chair sideways and thrust her neck out, almost head-butting Lithuania. "See? Soft!"

Lithuania awkwardly patted Poland's hair a couple times. "Uh, yeah," she said. "Very soft."

Nice going. Very smooth.

It's just that:

I like you inordinately, she thought, letting the word and the concept roll luxuriant around her mind. And I know I'm using that word wrong, but it feels right. I know it should mean that I like you more than is reasonable, but I don't think that's possible, at any rate I don't feel it. I think you're worth every bit of love I could muster up and more.

It's just that. That's all it is.

One weekend, Poland had to work flat-out, reading over papers and making notes to fax on Monday morning. She felt awful, and worse because, technically, theoretically, she'd been putting this off all week. But it was soboring.

"You don't have to keep me entertained," Lithuania said, for the umpteenth time.

"Yeah, but, we didn't do last week, and before that you had all your work, and we were going to go see the leaves, and now I'm going to be just sitting here like a lump while you're here! I'm such a failed friend, I'm sorry."

"Hey. Poland. It's alright. Just do your work, don't worry about me. Would it help you concentrate if I sat in the same room and read too?"

Poland nodded miserably. "That probably would help. Thanks, Liet."

Periodically, Lithuania went to the kitchen to make them both tea ("This is going to sound rich coming from me, but you should watch your caffeine intake."), and then dinner.

At quarter-to-midnight Sunday night, she bookmarked her page and switched off the lamp by her armchair. "Alright… I'm going to bed now."

"Mmhm."

"Will you be okay? Don't stay up too late…"

Poland forced herself to look up from the page. "Heh. Nah. I'm… nearly sort of nearly done."

"That sounds good." She walked over to the Poland at the table and gave her a loose hug. "Get some sleep, Po."

"Mmm! Sure. You too."

Poland finished at around 2.30am, and then went to the kitchen and made doughnuts for Liet. This seemed the logical thing to do at this point and Liet definitely liked doughnuts. If anyone asked, she was just practising for February.

It took about four hours, including rising time (during which she napped on the sofa and set an alarm) and syringing jelly into each one.

Nothing changes:

I like you inordinately, she thought, hugging herself and feeling tight and squeezy inside, I like you so much, but I hardly know you anymore, so what do I do?

Another day, Poland walked into her living room to find Lithuania crouched in front of the television, directing a stream of profanities at the VCR.

"—oh for God's sake—stupid piece of… I said… No, don't reset the clock, why would you do that? OH MY GOD stop being so shit, why are you so shit?"

Poland spluttered with giggles. "Sorry Liet, I'm not laughing at you, except that I am, but you should see your face… Dude, what has my TV done to bring down your wrath?"

Lithuania sighed. "It's just being a piece of shit! I'm trying to set the timer and it's just ignoring me!"

"Wow, how rude of it. Okay, well, have you tried looking in the manual?"

"What? What manual?"

"I think it came with," Poland said vaguely. "It's probably in the instructions drawer. I'll go look."

"You have… an instructions drawer?"

"Oh, yeah. Somewhere. Or it might have been a shelf or under a bed. I definitely had a place. I'll go look."

"Don't worry—couldn't you just show me how this stupid thing works?"

"Oh, I don't really know, I hardly use it. I'll look in the instructions drawer"

Lithuania suddenly sat back and laughed aloud.

"Whaat, what's funny?"

"Hahaha, no, it's just that you've said instructions drawer about five times, that's funny."

"Yeah?" Poland said, starting to grin herself. "Instructions drawer. The Drawer of Instruction."

"The Drawer of Instruction. Sounds like a not-so-epic quest."

"Or, it might be an instructions shelf. The Shelf of Instruction," Poland continued, to make Liet keep laughing, "the Bookshelf of Truth. The Filing Cabinet of Obscure Numbered Diagrams. Under-the-Bed of Knowledge."

"Oooh, the Bed of Knowledge," Lithuania echoed and raised an eyebrow. "Scandalous!"

"Lieet!" Poland giggled delightedly, then plopped down beside her on the floor. "Okay well honestly I forget where the instructions receptacle whatever-it-is is so my system doesn't entirely work. But maybe I can just apply Poland rule and command this."

"You make it sound like you're going to perform an exorcism or something—actually that's probably about right… stupid, demoniac machine…"

"Whoa." Poland made a gesture of calm. "Don't defile my holy aura here. Ahem: VCR, I abjure thee…"

She was sure to take a few tries to get it right.

Poland turned the dial on the shower down to 3.

Not so bad she says, she thought, this is going to be like torture, this is a trial!

She put her head under the water. Ah! She squeaked and grinned hugely as the cold tingled her scalp and turned everything to goose flesh.

I love you, she thought. I love you i love you i love you.