Chapter Text
He was jostled rudely onto the train, the flood of people streaming in like a tidal wave. It was rush hour, and to say that the train was tightly packed would be an underestimation. Getting a seat on the train for his aching legs was a faraway dream. I wish I was taller. America grumbled as he strained and tiptoed to look at the train map above the heads blocking his way. When will people stop coming in? He frowned. America was quite a complainer. To his absolute dismay, the people continued pushing and shoving their way in until they were crammed like sardines in a can. He was pushed onto the opposite side of the train with the sheer capacity of people stuck together.
“The train will be moving soon. Please stay away from the doors.”
The doors hissed closed and with no fresh air coming in, the smell of sweat hit him full on in the face. The train jolted to life, and unprepared for the bump, America was flung harshly against someone. He was pressed against a broad-shouldered man, wearing a lavender-coloured shirt and a fur-lined jacket. He smelled nice. Who the hell wears a jacket on such a hot day? And heck, why is he so tall? America barely reached to his shoulders.
Tired from a day of working and endless commotion, the American pressed his nose against the chest of the country he was leaning against, breathing in the crisp smell of wildflowers and snow. The fur tickled his nose. So soft. The flowery scent was a pleasant contrast to the stale air of the train. No one would notice anyway, everyone was stuffed too tightly together that leaning against people was common. He has nice cologne, I’ve gotta ask him for the brand. But he kept quiet, not wanting to disturb the tired peace of the public train and too exhausted to formulate a question.
America’s eyes were just beginning to close when he was jerked awake. He stumbled and stepped on the man’s shoes. “Sorry!’ He yelped and tried to right himself, arms flapping and elbowing a few people who grumbled in response. “It’s okay.” The bigger man rumbled and shifted to support him. He sounded really familiar. America’s face took a reddish tint. But the gentle lulling of the train slowly took over him and he found his eyeslids drooping. His head dropped slowly, almost unconsciously rested on the man's chest again. Sleep seemed delicious. The last thing that he recalled was that intoxicating smell of wildflowers.
He was awoken again. But this time, it was the ringing of the train bells. He stood on his two wobbly legs and glanced at the sign. Shit I missed my stop. I gotta take the train back now. Bruh. The person he had been leaning against didn't seem to have moved. Was it because of me? By then, there weren’t many people on the train. So. He had no excuse for falling asleep on the chest of some stranger. Fully awake now, America flushed and took a step back, avoiding eye-contact with the stranger. Shit was I drooling? The American unconsciously brought a hand to his mouth. He could feel his piercing stare on him. It was to his utmost relief when the train doors opened with that familiar hiss and he made a quick escape. It was as the train doors almost closed when he caught a glimpse of his ‘train pillow’. His eyes opened as he flushed in shock. Why? How? He kept staring at the doors blankly, even after the train had whizzed off. He stared numbly at the black tunnel where the train had been as passerby stared at him. He was quite the figure, with his mouth gaping open, in a rumpled suit that looked almost blue under the harsh fluorescent lights.