Be My Valentine - 2p!Canada

                                    

                                          
(Requested by HannaBudder. Enjoy potato.)
                          
12th February xxxx
                          
"-the above solution is also a solution to the last two equations, therefore-" 
                          
Everyone's eyes were on the teacher who was explaining briefly about a Math equation. Except for a certain Canadian who's eyes were on you a few seats in front. Your long (hair colour) locks down pass your shoulders. It makes Matt wonder if someone beautiful like her has a lover yet. It would be depressing for him to know if she has one. 
                          
"Matt? Pay attention!" the teacher yelled, making everyone turned to you. And all he could do was snort. 
                          
. . . . 
                          
The bell rang which meant school's over for that day, and Matt waited for his idiot American brother outside. Kids were piling in the bus, a few riding their bikes, some walking back home and others waiting for either their mother or father or even both to pick them up. The Canadian spotted _____ walking straight back home. He really can't get his eyes off you even though for a second.
                          
"You planning on stalking that chick?"A voice so familiar to him snickered behind. The Canadian ignored him and began walking, Allen following him behind. 
                          
"You like her? Hm? Do ya?" 
                          
"Shut up, vegan," 
                          
"It's not bad to admit, Mattie," Allen chuckled. 
                          
"None of your damn business to know," 
                          
"I'm your brother, soooo yeah it's my business," 
                          
"So what?" Matt crossed his arms. "What if I like her?" 
                          
"I'll annoy you about her to death," 
                          
Matt gave an exasperated sigh. He kept on walking, trying to get his mind off the girl, and ignoring his brother's teasing which kind of made his anger boil. 
                          
"Matt likes a girrrl! Matt likes a girrrl! And he's gonna ask her to be his Valentiiine!" Allen smirked. 
                          
"Valentine?" Matt cocked an eyebrow. "When is Valentine's Day again?" 
                          
"Oh my veggie queen!" Allen face-palmed. "(Insert bad word) 14 February! Today's 12! 12! Nobody informed you?!" 
                          
"I don't care if they do or don't. I still don't like her," 
                          
. . . . 
14th February xxxx
                          
"Fruking moron," the Canadian muttered angrily. He woke up late all because of Allen. He changed the time set of his alarm clock. Matt ran fast to school, never stopping to catch his breath. Class is starting a few more minutes, so there's no time for him. 
                          
He arrived in school, ran to his locker, spinning the combination, piling his books and take a few stuff that he needed. He dashed to his first class, English, approaching the class in seconds, panting. 
                          
"Coming late, Williams?" the English preceptor gave a small glare. "Do that again and you'll get detention," 
                          
Matt rolled his eyes, searching for his seat. 
                          
Which was beside _____. 
                          
Perfect. Note the sarcasm. 
                          
Not to mention today's Valentine's Day. Whatever that is.
                          
Matt sighed and made his way, sitting on his seat, avoiding your gaze. 
                          
'Don't see her, Matt. Don't. Nu uh. Nope. Focus on the teacher,' he thought.
                          
After an hour of internal hyperventilating like Spongebob, first class is finally over, and he sprinted outside, searching for his brother instead, since he had Geography with him next. 
                          
"Hey, Mr. Grumpy!" Allen signalled to him. Matt snorted, passing the American and to his locker. 
                          
"So, did ya ask her yet?" 
                          
"No," 
                          
"Why?" 
                          
"Don't know, don't care," 
                          
"Nervous?"
                          
He didn't answer that. He closed his locker and waste no time going to the next class, Geography, Allen bragging about his Valentine instead. 
                          
"She's awesome, and fun, and cool-" 
                          
"Yeah, yeah, yeah, that's great," 
                          
. . . .
                          
It was your last class, yet nobody asked you to be your Valentine yet. It's been like that for years now, and you probably got used to it. A crumpled paper hit your head, and you looked behind to see someone mouthing 'sorry' at you. 
                          
His strawberry blonde hair was tied in a messy ponytail. He wore a simple red flannels with a pair of jeans and his eyes obscured by a pair of sunglasses. You looked back at the teacher before picking up the crumpled paper and unfolded it : 
                          
I was wondering if you'd be my Valentine, whatever it is. Though it's fine if you have one. I don't wanna disturb you or anything it's just that you're pretty and you know..stuff. 
                          
You giggled at the letter and hid it in your pocket. You paid your attention to the teacher, trying very hard to get him out of your mind. You looked at the clock on the wall in front of the class. 3:oop.m. 'Just fifteen more minutes,' you thought. Seems like an hour to you but you waited. 
                          
Meanwhile, the Canadian behind you was breathing at an abnormally rapid rate, nervous that you would reject. Good thing nobody noticed. The teacher was the focal point of the class, and that's really fortunate. 
                          
. . . . 
                          
3:16p.m. 
                          
'You can do it, ____' you whispered to yourself outside the school building. Everyone was walking outside, going home. And you were waiting for him. He finally went out, a not so familiar man walking beside him. 
                          
You cleared your throat. "Excuse me, may I speak with you?" you asked in a nice tone. The man beside him snickered and pat his back before walking pass you and him, waving with his back facing both of you. 
                          
"You were the one throwing the crumpled paper, weren't you?" 
                          
"Yeah," he mumbled. "My name's Matt, by the way," 
                          
"I'm _____," you introduced yourself. "I'm flattered that you gave me the paper," 
                          
"That's...good?" 
                          
You laughed lightly. "I don't have a lover. Never, actually. But we can go out sometimes. Today. Or today. And other times. But definitely today. Sorry," you apologized. "I have the tendency to splutter out nonsense sometimes," 
                          
"That's fine," he scratched the back of his head. There was only a few students left outside. "So...today?" 
                          
"Yeah, definitely," you smiled and held his hand. His cheeks were tinted pink by your action. "C'mon I know a good place. We can go there together!" 
                          
"Yeah," he gave a small smile, squeezing your hand with his and you both made your way.