maple syrup drinker

———

“Are you sure you’re not cold?”

“It ain’t that bad, y’know. It’s gonna take more than a bit of snow to scare me.”

“How do you even know about the concept of snow? You’re a southerner.”

“Shut up.”

There was so little venom behind that retort that even a newborn snake would be disappointed. It was obvious that Texas was enjoying his stay just as much as he was trying to cover it up. Miraculously, he had mostly kept his complaints about the very not-summery weather and the lack of steak houses to himself; Alaska didn’t even know that Texans were capable of being quiet about anything. It couldn’t have been an easy feat for him, that was for sure.

Summer at the top of the world was…interesting, to say the least. It was cold, of course; not severely cold, but it would be unwise to go outside with no jacket. More importantly, the sun didn’t set at all for months on end. Case in point, it was eleven at night and still bright as day. While he hadn’t directly called it out, Alaska had caught a clear glimpse of wonder in Texas’s eyes at the sight of the midnight sun. Like a puppy discovering its first tennis ball. It was adorable, and also definitely on the list of things Texas would never admit to even at gunpoint.

It brought a smile to Alaska’s face—a real one this time, not just the usual sardonic smirk he wore when he made fun of the Lower 48. Every time he saw such spectacles in his own towns, they were underscored by a feeling of disillusionment. It would be inaccurate to describe them as empty or meaningless; it’s just that they never hit the same as for a first-time witness. At times, he’d feel guilty for being unable to appreciate nature’s miracles as much as he believed he should. Here he was, getting a front-row seat to phenomena that most of the world’s population would only ever see in photos, and it was just…business as usual to him.

But maybe that was the point of all this. If he couldn’t be stunned by endless daylight or divine auroras or the many other oddities to be found here, the next best option was to share it with someone who could. If he couldn’t remember the times when he used to think the sky was magical, maybe seeing that look on another person’s face would help him rediscover that part of himself.

When he turned to face Texas, though, his expression was not one of awe, but instead irritation.

“Where’s the damn arm holes in this thing?” He was attempting to put on the Seawolves hoodie that Alaska had given him(an offer he’d refused for the first five minutes before caving in). It was rather loose on him—a feeling quite unfamiliar to the second-largest state. Eventually, he figured it out, but not before shooting a death glare at the very smug Alaskan man who clearly enjoyed watching him suffer.

“Aww, is it too big for your little arms?”

“If you don’t shut your trap–”

“Hey, you agreed to visit the one state who has the right to call you short. You should’ve seen this coming.”

“Look, it was either this or go along with California’s weird vacation plans.”

“California has all those beaches, though. It can’t be that bad.”

“Yeah, and California also has California.”