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"Hey ______..."
You glanced over your shoulder towards your Canadian friend, who was walking slightly behind you with his hands jammed tensely into his coat pockets. "Yeah, Mattie?"
He swallowed nervously, and then blurted, "When faced with a cold climate there's no substitute for body heat so wanna warm me up?"
You stopped walking and turned, open-mouthed, to your quiet and reserved Canadian friend. "Do I what?"
Matthew was a blushing mess, rubbing the back of his head and stuttering awkwardly. "Ah, that is... wanna play with my hockey stick?" He slapped his forehead. "Ugh, that wasn't any good either! Hold on, how about... uh, c-can I slip one past your goalie? Wait, no...!"
You stared at him in disbelief. Matthew was one of the sweetest, shyest, and most respectful boys you knew- so this behavior was extremely out of character for him.
Seemingly oblivious to your shock, he seemed to be mustering up the courage to make another attempt. "Hold on, let me try again." He cleared his throat and squared his jaw, his violet eyes gleaming with determination.
"Wanna puck around with me?! I can show you a good game!"
He took one peek at your face and his almost-cocky facade instantly vanished, prompting him to step off the sidewalk and begin slamming his head into a nearby tree. "No, no, no, no! This isn't working!" he whimpered frustratedly.
You watched him continue to repeatedly faceplant into the frosty trunk, your concern growing over his weird behavior. "Mattie...?" you tentatively called.
He stepped away from the tree and straightened up, taking a visibly deep breath and squaring his shoulders before walking back over to you. His eyes met yours, and he clasped your hands tightly into his and brought them up between the two of you.
"...Are you a sugar maple tree? 'Cause I'd totally tap that!"
His voice faltered before he finished the quip, and he broke away from you, blushing furiously and burying his face in his hands. Bewildered, you almost laughed, but then decided against it as you stepped back to his side.
"Um..." you asked, gently placing a hand on his shoulder. "What the heck was that about?"
He mumbled something into his gloves, the curl on his head quivering frantically with nerves. You patted his back softly and stepped closer. "I know this probably isn't what you want to hear, but I can't hear you..."
He brought his head back up and glanced sideways at you, his glasses fogged up from his utter embarrassment. "I said that I screwed up by going to Alfred for advice!"
Your brows furrowed in puzzlement. "Advice for what?"
Matthew looked down at his feet, and his voice was barely above a whisper. "...I told him that I had a crush on you, and thought maybe he could help me- I don't know, win you over or something, but I should have known I couldn't have pulled it off, and it was stupid advice in the first place, and now I've ruined everything and I'm sorry--!"
You cut him off with a tight hug, squeezing the adorable Canadian close to you. "Aww, Matthew, I don't know what to say!" you giggled.
"W-what?"
You released him from the hug to pull back, grab his shoulders and look him straight in the eyes. "Honestly, I'm flattered that you tried so hard, but you should have just told me."
His fading blush returned with full force. "Really? You mean you don't hate me for saying such crude things to you?"
Laughing, you replied, "Of course not! You should probably just think twice before you go to your brother for romance tips again." He looked to his feet again, ears burning with shame, before you grabbed his gloved hand and squeezed it.
"And for the record... I like you too."
A shaky grin spread across his face, only to widen when you leaned up to gently press your lips to his cheek. Then you stepped back and smirked mischievously.
"By the way... is that a moose antler in your pants, or are you just happy to see me?"
Laughing, you ran ahead, letting your indignant and adorably blushing new boyfriend chase you the rest of the way down the sidewalk.