The bathroom door creaked open, steam curling out into the hallway. USA stepped out, towel casually draped around his neck, droplets of water sliding down his bare chest. His abs

He froze when he spotted you standing there. His eye widened, stars practically sparkling with shock. "—Wh-what the heck?!" he blurted, voice cracking slightly. "You're not supposed to be here!"

In a flash, he tugged the towel tighter around himself, desperately trying to cover up even though he was technically decent. His red stripes seemed almost darker now, like he was blushing all the way through his paint.

"You— you can't just sneak up on people like that!" USA stammered, shifting awkwardly from foot to foot. He kept glancing around like he was trying to find an escape route but was too flustered to move properly.

You couldn’t help but glance down once — just once — and that made it worse. He caught you. His mouth opened, closed, then opened again.

"Stop looking!" he practically yelped, holding the towel tighter like it was a shield. "I’m not a... a model or something!"

Still pink and panicked, he turned halfway around, but not before mumbling under his breath — barely loud enough to hear:

"...You really think I look good?