We can be friends (open)

The Pole, nineteen, was laying on his cream colored settee, dejected. Feliks wasn't a young nation, of course not. He had seen many wars and deaths and friendships lost. He was a young man. Nineteen meant college, but he knew almost every language in Europe and knew the history of Europe. College didn't appeal to him. Looking back to Jadwiga, the nineteen-year-old smiled. She was the king of Poland, even though most of her family came from Hungary.
At a younger age, Feliks as a child, wasn't aware of his country-hood. He had been in dismay for years until Jadwiga met him. His neighbor was called Litwa, and they, centuries later came closer in a commonwealth. But now, 2014, Feliks was nineteen. Groaning, he went to the phone, only to realize that no one would want to be with him.
You're annoying. Feliks thought to himself. He covered his ears and went back to the settee to curl up in self pity.

(Yay! Thank you so much for joining!)

He finally decided on calling Feliciano. They were actually friends, much to a lot of people's surprise. He dialed the number, and sat on the floor, waiting for Feli to answer.

Feliks allowed himself a weak smile, "Hey, Feli. How're you doing?"

"That's cool, I guess. I'm just sitting around. I need to feed the horses, 'cause I'm in my country home, not my city home."

(Thank you so much! Just jump in!)

Feliks smiled to himself, "Sure, come on over."

He hung up the wall phone and walked over back to his settee, sprawling himself across.

Feliks flung from his sprawled position and ran to the door.

"Cześć, Włochy." Feliks smirked at him, "Come in, please." He stepped aside, allowing Italy inside.

Feliks closed the door behind him and said, "Whaddya wanna do? We could ride horses?"