Michigan sat on a bench, holding his hot coffee to his nose and taking a deep breath, enjoying the scent of the dark roast mixed with his hazelnut creamer. His bench was situated by a sidewalk in Belle Isle Park, looking out at the skylines of Detroit and Windsor. Tourists and locals alike meandered past, buzzing with excitement at the sights to see. It was peaceful. It was great. Lance wouldn't want to be anywhere else in the world. 

Footsteps blended together like a melody, but Lance didn't realize that one of them was coming up to him until it was too late. "Lance."

Lance's heart skipped a beat in his chest and his muscles tightened on instinct. It had been over 6 years since he last heard that voice. He looked up slowly to face him and was met with that familiar shaggy blonde hair and dark green eyes.

Lance took a deep breath. "Oliver."

Oliver, otherwise known as the province of Ontario, nodded awkwardly. "May I... sit?"

"I guess." Lance muttered, looking at the grass as Oliver took his seat on the bench. 

There was a tense silence between the two. Lance was not interested in speaking, though his throat seemed to have a mind of his own, burning as if begging him to say something. He tried to listen to the waves crashing up against the rocks but all he could really hear was his frantic breathing pattern as he struggled to breathe like a normal person.

Finally, Oliver broke the silence. "It's been a while."

"Yeah." Lance agreed. "How... did you find me?"

"I messaged Illinois. And then when she didn't answer, I messaged Ohio. And when she told me to fuck off, I messaged Mark and he told me you were coming to Belle Isle today."

Lance shook his head. Of course Mark would rat him out. 

Lance glanced at Oliver at he let out a sigh. "Listen, I came here to apologize. I... I was out of line, back in November."

Lance snorted. "You mean November of 2016?"

Oliver blushed. "Yes, I know that I waited too long. But after a couple years of holding the grudge, I thought... I thought the bridge was burned and irreparable. I didn't know if you would have it in your heart to forgive me."

Lance stared at Oliver in surprise. Ontario was not the sort of guy to get sappy and sentimental. This... this was new. And as he watched Oliver sit there all flustered, Lance remembered what that human, Shelby, had said to him all those years, that it was sad to throw away over 200 years worth of history over a stupid election. "You would have to do something a lot dumber than yelling at me over a spray-tanned potato." When Oliver looked at him in surprise, Lance continued. "Now if you refused to pay for the next bridge I want to build across Lake Huron, then we'll have a problem."

That made Oliver snicker. "Oh geez, how could your obsession with bridges slip my mind?"

"No idea, its like my only personality trait." Michigan muttered, making Oliver laugh again. That made Lance smile. "Anyways, apology accepted. It's nice to have you back, Oliver." He stated, before holding out his hand for Oliver to shake.

Oliver grabbed Lance's hand, and for a brief moment they shook hands as they smiled at each other. But after a second or two, their smiles faded, and Oliver shook his head before pulling Lance towards him. Before Lance could even gather his thoughts, Oliver had his arms wrapped around him in a tight embrace. Lance was tense for a second, before he returned it, feeling a tension release from his body that he forgot was sitting there, waiting to be lifted.