He wanted to look at him, during the world meeting conference, but he knew he shouldn't. That man was poison. He was evil. He was no good. But it is often things that are no good to us that attract us the most. And so, he looked. He ignored the yells from Germany, telling all of the other countries to shut their pie holes. He ignored Italy's random cries of "Pastaaaaaa." and ignored Prussia's tales of "awesome me" that he was telling everyone. No one was important enough, not his brother, Canada, nor his father England. Only that man, with the pale blond hair, sitting across from him. Only him. The man who captured him heart, the one in the pink scarf. He looked across the table, to seethe one who captured his heart. Tis man, this country, known as Russia.