A/N: This one-shot was inspired by my English homework. Fail title is fail. Reviews are loved.
There is only one thing more terrifying than someone who hates you, and that is someone who loves you.
Russia, wanting to escape his demented sister, had been in isolation in a run-down cabin located in the middle of a snow covered nowhere known to mankind. He hated it there, but was thankful that she wasn't there. However, despite the fact that he was - for the first time in his life- Belarus-free, his surroundings made him anxious.
Was it just him, or did the sound of the hollowing wind sound like a call, repeating itself in pure delight? "брат, брат."
The cabin was surrounded by snow, neither sun nor sunflower in sight. Spring seemed to have died off and turned into eternal winter. The world around him reminded the childish nation to recall the loathed General Winter, the subject of his horrors. Any minute now, Russia could expect him to arrive and torment him.
Could the love of his sister be worse than his lifelong tormentor?
The tall, well-built Russian felt the depth of his isolation as the jet black sky sunk into a void, and the bright stars became eyes watching his every movement.
Thankfully they were not an icy blue colour.
Suddenly, he heard a noise straight out of a horror fiction novel come from the snow capped wilderness.
He hated snow, especially now.
Eerie was the best word that could possibly describe it, like a the high-pitched voice of a cruel child.
Belarus has a high-pitched voice.
Slowly and tentatively, utterly unwilling to confront what awaited him -even if he assured himself it was nothing, he was just overreacting and that there was no way she could be here-, Russia peered out the dusty hole in the wall that would best be described as a window.
Later, he dearly regretted that action.
His eyes caught sight of an platinum-haired girl, sitting beside a hellish fire that was stationed right beside his cabin! The girl, even if she was very pretty, looked frightening as she brandished a knife (Belarus's most -and only- trusted companion) smeared with fresh blood. What poor soul (even if Russia did not recognise them as that) had endured the pain just so she could get here?
Belarus was persistent, and when it came to her love for Russia; there was nothing she couldn't do.
Completely terrified and smothering a scream, Russia rapidly drew back from the window, praying that a drape would magically appear from the heavens and conceal him.
She's here.
Even though Russia knew better than anybody that he was the only person alive that would never receive Belarus's anger, the fearsome nation ducked under a sorry excuse for a table. He closed his eyes and prayed in a low voice, "She doesn't see me. She does not see me."
But Belarus always knew when her brother was present.
As if on cue, he heard the flimsy wooden door crash and break.
Belarus was always persistent with what she wanted. And what she wanted, was him.
"Oh, брат~" a high-pitched voice eagerly chirped, drawing nearer with Russia's every breath. It was so tempting to scream right now, it took all of Russia's strength to stop himself. Maybe if she thought he was not there, she would leave? Oh, he wished. But wishing would do nothing. "I missed you so much!" carried on the voice. "So, I had decided to follow you -make sure you were safe from harm, брат- and camp out beside your cabin. But then, I realised I missed you too much!"
Oddly comforting, but then Russia would remember who spoke those words, and he took the former back.
Russia remained silent, still hoping she would leave. How long would it take now?
Think of something pleasing, like sunflowers, and vodka.
His younger sister, ever stubborn, pressed on. "I know you are in here, брат~ Come out~ Come one, we must become one. Marry me, marry me, marry me, marry me~!"
When Belarus is happy, everyone is happy (even if it's just because they can escape her wrath). When Belarus is angry, everyone is scared. Did that have to be such a truth?
With a cry of 'aha', the Belarusian girl was in front of Russia, brandishing that accursed bloody knife. Her mouth was curled into a grin that revealed her true psychotic nature.
Belarus never smiles, unless Russia's around.
Russia let his scream out at the sight of the girl dressed in that navy dress, but was silenced as her icy lips touched his.
As the wind carried away a muffled "marry me", with a sudden remorse Russia learned that he could never escape her.