Here is a short story about how Belarus sees Russia. You can however which way you want. I don't know.
Enjoy.
Cold Child
By: Strange and Curious
It was late at night when it happened. A violent snowstorm hit the wall Russia's house and it's winds echoed through the hollow halls of the fortress.
Belarus had stayed at her brother's home for the night. She had come to visit him after learning that her dearest big brother's country was having difficulty. She had hoped that her company would lighten Russia's spirit.
Her light nightgown flowed around her legs as the young women made her way downstairs. Before Belarus could reach the kitchen, something caught her eyes. Across from where she stood, the fireplace was still going strong. The light it projected illuminated the back of the velvet chair and on the side were the extremities of a scarf. The Belarusian's elegant eyebrows slightly narrowed in confusion. Why was Russia still awake?
The moment she stepped inside the living room, Russia knew she was there.
" Belarus" acknowledge Russia with his usual childish tone " What are you doing still awake, sister?"
" I could ask you the same thing, Vanya " she answered softly
Russia chuckled, a sound much deeper than his usual giggle. Which usually signalled that he was not in a good mood.
" Come here little sister. It would be bad to have you catch a cold" he beckoned her
Without hesitation, the young women walked up and sat onto his lap. Russia's arms surrounded her and she felt his chin rubbing against the top of her head. She could not see his face.
" What is on your mind big brother?" the girl asked as she slightly squirmed on the other's lap to get more comfortable.
Russia giggled. He had put back his mask on.
" Was my thoughts too loud?" His smile broadened " It was nothing that could concern you, dear sister. Just America doing what he does best."
There was a very subtle change in Russia's voice. It was small, almost unperceivable but Belarus could have heard it miles away. Suddenly, it was like her brother cracked and broke. His strong arms, that encircled her, squeezed her body like a lifeline. The young women twitched as her brother's silent tears made their way to her cheek and then landed on her lap. Russia never cried, at least not with so brokenly. Even during the most violent winters or even if war tore him apart. These types of tears were a rare occurrence.
Still, Natalya, a nation's responsibilities aside, knew that Ivan was cold. Behind that mask where her brother hid from power hungry nations, was a child searching for warmth. Belarus knew for a long time that no one cared enough to give him such needed warmth. Son, she would be the one to give it. She would give her loyalty, her love and her life to her brother. No one cared for big brother like she did because he was a monster just like she was. Together they would find warmth in this cruel and cold world.