"Let go of me," Hungary said firmly to the Romanian in front of her who was smirking and grasping her wrist tightly. He was testing her patience and seeing how long she could manage without hitting him. She had learnt over time that Romania was a proud man with high opinions of himself, though he wasn't quite the narcissist that Prussia was. Although the two couldn't stand each other, he enjoyed irritating Hungary whenever he was around her.
"Make me," he said, tightening the grip on her wrist. She tried to free herself but Romania pulled on her arm by her wrist, causing her to stumble towards him. Hungary straightened her posture and glared at him.
"What exactly do you think you are trying to do?" she snapped at him.
"Having fun. What about you?" Romania retorted.
"I am trying to go about my day without any trouble but you are interrupting me!" He laughed, turning away from her for a few moments. Romania was annoying, especially when he would bother her. Hungary had often wondered if he seeked attention he didn't otherwise receive, but she always concluded that she also got little attention and that she wasn't an annoying brat like him.
"Don't get me wrong, Hungary, I can't stand you but you're fun to play with," he said, turning back to her.
"I am not your plaything," she snapped.
"Maybe not, but you certainly are entertaining even though you are a pretty boring person." Hungary went to retort when Romania placed his cold hand over her mouth. She began to evaluate her options at that moment: biting his hand could distract him or she could kick him in the shin. However, Hungary decided those two options required too much effort and that she might have to sit back and see what would happen next.
"You know, it isn't polite for a lady to talk back like that," he said mockingly. "You should really learn some manners." He removed his hand from her mouth and moved it to his head, running his fingers through his hair.
"Thank you for your kindness," she said bitterly."
"I knew you'd understand," Romania replied. He looked in her eyes for any signs of weakness. It occurred to Hungary that he wasn't much taller than her, probably an inch or two. He looked away again, seemingly disappointed.
"I'm guessing that if you find it fun to irritate me, you don't have fun often," Hungary stated. Romania sighed softly.
"You don't know the half of it. I'd buy things to entertain me if I had the money."
"After all this time, you still act like a child," Hungary muttered.
"We grew up too quickly and never had a chance to act like children," he sighed. He was right about that: Hungary spent most of her childhood fighting Turkey and other troublesome nations; Romania had done the same. Neither of them had someone else fuss and look after them like any normal child.
"Even if that is correct, you have no choice but to act mature. Your country is depending on you," she said, slowly pulling away from him. He let go of her wrist and she began to walk away.
"I'm not like you," he replied.
"No, and you never will be. Perhaps if you were like me, you wouldn't act like an annoying self-centred idiot and would accept that life isn't fair but make do with what you do have."
She briefly turned back to him, curious to see his reaction to the dig. Surprisingly, he didn't seem to be insulted and instead seemed to be thinking about her words.
"But if I were like you, who would argue with you and find delight at your misery?" he asked, genuinely curious.
"It would still be you. After all, I know me better than anyone else and if you were more like me, I'd probably hate you even more." With that response, she continued to walk out of the room. Hungary wasn't sure if she was relieved that her encounter was over, since the arguments she had with Romania tended to be some of the most entertaining parts of her life. What a boring life she had.