Russia wasn't the only one in the Soviet household who loved sunflowers; Latvia did as well. For Latvia though, it was more the act of gardening, the ability to care for and protect something, that he enjoyed. The specific flower didn't matter as much. Besides, the sunflowers seemed to please Russia, and a cheerful Russia was infinitely more preferable than an irate one.

So Latvia continued to grow sunflowers. Or rather, trying to grow sunflowers. The harsh weather of Russia's home killed them, every single time he planted new ones. No matter how carefully he tended them, sooner or later, they died. Every. Single. Time. He was optimistic about a new variety, however. The man who'd sold him the seedlings had sworn that these would survive just about anything. Latvia had planted them, and so far they seemed to be doing well.

When he went down to check them one evening, only a week or so after he'd planted them, they were dead.

All three little seedlings, which he'd cared for to the best of his ability, dead. Almost overnight, their bright colors had faded and withered to a dull brown, curled and cracking at the edges of the leaves. A few petals lay in the dirt of the pots, warped into little spirals.

Latvia wasn't quite sure when he started crying, but before he knew it, tears were rolling down his cheeks, disproportionately large for such a tiny country. He'd failed. Again. He buried his face in his hands, biting his lip to cover the soft whimpering noise once he realized he was making it. The little Baltic's shoulders trembled violently.

Russia was on his way back to his office after showing one of the other countries out, so he wasn't in the best of moods when he heard the small noise. He stopped in the hall with his head tilted, listening for it. When it came again, he tried to follow it and eventually found Latvia standing in front of his sunflower pots, sobbing. The sound made Russia's heart ache, as though he'd dropped something on it after it fell out. He remained in the doorway for a little longer, as he was well aware of Latvia's reactions around him. But after a short while of listening to Latvia cry, Russia couldn't help but speak up. "What is wrong?"

Latvia all but froze at the sound of Russia's voice. His shoulders still quivered, and his chin, but aside from that, he was still. "N-nothing," he replied. "I-it's nothing."

Russia frowned and drifted closer. "I have never heard you cry so hard before over 'nothing.' What is wrong?"

The Baltic sniffled, rubbing at his eyes. "I'm n-not lying," he shot back. He really was crying over nothing—more accurately, the nothing that was left after his sunflowers died.

"I did not say you were." Russia took a step to the left so he'd have a clearer view of what was behind the small nation. "What is that?"

Latvia moved, failing again to hide the flowerpots. "Nothing."

"The same nothing that made you cry?"

He nodded reluctantly, looking at his feet and interlocked fingers.

Russia smiled; when he spoke, his voice held a trace of a laugh. "What were you trying to do?"

He sniffled again, still not meeting Russia's gaze. He was being made fun of, he was sure, and he wrapped his arms around himself as though he could protect himself from it. "I w-was growing s-sunflowers…" More tears welled up. "B-but they died…!" He was openly crying again, face hidden in his hands.

Russia's eyes went wide. "Ah…"

A moment later Latvia felt arms around him as Russia pulled him close, gently holding the little Baltic against his chest. "Do not cry, Latvia. They will grow eventually."

He shook his head, scattering a few tears across the front of Russia's coat, too upset to even protest. "I've tried e-everything," he mumbled. "B-but they just k-keep dying!"

Russia just continued to hold him, moving a hand to rub soothingly around the back of Latvia's neck and the tops of his shoulders. There was nothing he could really say to that. After a little while, the small nation had calmed to the point where his sobs faded to soft whimpers and his shoulders weren't trembling quite as badly. Russia smiled and delicately brushed his fingers through Latvia's hair. "See? It will be okay."

Latvia sniffled and lifted his head an inch, peering up at the tall nation with watery red eyes. The tip of his nose was also red, and still-wet tearstains marked his cheeks. Russia gently wiped them away with his thumb. "No more tears, little one. You will be all right."

Blushing, the Baltic turned his face away from Russia, not at all used to this sort of kindness. Russia simply smiled, continuing to stroke back and forth over Latvia's shoulders. "Was that the only thing bothering you?"

He nodded, still not meeting Russia's gaze. The taller country ruffled his hair affectionately and picked him up, holding him securely against his chest. Latvia yelped and clung to Russia's shoulder, trembling. Russia chuckled. "Don't worry, I will not drop you."

Latvia's fingers dug into his coat anyway, grip not loosening at all. Smiling kindly, Russia carried him back into the main part of the house. Gradually, Latvia unclenched his fingers, even relaxing to the point where he laid his head on Russia's shoulder. The taller nation delicately ran his fingers through the Baltic's hair and down over his back in one motion. Latvia sighed, feeling a bit worn out. He blinked sleepily; Russia was warm, and it was quite comforting to the little nation. Smiling, Russia took him into the living room with the idea to lay him down for a bit, but Latvia refused to let go. He didn't want to be alone; he knew he'd probably start crying again. So Russia stayed with him, holding him close against his chest.

Latvia was nearly asleep when Russia pressed a quick, gentle kiss to his forehead. The Baltic's eyes snapped open and he felt his face heat up, nearly rivaling the deep red of his uniform.

Russia smiled. "I did not realize you were awake."

Latvia just stared at him for a moment. He blinked.

The Slavic nation broke the uncomfortable silence. "I did not mean to upset you."

"Y-you didn't…" He tucked his head back down against Russia's shoulder.

"So I may do it again, да?"

Latvia glanced up at him. "Uh…"

He was a bit too slow with a full answer, and Russia bent down to delicately brush his lips against the Baltic's forehead. He pulled back with a smile, leaving Latvia's face a beautiful crimson. Russia chuckled and stroked a thumb over the little nation's cheek, guiding his head to rest back against the Slav's shoulder. "Sleep, little one."

Latvia attempted a nod and shut his eyes. Soon he was peacefully asleep, snuggled up in Russia's arms. The tall nation smiled, pleased that Latvia hadn't—for once—run away.

He'd definitely have to do something about those sunflowers.

So...I'm just going to leave this here. It's on my dA account as well, but can we count this as my application into FFN? Reviews are always appreciated, but I will use flames to warm my bedroom, should such flames appear~

~ThatLithuanianGuy