Lithuania sat in the locker room, elbows resting on his knees, head down, his hair falling freely over his face. He lost. He lost in his national game. How? – he thought, not believing himself. He sighed again, as a laughing, short, tanned man with a mask kicked the door open, pointing at him and laughing, pointing fingers, "Ahahahahahhahahaha! You-a lost! Whata loser!" Turkey laughed. Lithuania sighed again. "Hey, it's just a game. I is of happy for you. Bravo!" He smiled, turning his head up to look at the confused Turkey. "It's okay Turkija. I is really not mad." Lithuania slid some of his hair over his ear, knowing that Turkey will get bored if he didn't give him a reaction. Turkey gave a confused look. "Whata? You're really not mad?" Turkey squinted. "No. Not at all." Lithuania kept on smiling. Turkey gave the northern nation a smug face, "eh"ed, and left the room with his bag. Lithuania inhaled deeply, sighing again, standing up and stretching. He took his own bag, and turned to the door, taking fast steps out. Just as he stepped out, he bumped into a tall, muscly figure. He gasped, stepping away, looking up at the man with purple eyes and silver blonde hair. "Aaah, Pone(mister) Rusija-! I am of so sorry, I did not sees you there-, I is of apologize-" But he got cut off by a finger over his mouth. "Litva, we have known eatchother for very long. You can just call me Russia. And it is ok. I'm the sorry one." Russia smiled down at Lithuania. "I saw the game. You played very good! You will cheer me up when I am against Spain, da?" He put a hand on Lithuania's shoulder. The previously intended to go back to the hotel nation sighed and mentally prayed that this won't last long so he can go home and rest. "O-of course, Sir- I mean, Russia. I will cheer you up." He nodded at what he just said. Of course he can sneak out in the break… right? "Ah, thank you thank you thank you!" Russia took Lithuania into a firm hug, what made the smaller nation drop his bag and gasp for ai. "J-jokios problemos—(no problem)!" He said, and Russia put him down. "Thank you so much! I will see you after the game~! Dasvidanya (good-bye) for now!" Russia ran off back to the playing arena to train, and Lithuania sighed, again, rubbing the back of his neck. See him play? What's that for me? Well… I guess if he won, it'd be fun to see him kick Turkija's ass… - He thought for himself, chuckling at the thought. Why not… - he thought again, and went to the empty seats with a skip in his his step of tired legs. He sat down, and texted his brothers that he'll be late home (the two insisted on coming to cheer on him- just like Ukraine and Belarus for Russia), and inhaled, taking a water bottle and sipping up to clear his tired vision. "Alright..." he thought loudly. "The game lasts for about an hour, I can keep on." He lied to himself, rubbing some dreams (those yellow crispy things) from his right eye, also brushing the hair out of his face.
A little bit latter, the signal showed that the match was on. Russia and Spain were both on the arena, grinning at one another cockily. Lithuania chuckled remembering how Spain beat him to second place a few years back. Heh - he thought - this is of going be interestings. – He smiled and waved at Russia happily. "Go CSKA Maskwa (Lithuanian for Moscow)!" He cheered, leaning forwards in his seat with excitement. He watched to the third quarter, keeping with the score. But he was still tired, and in his time, it was way past his usual sleeping time, and he fell asleep. Right there, in the seat, people shouting and air-horns screaming all around him. But he didn't care, nor he could help himself – he was really tired.
After the game, even after so many claps and shouts echoed, he didn't work up. Russia, even if he lost, was looking at the crowd, looking for Lithuania happily cheering in it. Upon seeing no one, he frowned deeply, sadly. He looked at spain, waving to Romano and his fratello (brother in Italian) sitting in VIP spots, blowing them kisses and happily cheering for his victory. Russia smiled a little. "Great game, da?" He asked. "mm? Oh, yeah, deffinetly! You were a good opponent!" Spain extended his hand to shake. Russia kindly took the handshake from his friend, nodding. "I'll be gouung now, I'll see you next week in the meeting!" Spain nodded and waved the walking Russia bye. "Will do!"
Russia waved back and left the arena, and went to the lockers, thinking that maybe Lithuania as a quiet person could not handle the yelling and went inside. Upon seeing no one there, he frowned again. He went over to his locker and took his pink-cased phone out of bag, dialing Lithuania.
The poor guy was asleep, arms crossed, head hanging down, sweater over his head. The phone playing "Depozito (a Despacito parody in Lithuanian by Black Biceps)" did not bother him one fly.
Russia sighed again, but he was used to this. He probably had something more important – Russia thought but was still very upset in the back of his head. He walked out of the locker room to watch the people get up and leave their seats to go drink and fight in bars/pubs/tavernas later. He stood there for about fifteen minutes, and when everyone finally left (Except for Spain Romano and Italy – those three were talking and this and that in a corner, Spain showing off his moves to his boyfriend and his frattelo), he noticed a figure in a dark hoodie in the seats. What? What are they waiting for? - Russia asked himself internally, Starting to quickly walk over to the figure in the hoodie – he really didn't care who they were- he was just going to get them out. He was just about to recite a long paragraph about respect, when the figure, turned it's head up, their face looking up at the ceiling. Oh- Lithuania! - He was surprised, relieved, happy, that his friend was here. "Lithuania? Wake up." Russia gently nudged the smaller nation's arm. Nothing. Russia then remembered that once the man fell asleep the only thing to wake him up was sunshine- and where can one find sunshine at night? Russia will have no other way than to take him home. What was not a problem at all in his mind! He gently picked up the small nation over his shoulder, taking his bag too. Walking down the tight steps, he walked into the locker-room to take also his bag, and then headed out to his car. A nice Volga, silver in colour (coloUr : ), the Russian flag thingies on the mirrors. Russia opened the door and set Lithuania on the back seats, on where the nation curled up into his sweater again. Russia smiled – cute. He set the bags in the boot (luggage compartment ?) , and sat into the driver's seat. The hotel was not too far away, and in about twenty minutes, they had arrived to their destination. Russia unbuckled himself and Lithuania from the back seat, taking him into his strong arms for the third time this evening.
In the hotel room, he gently laid Lithuania into his own deluxe size bed, putting soft blankets on him and a pillow under his head. Again, he did not even flinch. Russia smiled. "Dobroy nochi, Litva (goodnight, Lithuania)." He whispered, smiling again. Russia went to take a shower, thinking a little. Maybe if Lithuania hadn't fallen asleep and kept cheering, he would have won… No matter - he thought, cleaning his hair from the sweat, - It's just a game. – He reminded himself. Even if loosing is not my favourite (favoUrite) ending to it. He will show himself to his Litva next time – there are so many EuroLeagues to come. And, they can watch the final between Turkey and Spain play tomorrow.