She hadn't left the house in two days, not since she had gone to buy groceries with Russian rubles, which weren't her currency yet and probably never would be. She had been living with Russia, even since the Union between them in 1996. He had insisted it wasn't a marriage, but the next year, at when the Union had been strengthened they had, at her insistence, walked down the aisle together. Of course she had to be in her own country most of the time, but she still stayed with him whenever she could. He was her husband, after all.
He insisted on doing all of her paperwork when she was staying with him. That, combined with his own work, kept him busy during the day, leaving her to her own devices. She had begun embroidering another sunflower handkerchief for him. He already had twelve, and she was certain she had going make him a hundred. She never thought to go out during the day, always wanting to stay as close as he'd let her to where he was working in his study. Even when she was home in Minsk, she never went out anyway.
Of course she knew instinctively ever club, every bar, ever theater in Minsk and in every other city in her entire country. They were hers. She never went to them though. She felt guilty when she went out alone, letting other men flirt with her, when she was a married woman, and Ivan didn't like to go out. She had sometimes gone out before, after the break-up of the Soviet Union, but never alone. She always went with Toris. Of course he had stopped coming to take her out once she had gotten married. She was fine with that, or so she kept telling herself.
He would show up on random nights and knock on her door. She'd usually hit him a few times, but he was persistent, and eventually, she'd agree, because she never saw her brother anyway, and she was board and overworked trying to put her country back together and needed the distraction. The last train going from Minsk to Vilnius left at 9 pm, and he'd convince her to board it, and they'd ride down to Vilnius. The city was still in shambles politically and the clubs were dirty, and the beer was watered down because it was impossible to import enough otherwise, but the music was good, and sometimes she'd even humor him by dancing with him, although he'd likely take a few punches first. They'd sit awkwardly and not look at each other on the first train back the next morning.
He'd stopped coming around once she got married. She liked it better that way, she really did, although sometimes the silence got to her. One night, a few months after their marriage, she was staying in Minsk alone, and she couldn't stand the silence, so she took the last train to Vilnius and headed to a club he often took her too. The bouncer recognized her and asked, "Where's your little brown haired boyfriend. She'd snapped, "My husband is neither brown haired, nor little," and stomped away before he could respond. She'd spent the night in a hotel and taken the train back alone the next morning.
She didn't mind staying home. When she was with her brother, or her brother was in Minsk, it was an absolute joy to stay in with him, even if he didn't think so. When she was home alone, she could always find something to occupy herself; there were always new books being written and she had her embroidery. She was happier now that she was married to her brother. True she sometimes missed the nights out on the town, but she would have traded anything to be married to her brother as she was now, even if he didn't quite love her yet.
A/N- I know I promised I'd only work on my current stories, but I listened to the song "I don't get around much anymore" like Moesakra-is-knocking suggested and this popped into my head. Minsk is the capital of Belarus and Vilnius is the capital of Lithuania (I would assume you knew that, but there was a kid in my chem. Class that didn't even know Belarus was a country, and thought Minsk was in Russia, so, yeah). Also, go to http:/ .org /wiki /Union_State (Remove spaces). Russia and Belarus really are married.