You're an idiot. People are always saying I'm the idiot even when they don't think I know, even when they don't think I listen, but to me, I think you're an even bigger idiot. You're the most idiotic idiot in the whole entire world, and I hate you.
… But when I see you parking your car outside my house, I can't help but feel excited. You know it's your fault, and I hate you.
I don't get you at all. You're a complete psychopath, who used to be so anal about making my life a living hell. Yet somehow, you fell for me, and I fell for you. Where in the hell is the justice in the world?
You're the type of grounded person who's a little loopy in the head, while I'm the supposed immature one with his head in the clouds. I guess that works. You're the one who brings me down when I'm off in my own little la-la world of gratuitous heroism and infallible justice. You're the one that anchors me back to earth when I'm busy trying to make peace in this blasted world which I've made myself a leader in, when I'm so immersed in satisfying all those demands that I feel like I'm about to off myself. Meanwhile, I'm the one who brings you up from you own twisted abyss of a mental hell. I'm the one who lifts up your spirits and tells you to get the fuck over yourself because the world doesn't revolve around you. I'm the one who divulges entertaining jokes and cracks dirty secrets because you seem to have, in your life, lost the idea of "fun", and you're too serious for your own good. I still hate you, though. It wasn't supposed to work out that way. But in that sick way, it did.
I don't get it. I see you, I see me. You see me, you see you. Maybe it's funny, or maybe we've just been fucked over, but it's ironic. Both of us were abandoned, and no, I will not admit that I was the one who abandoned that caretaker of mine. You were abandoned too, and left to fend on your own much like I was. The only difference is, you turned psycho and I became the world's role model. I took down the path of happy air-headedness, becoming so popular and devoting myself to being the world's hero. You, on the other hand, became twisted like a pretzel and ended up becoming the greatest enemy to ever face my ideals of capitalism. You became a damn Commie.
That war destroyed us both, but it also brought us together. I never realized I had much of a sadistic side before that. I suppose I should thank you for that. I liked it when I saw you beg for your life, or rather, try not to. It was funny to me how you tried so hard, but lost in the end anyway. Well, I still like it when you beg now, but it doesn't give me the same addicting satisfaction as it did back then. No, I haven't gone soft.
… Maybe I just hate you a little less.
Like I said, we don't come from those cheesy romantic movies where one person woos an unrequited love, because in the first place, I don't think ours was what you'd really call unrequired. Idiotically intense, maybe, and at the very least, suppressed sexual tension. The point is, it was always there, and because of that, we weren't always guaranteed that happy ending. No, we don't do all those stinking clichéd dinner dates with bouquets of roses – because you're a picky asshole and prefer sunflowers instead. But that's beside the point. No, we don't go to movies and do that yawning thing and drape arms over each other. That kind of shit is lost on me, because I don't get why people need to be so physical all the time. Oh, don't get me wrong; when we do get physical, I'm hardly complaining. It's more of you complaining, really, but don't worry, I won't tell anyone. It's not like the idea of sex is absurd. I'm not that superficial or prude. No, but if I have to explain what our relationship is like, it'll be on the risk of sounding even sappier than these romantic movies I'm actually starting to hate.
What we both need is someone to care. I'm not some sort of fucked up orphan, but I am fucked up to some extent. It's like one of those "rise to fame" videos. You step up so much, so fast, that you grow up and before you know it, you're on top of the world but you're all alone up there. Everyone's looking up to me. I don't mind the pressure because I've long since gotten used to that, and I've gotten even more used to dealing with demanding old bags like that British guy. I get all this attention, but that's just it: attention. There's a barrier between me and their adoring eyes, and no matter how hard I try, I can't get past that. They, on the other side, can do nothing either. But you somehow did, with your idiotic and admittedly chilly smile. It's like you were oblivious to the fact that I should be respected, because you just barrelled down that wall and dared to challenge me in my own turf. You know, it's all your fault that Cold War deal started. You, on the other hand, totally hid yourself from the world and gave yourself that reputation that will forever blemish your life and country. No one trusts you, because really, who would? Have you seen yourself in the mirror lately? You drive away the closest people to you, because you're already so used to doing that that you don't even bother to try anymore. You've just gone and accepted that unfathomable loneliness, and it's almost like you'd lost all the will to fight… until I came in, of course. I wasn't about to give a rat's ass if you had some sort of messed-up past, and I sure as hell wasn't going to back down because some cowards decided to spread rumours – some of which were true – about you. Nah, I was going to take you down, and because of that, I broke your barrier almost as easily as you broke mine.
It's because people assume that just because we're adults, we should be mature and handle ourselves. Oh my god, really? For fuck's sake, look at me! I look like a freaking nineteen year old! Actually, I feel like a nineteen year old sometimes, and that's still a child in nation terms. I don't nearly have enough experience, and yet somehow I'm already on top. Presumptuous to say, but even you have to admit I'm pretty up there. I may not smoke or do pot and whatever else, but that's still a fucking child. I kind of need to be babied sometimes. It's not all about world politics all the time, every day, every week, that I could give a less of a shit about. You know, maybe sometimes I just want to be hugged and told that I'm doing a good job so far. Having the world's weight on your shoulder isn't as cracked up as it sounds like. You do that, I guess. You cracked through that barrier of mine and saw that curled-up, needy child that just wants to be acknowledged in a different way other than "a superpower."
Likewise, you're a little too old for your years. What are you, like twenty-three-something? But you look and act like you're forty or something. You're cracked, mentally and physically. It must have been something to do with when our paths of loneliness diverged, and you were stuck in a war-torn country with no choice but to fight. You're so old and exhausted all the time, that I don't think even you can predict your own thoughts. I don't know how you deal with it, I really don't. But that's why I'm here. I'm here to tell you to lighten up and tell you that you still do have a life left, that there's still something waiting out there, something good, even if you don't know it. I take care of you like a brother or a mother, but on a deeper level, because you need more than just sibling love. You need to be fixed because damn, dude, you're sure as hell broken. Maybe more than me, even.
Do I need you? Yeah, maybe. It doesn't mean I don't hate you. You can't just erase everything that happened between us, but I guess if you think about it, it was all a precursor to this… whatever sort of "relationship" we have. I still hate your guts, you damn Commie, and if you ever try to step a foot out of line, I will shoot.
Idiot.
A/N: Wrote this at 1 in the morning. Sorry, but this is my RusAme headcanon (if you didn't figure out that it was that pairing). It's my first piece of writing that's blunt and direct to the point. I hope I didn't offend anyone, but this is how I see their relationship is like. It's like FrUK with love-hate, except more emphasis on feelings than... sex, methinks. And more really wanting to kill the other person.