Some rather insistent knocks on the door broke the peaceful silence only accompanied by two feather pens brushing gently against some papers until now.
"Hey, I know you're there! I can hear ya, ya know!"
Ah, such an annoying voice. It mind-fucks me every single time I hear it.
And, oh my, more insistent knocking.
"Open up, dammit!"
One of the two in the room stopped making contact with the pen against the white-yellow material, the hand gripping hard onto the writing tool.
Oh God, that accent…
Mother Nature sure failed when making this one pesky bastard-
"Cristina! Kahretsin(Damn it), open the goddamn door!"
I moved my gaze towards the other.
Such a fine boss, indeed. Not even bothering to mind a Turk. But me? Oh Lord, I can't hold back anymore.
"Ngh, fine! Just shut the fuck up already!"
The woman let a growl escape her rosy lips, as she glanced once more to the other, who ignored the disturbance and kept completing the important paperwork. She stood from her seat and made her way towards the big wooden door with heavy steps. Before she could even reach for the door knob, the person on the other side already broke the whole door down. "Finally! Thought ya'd never come!" complained a rather tall Turk with fancy clothes and over-confident attitude. "This place stinks, as usual. Can't ya just come over to my home? 'nd eventually move there, so we could-" "Why the freaking, bloody, gory hellare you here?" Romania snapped at the intruder as she stubbornly crossed her arms in front of her chest. "Do what you want to do and leave. I have better things to do than wasting time on stupid creatures such as yourself" she said, as she narrowed her eyes upon his well-built and hidden figure.
The all-mighty and impossibly idiotic Ottoman Empire stood proudly in front of Cristina, his brown eyes sparking with stupidity excitement as he thought of an evil plan. "Well, since ya're losin' territories 'nd ya need some help, how about ya do me some favours and maybe I'll-" "Domniţă, dar ce mai vrea ăsta de la noi(Miss, but what more does he want from us)?" Romania's boss, Vlad Ţepes, known as 'Vlad III the Impaler' and also 'Dracula', decided to interfere. "Nu ştiu, Măria Ta, vrea probabil să se bage unde nu-i fierbe oala (I don't know, your Majesty, he probably wants to sneak upon what's not his business)." "Ah, asta doreşte? Tu nu cunoaşte frica, căci am eu ac de cojocul lui. Adu-mi o ţeapă, domniţă, rogu-te frumos. (Ah, that's what he wants? Don't know fear, for I shall take care of him. Bring me a spear, miss, please.)" "Dar Măria Ta- (But your Majesty-)" "Hey! You're language is so horrible, why don't ya just speak Turkish, huh? It'd be much easier and-" "Sadiq, have you ever heard of vampires?" "Vamps? Yeah, sure. They come from… your… country… right?"
The Ottoman Empire almost shivered at the sight of Romania's lips suddenly curving into a devilish smirk. "Ah, well, I'm sure you've heard of Dracula. And you've met my boss before, Vlad Ţepes, who has a rather pleasing hobby of impaling people who stand against him and his country" she explained, as she moved closer to him and looked straight into his eyes, but he immediately moved his gaze towards the other person. Shit, how didn't he notice? That madman was so goddamn fucked up, it gave the Turk nightmares over nightmares oh so many nights. Wallachia sure knew to pick her leaders. Oh, that monster. He tortured his enemies to no end, looked like a total sadist and it was also rumored that he drank blood. And hell, in Turkish he was also known was the 'Impaler Prince.' He had no freakin mercy. No mercy! "Also, Sadiq, my Lord asked if I should bring him his favourite toy, something to impale you with, maybe a-" "Ya know what? I'll pay Japan a visit. If you see Greece tell him that I hate him, I'm gonna kick his ass and I made a new mall close to one of our borders!" Sadiq said quickly as he arranged the strange hat on his head, glanced once more at Vlad who shot him a deadly glare, making the Ottoman Empire shudder and curse in Turkish as he stormed out.
"Măria Ta, să mă ierţi, dar- (Your Majesty, please forgive me, but-)" "Lasă. Vor mai fi ocazii. îl voi trage eu în ţeapă pe nenorocit. Să ne întoarcem la muncă, până una-alta. (Forget it. There will be other occasions. I will impale the bastard. Let's return to work.)" "Desigur, Măria Ta! (Of course, your Majesty!)"
And so, the woman retook her seat and continued working in silence next to her boss, wind occasionally blowing in gently because of their room lacking a door, thanks to none other but the pesky Turk.
You're one big idiot, Sadiq… Romania thought as a small smile took over her lips.