"I should refund all my courses..." you grumble as your fingers furiously danced across the keyboard. After two days of silence since the last meeting, America has called and assigned you for organizing his emails. Even after missing two days of college your instructors gave warning that they will refund your classes. So far, the only class you kept up with was the online Italian class, but then again why were you learning Italian? You considered the hospitality industry, and took many courses relating to it, and had a dream of traveling to Italy. The motivation left.
Before logging into America's account, you refunded your courses.
I wonder how the countries feel about technology. Have they gotten used to it? Seriously, how can they stand each other in the same room? What about the Cold War? The World Wars? Or even the wars going all the way back?!
You review an email from Italy which contained a load of emojis and a sentence at the end that said, "WOW SO COOL!" You move the message to a special folder made for him, you named it "Italy Spam."
The allies and the axis powers. The revolutionary war. The pain and anguish they put each other through. The lives lost.
After an hour and a half of skimming and organizing the emails in separate folders you move on to the other task America gave you, arranging and scheduling events. You also needed to message those who were invited the time and place. You check the names, "America, France, Italy, Germany, _, Russia..." You scroll up again and stare blankly at your name. "The fuck?!"
You check the location again, most of these locations were not even in America. "Double the fuck?!" A new message made your phone vibrate, and it read from America "Horror Movie Night at my place brohas! Please come I hate watching alone."
This is what I refunded my classes for? I have to speak to America about these events, there's no way I can afford traveling from one place to another. And keep paying for this small apartment.
You shut your laptop and hop off the bed that takes up a half of the room. You dig through your small closet and dump out any type of suitable clothing for the event. So far, all you showcased yourself in was an oversized hoodie, jeans and old red converse shoes. How lame.
Your phone buzzed again, this time from Russia. "Are you also coming to see the horror movies?"
"Yeah, I'll see you then?" you slowly type back and then toss the phone on your bed, afraid for the response. You brush your hand over a simple red plaid dress you haven't found an occasion to wear for. You hear the phone buzz, but ignore it as you place your outfit together: dress, black tights, and a brown jacket with fake fur on the hoodie. It reminded you of America's jacket.
"OH. The 50 is for the states!" brain fart.
You check the event time, 6:00 p.m. And then, the time now, 4:47 p.m., well, you did wake up late, I guess it made sense. You finally check the message Russia sent, "I'll pick you up, da?"
"Eh?"
-"No, no that's not necessary!"
"Do you know America's address?"-Russia
-"No...can you tell me?"
"No, I'll just come get you."-Russia
You forgot he walked you home after the warm lunch he treated you to. "Hmph, I won't argue with him then." You pass the mirror and take a few looks at yourself: messy hair, an oversized shirt that read "Out of Stock" and polka dotted shorts. The heater was turned up, so you did not feel chilly, but you did feel hungry.
Your room's floor is two inches higher than the kitchen floor, so if you forget about it you either slipped when exiting or tripped when entering. You remembered so you survived for the day. The kitchen was only composed of a few cabinets, a five foot counter top including a sink and microwave, as well as your mini fridge. Inside were a bunch of water bottles, leftovers you have to remember to throw out, and a tiny cheesecake Russia bought you from before. You take the cake. Still creamy, sweet and delicious. There's no other way to describe it. The doorbell rang, interrupting your moment of sweet silence.
With a plastic fork in your mouth you peek out the door, at a grinning Russia, "Zdravstvujtye!" (Hello in Russian)
"Russia?! What are you doing here? It's only five!" you hide yourself with the door.
"Oh, it takes about an hour at most to get to America's house from here," he explains and gestures to a grey car. "Did you not get my text?"
"I didn't check, I'm sorry," you wonder if you should leave him outside or invite him in. "I'll meet you outside in a second!"
...
You almost copped out in wearing the dress, but selecting another outfit would have increased waiting time. He held the passenger door open and you awkwardly plant yourself in the leather seats. New car smell. Probably rented. The space between the passenger and driver seats is small, but the seats were large you would be able to pull your legs up and fall asleep. You clutched your messenger bag that only held your cellphone and wallet as Russia entered the car. Sitting at his side made you realize how short you were compared to him. He sees you staring with jealousy and pats your head.
Throughout the car ride you tried to keep conversation between you and Russia.
"Is winter harsh in Russia?"
"Oh yes, everything is covered in snow, and the mosques look as if they are painted white. But when the sunlight hits it everything shimmers."
"Sounds pretty...do countries have families?"
"We don't have any parents, but we do have siblings. Usually the ones who took care of us when we were a small country, or those who contributed in making us a country."
"Do you have siblings?"
"Er...yes, a big sister and little sister."
"Oh, how cute!"
"Not really..."
Awkward silence.
You avoided looking at him for a while, but for moment you saw his embarrassed expression with his cheeks pink, eyebrows furrowed, eyes averted, and the ends of his lips tilted downwards. It was pretty cute.
"Is...this what friends talk about?" he asked out of the blue.
You stare at the passing trees, "Uhm, well, just to get to know each other?"
"I see."
You had no idea how to phrase this question without making it sound harsh, "Do you...Uhm. Don't you have..."
"The countries are more like companions or acquaintances. I don't think we can truly be friendly considering the past, but its nice to come together. Anyways, they still are scared of me."
"Why...did you want to be my friend?"
"You seemed...approachable."
...
America's house gave off a homey warm feeling. A shingled house, a porch with a white fence and French doors. You admire the house as you wait for Russia to exit the car. Light illuminated off the snow, and although it was only six, the sky has faded into darkness. The door opened and instead of America greeting you, it was England, "Ah, hello mates." He seemed surprised by your outfit, "What a lovely attire you have on, Miss _."
"Oh, thanks, it's not that-"
England is pushed out of the way by who else, "Hey! Welco- Whoa! Digging the clothes, _!"
"Uhm."
France magically stepped in, "Oh yes, it certainly displays the body you have been hiding. Although nothing can escape from my observant ga-"
A chill crawled on your back, and the three men stepped back in fear. Before you turned around, Italy pulled you inside, "Yay! _ is here! Look Japan! Look!"
"Good evening, _-chan," Japan sat at the dining table besides Germany who was reading the back of a DVD cover.
Germany looks up at you, "Oh, good evening."
They're dressed so casually.
"Wow! You're so pretty! Are you wearing any makeup?" Italy asks bluntly.
"Oi! You're not supposed to ask a woman that Italy!" scolded Germany.
"My face...is just naturally like this?" you respond.
France appears once more flipping his hair, "Nothing is more stunning than natural beauty."
"C'mon guys! Let's go watch movies!" cheered America gesturing everyone to another room.
Three white couches are placed around a flat screen television as well as a sphere chair gave the room a modern feeling. A glass table sat in the middle with alcoholic beverages and soda set up. Italy immediately dominated the sphere chair, America jumped over the couch directly facing the television. You edge your way to the couch next to Italy's seat, you see France motion his way to you, but Russia found his way next to you first. You blush at his eagerness to sit next to you as France grumpily takes his seat at the couch opposite of you with England. Germany sat at the right edge of the middle couch, probably to be close to Italy too. Japan finally took the space left of America.
"So! Who's first? We got a load of new horror that came out this year!"
"Geez, why do you even plan these nights? You're terrified of horror," questioned England.
"Am not! I finally understand its all cameras and special effects! I'm up with all this junk!"
They're arguing again...
You pull off your jacket and stare at Russia, "Aren't you hot in that scarf and coat?"
"Hmm? Not really, I like to be warm and cozy most of the time." You wonder how his coat would feel on you.
"Can I try your coat on? I-I'd like to see how the material feels!" you lied.
Hesitance is shown on his face, but he took the coat off anyway. On him, it reached his waist, but on you it seemed like a dress. The arm sleeves were long and covered your hands, and were baggy. You buttoned it up, and saw it covered the dress you already had on, and almost reached your knees. Like a child, you flapped your arms around smiling foolishly. For the first time you heard him chuckle, "Hold on." To complete the look he wrapped his long scarf around you, in the end, it covered half of your face, but you felt warm. "How do you feel?"
"...Warm and cozy."
"WOW!" exclaimed America. "I wanna switch clothes too! Let's get naked!"
"I agree to that!" chortled France.
Japan gripped his clothes, "Please keep this indecency to yourselves!"
"We did not come here to strip!" yelled England.
"DID SOMEONE SAY STRIP?!" Italy already had his pants off.
"Oh, Lord, what have I done?" you cover your eyes with the scarf.
"Isn't this fun?" asked Russia with no sense of awkwardness in his voice.
...
Everyone sat down when Germany randomly picked a horror flick on Netflix, "Probably the one thing I enjoy in America..." he muttered to himself.
Seeing Russia in a buttoned up shirt made you realize how built his torso must be. Since he didn't ask for his coat and scarf back you tucked your knees under the coat and huddled on the couch. He had a bored expression on his face as the horror movie played, the only one getting a scare out of the movie is Italy and America.
"Is it necessary to see her removing her clothes?" blushed Japan at the nude scene.
"Gotta have that sexual appeal sometimes!" answers America.
"I'm not complaining!" says Italy as he spun around the chair.
At first you thought that was an awkward scene, until a sex scene played out. The entwining of bodies, heavy breathing, over acted moaning. You refused to look at anyone's faces, trying to maturely handle the movie. The volume was way up, "OH!"
"Why..." groaned Japan.
"To show the depth of their relationship!" explained America. You hear this hiss of a soda can, and his loud chugging.
The second movie had a lot more screaming, but it didn't stop you from leaning your head on the couch. Well, you thought it was the couch, but it was too firm, you realize it to be Russia's arm.
It's too awkward to move away now... Maybe if I move slowly...
He didn't move his arm, nor did you move your head. Such comfort you found in this man you met only this week is strange, but it didn't bother you. You stole his jacket, scarf, and now his arm. What next?
Does he not care?!
You remember the conversation you had with him during lunch.
"How is it like being a country?"
"To be honest...it's pretty lonely."
"How so?"
"...we are unable to hold relationships."
"Don't you have each other?"
"No, the other kind of relationships... It's a burden."
You stop leaning on his arm as the conversation in your mind ended. "Oh! America can I speak to you for a second?"
"Totes magotes!" he hopped off the couch and followed you in the hallway. "What's up? Need to pee?"
"No! It's just these events that are in a different location they have my name in it. Maybe someone made a mistake in adding me in the list?"
"Hmm? Nope! You're coming along!"
"Okay, why is this relationship with you countries more personal than business?" you make your palm straight and face it at America, but it is covered with the sleeves. "I appreciate being included in this activities, but I don't understand!"
America sighs, "Look, after World War II, everyone was pretty broken apart. Trust me, the conference meetings were pretty intense back then. Everyone's economy, especially Italy's had a hard time picking themselves up. We all lost something even though the allies won. I just want to patch things up."
"What does that have to do with me? Your assistant?"
"Do you not want to travel?"
"It's not that. I just don't deserve it."
"Do you not like us?"
"I already really like you guys."
"Then, accept these random opportunities."
"You really don't have an answer to my question? Anyone could be in my place?"
"...Yes, but you're here already. That's not changing unless you want it to. You are in control of anything. But do know if it gets serious, you will be involved. So far, everything is great, right?" He gave off a big brother feeling as he places a hand on your shoulder, "Don't worry! It's better you work with us than our bosses." He places a hand on your shoulder and turns you back to the room. "It's your choice whether you want to make this personal or business," he pauses, "But It probably isn't a good choice make the relationship more than friends. Although, even if anyone can be where you are right now, Russia probably wouldn't take interest in just anyone."
You furiously flush, "Why would you say that?"
He nudges you playfully with his elbow as you two enter the room, "Oh c'mon!"
"Friendly conversation?" asks England curiously with an eyebrow raised.
You snort, "With this nerd? Nah."
Italy whined out of the blue, "I'm hungry!"
England cleared his throat with a smirk and stood up, "Well, I guess I'll go prepare us some-" America threw the remote right at his forehead, "BLOODY BUGGERING HELL!"
"Hell no! I'd rather settle for whatever is expired in the back of my fridge! What do you prefer _?"
"I'm always up for Japanese food."
You see Japan's eyes light up, but America pulled him down, "Nah, Japan's portions are so small! I'll never get full!"
"You hardly get full," commented France.
"I think I heard someone say pasta!" Italy jumped out of his chair and started pulling Germany's arm, "Grocery store! Let's go! Come with us _!"
"Oh, okay hang on," you turn back to Russia who fell asleep. You sadly unwrap the scarf and slowly place it around his neck, as you stood up you noticed everyone else watching silently. "...I'm keeping this coat on," you said and ran out the room.
"I'd ask you to get sugar but I'm sure you got enough sitting on that couch," grinned America. Although this guy was your quote "boss" he was asking for a smacking, so you flicked the back of his head. "Nyeh!" England approved with a thumbs up.