"Wake up, da?" Something soft brushed your cheekbone, and your eyes flutter open.
Your vision slightly fuzzy, you can make out the shape of a massive person, then on the other side of your bed a smaller one that must be Lithuania.
Lithuania was shaking, "M-M-Mister Russia, she ran off while I was not looking! We chased her, w-w-we tried-"
Your eyes close for a brief moment, and in that moment you hear a crash then Lithuania yelp, and run from the room.
When your eyes open again you can't see Lithuania, but your vision has cleared slightly. Now, you can make out the eyes that are fixed on you from above.
Immediately, you shriek. "Y-Y-You!"
Russia giggled, and pointed to himself. "Me?"
Your hand goes up to push his face away from you, but you find that you are weak and your arm just falls back down. Russia giggles at this.
You take in your surroundings, and then gasp. "My stomach!"
Russia pushed you gently back into the pillows. "You can calm down, da? That running simply re-opened a wound you had. Latvia fixed it."
You scowled, teeth gritted at him. "Why was I wounded that badly anyways?"
Anger passed over Russia's face, and you squirmed slightly. "Because, the three of them don't even know how to carry dead weight right."
You cringe, and then finally ask the question you know you needed to. "Why? Why did you do this?"
Russia giggled loudly, as if he was having the most fun in the world. "This way, you can be one, da?"
"What?!"
"You are rude when you have your own free will in decisions. I like it better this way." Russia held out a hand to help prop you up.
Refusing to take it, you narrow your eyes. "America WILL find out, you know."
Russia shrugged. "Probably not."
"Why wouldn't he?"
"He's not very smart, da? Also, no-one has any idea you got that letter, and only the Kimberly girl knows I ever even spoke with you. If needed, I can silence her."
"B-Bastard!" You gasp, frantically trying to sit up by yourself, to run, to escape.
Russia sighed, frowning slightly. "Either way, it's not like you exactly have a choice. My whole home is set with brand new security forces, just for you."
"How sweet." You hiss sarcastically, teeth barred.
"The glass windows have all been replaced with plexi-glass so no-one can get in-"
"So I can't get out-" You interrupt.
"-and I have the key to the doors so that no-one can just walk in-"
Again, you interrupt. "So that I can't just walk out."
"-and if you get any help from my friends-"
"Servants!"
"-I'll kill them. Okay?" Russia smiled at you happily, but you found the notion sadistic.
There is silence, and finally, slowly, you whisper in a voice the wind nearly swept away. "…Okay…"
Russia seemed delighted by this. "Perfect! Dinner is soon; one of the servants will come to retrieve you."
He does not offer this time, before propping you up by himself. You growl in protest, an animalistic sound. Russia raises his brows, "Are you hurt? Estonia bandaged you again, and medicated you thouroughly, da?"
You push him away, (Or more, he let you because you had no real strength at the moment), and close your eyes. "N-No… I'm not."
Again, Russia smiled. "Well, that is good." Standing, he strode to the doorway and stopped there, looking back. "If you need anything, just call out. I am sure someone will hear."
"Eventually someone will find out. T-They wouldn't… forget about me…" You uncertainly looked away.
Russia tilted his head, halfway out the door. "Well, we will see, da?" Then he was out the door, gone. You noticed he didn't bother to shut it; cocky bastard.
For a few minutes, you lie there, frozen in place by the news you just received. Then, like the professional organizer you are you begin to put together the events that just happened to you. Russia has kidnapped you, with the help of the Baltics, for reasons he did not exactly say, but mentioned you where rude when you had your own free decsisions and that you must become one. He was not being completely hostile, kind even in a way. Why did he invite you to dinner? Surely, he must be waiting to torture you there and get answers about Mister America.
Maybe…
Finally, you began to move and slipped out of the bed, before moving to the door and locking it. On the dresser, you observed, where two long dresses appropriate for a high scale nation party. One was more a dress coat than anything else, made of thick fabric much like that of his coat, but this one trailed down the whole way to the floor. It's double breasted buttons where indeed cute, but you looked at the other dress anyways.
This one was absolutely ravishing, far beyond anything you could ever afford, even with your well paying job! The dress was long, and made of some kind of silky black material. However, in the light the dress changed to hues of orange and gold and red. It reminded you of a burning coal of a fire; warm, full of light.
Warm. You remember from years ago Russia's words.
'It is very cold in my home, so it is nice to be warm for once, da?'
Deciding on the ember dress, you slip it on and then inspect yourself in the mirrors. It is beautiful, the way it glimmered and almost seemed to spark every time sunlight hit you. Then, you pull your hair back into a bun. Best to look professional, and if he is going to keep you here you need to find a way out, without showing him he can have any affection from you. He can make you dress in fancy clothing, and lavish you, but you will not succumb to anything he wants.
In truth, you would rather die than give him any information on America.
You blink into the mirror, then frown in distaste to see that you're make-up has been significantly smeared and you look like you have been crying tears of tar.
Suddenly, a hand touched your shoulder.
Shrieking, you spin around and hold out your hands, ready to strike the attackers pressure point.
You're eyes meet a pair of green ones, wide and frightened. "I-I'm sorry! I came to- uhh-" Lithuania was shaking, hands held out in front of himself. "Please don't hit me again!"
You relax, sighing. "S-Sorry, Lithuania. You're a friend of Mister America's, and thus a friend of mine."
Lithuania frowned, waving his hands frantically. "No, don't call him that! You must only refer to Mister Russia as a Mister! Don't make him angry—you look like a nice girl, and that makes it worse!"
You roll your eyes. "Mister America is my boss, not Russia."
"You're still doing it!"
Gently, you put a hand on Lithuania's shoulder. "Look, I will not stop, no matter the conesquences. Okay?"
Lithuania slowly, grudgingly, accepted this. "Fine…"
"So, what are you here for?"
"Oh." Lithuania nodded, pulling out a box from the ground you had not realized he had set down. "Here, I was instructed to help you with this."
As he opens the latch on the box with a click, you see a lot of very expensive, very NICE makeup. "Uhm… what?" Completely baffled, you tried to process this in your disoriented state.
Lithuania sighed, "He wants you to look nice."
Once again, your eyes roll. "Hmph. I don't care. Besides…" Your hands are still shaking badly from weakness, and you realize hunger scratching at your insides. "With my shakiness, how am I going to do my make-up?"
Lithuania smiled sweetly, and suddenly you felt guilty for hurting him. "I can do it."
You, despite yourself, giggle. "What? You?"
Lithuania sighed miserably, "Poland taught me, a long time ago, how to do make-up. It's kind of like painting if you think about it."
Gingerly, you sit in a chair he pulls out from the desk and pats, eyebrows arched. "I didn't know you where Poland's ally at one point."
Lithuania, while pulling out make-up remover, spoke from behind your ear kindly. This made you calm, a kind voice that seemed completely honest and familiar. "Yes, I was; Right before I was Mister Russia's."
"Is Poland nice?" You question innocently, thinking that if Russia is going to slaughter you within a matter of hours it couldn't harm to pry a little.
Lithuania's hands where now holding a cotton swab, and he gently stroked the previous make-up off of your face. "Yes, I do think he means well."
You ponder what this means. Does he not come off like he means to be nice?
"Oh…" You inspect your now clean face in the mirror. "'I'm guessing you don't have any tips for what I'm about to face?"
Lithuania jumped. "What do you mean? Dinner?"
"Please, cut the lies. What kind of torture? Humiliation? Pain? What?"
Lithuania seemed completely, and utterly confused. "I-I don't know what you are talking about…"
Huffing angrily, you just snap at him, "Fine then, I'll find out by myself." Then change the subject. "You really are good at this make-up stuff, you know."
He was by now applying concealer to your skin, making it a lovely ivory shade. After he was done with that, he brushed on tones of rich colors, until you looked like utterly stunning. "I know." He finally muttered. "Now, off you go. Dinner is done cooking."
Nodding sullenly, you stand. Lithuania begins to lead you through the halls, but suddenly you hug him. He jumps, and then begins to shiver. "I-If he sees this, he will not take it as a token of thanks!"
"Whoops." Then you square your shoulders, suck in a deep breath, and begin to go down the stairs into the dining room.
