-Warnings-
Russian Empire×Union
Blood
Strong langauge
Torture
________ ______________ ______ _____ ___
__________-Young Eric POV-_ _-1861-_____
Slowly frostbitten, is the only way the state of my heart could be described. Slowly every emotion I had ever felt started becoming vague.
"You say he was suddenly created from the civil war?" A more powerful country asked, I recognized him as Italy.
"Yes." I felt the cold roots dig deeper. If this trend kept going, I doubt light would reflect in my eyes.
"That's odd, considering he looks exactly like you."
"I'm wondering about that too." I leaned myself over the table, pretending to flip through pages.
"I don't see any reason to support you, I'm leaving," Italy got up, "if anyone agrees that we should leave King Corn and King Cotton to tear eachother apart." Italy chuckled, quickly leaving.
I looked over at Britian and France, both seeming to be unsure of a decision.
Aware of the shuffling of countries begining to leave my desperation for help heightened.
"Sorry, I don't want to get involved with your affairs." Britain finally concluded, joining the departing.
France and I made eye contact, I already knew his answer.
My heart began to tear as I became the only one in the room.
"You'll be the lonely one." Confederate said behind me.
I slowly shuffled to look at him.
I had nothing to say, so I only glared at the person who replaced my brother.
Confederate grinned, begining to walk towards me.
My heart jumped in my throat, I flinched backwards with unstable steps.
Quickly I reached back for my blade that rested on my hip.
Confederates head slightly turned, his glare burning a hole through me.
"Don't." I put the opposite hand of the one resting on my blade out, palm open I warned Confederate. My breath was excelerating as my knees bent.
"Don't do what?" He said, folding his hands behind his back.
"Stay away from me, I will hurt you if you refuse." I threatened, my voice wavering.
Confederate feigned jumping at me, making a slight snarl.
My blade rested at eye level, touching his throat.
"Do it." Confederate smiled.
The blade shook from my trembling hands.
Confederate was my brother.
I lowered my blade.
"You know you can't kill your own brother."
"But I would."
A much larger country grabbed Confederate by his shoulders, pulling him backwards.
Confederate tumbled then turned to glare at the other country, his eyes bulging out of his sockets from the identity of the newcomer.
"Get out." Russian Empire plainly stared down at the much smaller Confederate.
We both froze awestruck by the massive man.
"You have no right t-" Confederate was thrown forward toward the door, being herded like a cat out of the room.
"There we go, out of the room little guy." Russian Empire gave one more shove to Confederate then closed the door trying to keep him from getting back in.
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