Trust is Dangerous- Russia x Germany

Modern Problems

As soon as I sprinted down the walkway and away from sight, I was filled with irrational guilt. I shouldn't have taken such a little thing so seriously, but I did, and I suffer the consequences. I didn't look back, but instead trudged along to my college, away from people. I was glad Iceland was away doing something so I had the whole room to myself. I opened the balcony door and just sat down on the cold floor. I couldn't even think about anything else but what I did. I desperately wanted to go and find Japan and ask for forgiveness, but every time I vowed to stand up, my heart started to hammer in my chest, and I sat back down again, on the hard plastic flooring of the balcony. I felt my shoulders round and my posture slump and wanted to cry. Tears didn't come, but my back did start to hurt. I took out my phone and dialed my father's number. I knew that he might be still working, but I didn't know who else to confide in. After a long pause, he picked up and the sound of grinding machines in the back filled my ears.

"Hello?" He said gruffly. "Talk to me." I dialled his work phone. It didn't have a caller identification.

"Hi papa." I heard my voice become an octave higher. "I kind of need to talk to you."

The sound of machines faded out. "I am listening." It didn't sound like he was in the mood to talk.

"Um...I need advice."

"Ugh, advice." I heard a lighter click. He must be smoking. "About what? Academics?"

"No..." I sighed.

"Dont evade then," he said. "Tell me."

"I-I've just had a...I made a mistake. With one of my friends."

A pause. "Hmm, and so?"

"A-and, I kind of...well...didn't do the correct thing...and I feel guilty about it."

"Ah, Russia. Is there nothing else in the world you have to worry about?" He pleaded. "This sounds frivolous enough. Just say sorry. You don't necessarily have to be, but people love it. I do it all the time. It works."

"But..."

"Russia. Listen to me." He growled into the receiver. "I tell you one thing: friends are like gloves. You need them sometimes, sometimes you do not. If you lose them, you can always get more. Some stay, some get lost. It's their problem. Not yours."

"I...you're right, I guess." I said, defeated.

"I'm not saying this to make you feel bad, Russia. It's just you must not hurt yourself just because others are so sensitive. Who is going to live with you for the rest of your life? Only you. Nobody else. Not even me. Just you. Understand?"

"Yes."

"So don't run yourself in a corner." He continued. "If you have that much trouble, talk to Dr. Austria. It is his job to help you, after all. Okay?" His voice softened at the end. No matter how annoyed he was, he would always help me with anything.

"Alright." I made my voice even once more.

"Good. Call me again if anything." He ended the call rather quickly. I sighed in longing. Sometimes I felt that my father never understood what I was going through. His problems were centred around hunger, cold and not enough money. Mine were different, and could be called laughable against my father's. I considered them serious and would rather be faced with anything but my own problems. Deciding that I would rather not see or apologise to anyone, I put on my dark greenish grey coat with the fur trim and set out, almost like a sniper, to Dr. Austria's office. It is very hard to sneak around if you are one of the tallest people on campus, I had to admit. In about three seconds, fifteen people said 'hi' to me and three waved. Slovakia even paused to chat about the homework we were given in class. I pulled the hood over my head, even though I was roasting alive. For February, the sun was blazing and the air became almost still. Lucky me. Panting, I made my way to the small and familiar half cottage, half office like small one story building. Switzerland, the snobbish but also uncannily organised teenager was sitting at the front desk, manning three monitors but scrolling though his phone. He had in, of course, the latest model of earphones and the most up to date phone and the trendiest watch, but apparently his father had picked out his wardrobe, by the looks of his blazer and bowtie. He looked up at me as I closed the front door. It had a bell attached to it. I vowed to not agitate the bell the next time I came. Putting on a fake smile I approached him and asked for Dr. Austria.