Trust is Dangerous- Russia x Germany

A Nightmare For Both Sides

I never thought that Britian could be this insane. When he told me a job, I thought it might be something with manual labour, manning machinery, or maybe a computing job. Basically, away from interacting with people. I always messed up royally when speaking and presenting. This royal, Britain, thought it would be great if I TAUGHT at his school! Me? Teach children? Granted, these were already adults, but in my eyes, same thing. To make sense of all of this trouble, I had to rewind everything to the beginning.

The next day after I got fired was awful. I woke up by falling off of my bed and onto the floor. My alarm clock rung off the hook and dropped onto my head. Great. Nice start of the day. I drove Kazakhstan to his day care, saw Ukraine and Belarus to school and then went inside to mope around. I waited for Britain's call all morning long, and then when my patience couldn't take it anymore, I left to go work the garden and let the chickens out of their pen. Overwhelming guilt and worthlessness overcame me, and I felt very self conscious of all my actions. I always had the nagging feeling that I didn't deserve anything. It was warmer outside today than it was all week, and the sun smiled to all her subjects on earth. Next thing I knew, I was lying face down in the dirt. I didn't even try to get up, but lifted my head up to survey my surroundings. If somebody saw me now, they might think that I was a moronic and crazy old man with nothing to do. Caramel, Belarus' rooster, came to peck at my ushanka, thinking that I might have corn in it. I don't like to say my favourite things, but the best chicken in the flock was a simple white chicken named Sunny that really loved me for some reason. She'd always try to hop up on me and knew that I'd always bring food. She looked at me curiously, her little innocent eyes shining, waiting till I gave her food. People can disagree, but chickens are as loyal as dogs. In peacetime, anyway.

Once I had finished herding all of the chickens in, brushed myself off, and smoked two Pobeda cigarettes, I went back into the house. As I had absolutely nothing to do, so I sat in a chair and absentmindedly stared at the wall. The clock ticking next to me on the wall adjacent was almost soothing, and I felt tired once more. I leaned my head on the wall and sighed, wanting to doze off. My phone ringing was what snapped me out of the trance very quickly.

"Uh, hello," I tried to make my voice sound awake. I didn't even check the caller identification before I picked up. It could've been a telemarketer. I prepared for anything.

"Ah, good afternoon Soviet," Oh, it was Britain.

"Ah, you called...before?" I had no idea if he called while I was outside.

"Yes. Ten times now," he didn't seem very irritated, though. I would've not been a pretty sight if I was on the other end.

"Oh, sorry. I was busy outside, and, ah," I felt my words jumble together into an unintelligible pile of bad English. How dumb must I sound on the other end. I didn't need to imagine, since the tiny echo told the whole story.

"No worries. I understood such," he comforted. "I was going to continue our conversation that we had yesterday."

"Ah, yes. The conversation." I nodded.

He continued after clearing his throat loudly. "So. I think I've found a very good job for you. Great benefits, high salary, and a very successful track."

"Mhmm,"

"What is your experience in...Ah, how can I put this....teaching?"

"Well, I have taught my employees at my factory...and with relative success, yes, because of the working conditions, most made out fine."

"Excellent," he said, seemingly relieved. I didn't know how this related to what he was going for. "Are you comfortable with moving?"

"Permanently?"