The Enduring Hunters

Chapter 7: Bad Date

Russia and America arrived at the restaurant. They went inside and walked over to the Hostess.

"Good evening, I have a reservation for two people." Russia put up two fingers as he spoke. "It's under the name Russian Federation."

The hostess smiled. "Yes, right this way." They began to lead them to their table.

America observed the place as he walked. He noted on how expensive it looked. He could see Russia was really trying.

Russia and America were seated at a little round table away from everyone else. It was very isolated. Just like how Russia requested.

They both sat down and picked up their menus. America put his menu aside. "I'll get whatever you're getting." He did this so that their food would for sure come at the same time. It would be awkward to eat or to wait if someone got their plate first.

Russia nodded and stacked his menu on top of America's. "Very well."

"This place is very nice and eloquent." America chimed.

"Only the best for you."

America smiled at that. "Glad you understand my standards."

Russia nodded. He was trying to think when the best time would be to poison him. He decided to wait for an opportunity before coming up with a distraction. He wasn't a very patient person and he wanted to fix that.

Someone came and filled their glasses with water and placed a basket of breadsticks on their table. Both of the boys said thank you at the same time.

America picked up his glass of water and studied it before sipping it. "What job do you have that pays so well to afford something like this" he joked.

Russia stiffened a little. He obviously knew he couldn't tell him he was a bounty hunter. "I basically file old police reports."

"And they trust you with that?" America asked.

"Of course they do, it's outdated reports! I'm only organizing them. You don't think I'm trustworthy?"

"Absolutely not."

"Why is that?"

America slightly leaned over the table. "Because trust should never be given. It's earned."

"Aw did someone hurt you?" Russia sipped his water.

America ignored him. "You'd be an idiot if you waited for someone to give you a reason not to trust them. You're only setting yourself up to be disappointed by everyone."

"Thank you for your very wise words America. I'm not disagreeing with you but I'd prefer if you shoved a breadstick into your mouth and stopped talking."

America rolled his eyes and reached over to grabbed a breadstick and immediately bit into it aggressively. "For the record, you're the one that asked jackass." America hated to be shut down when talking. He was ready to go home.

While America moved away to sit regularly in his chair, Russia noticed he had a giant scratch on his neck that was partially covered by his shirt collar. Russia could tell it was a fresh cut. It stained blood on the inside of his shirt.

"What happened to your neck?" asked Russia.

"Why are you examining my neck?" questioned America.

"Why can't you just answer my question?" dwelled Russia.

"Do you wish to bite my neck like how I bit into my breadsticks?" persisted America.

"Sorry to disappoint you but your neck doesn't look that appetizing, it's dripping blood." remarked Russia.

"That didn't answer my question." uttered America

"Well you aren't answering any of my questions." Russia shot back.

"It appears we are even then." America said while taking a bite.

It was quiet for 3 seconds.

"You couldn't handle my teeth on your neck anyways considering the fact you have a scratch on it. I bet your baby bitch fragile neck got that from a paper cut." challenged Russia.

"Stop trying to seduce me rookie." said America. "It was from a metal tape measure. I was measuring something in my room and I accidentally retracted it too quickly and it sliced my neck." America was lying. That was no tape measure.

Russia crossed his arms. "And you say I'm untrustworthy."

America opened his mouth to say something snarky back at Russia but their waiter came to their table.

"Good evening, my name is Iran and I will be your waiter— oh comrade Russia! And...America...?"

Russia was hoping not to run into anyone. How was he going to explain himself? He obviously couldn't say that he wasn't really on a date with a douche bag and his true intentions were to kill him. He also didn't want people thinking he was actually gay. Word travels fast.

Russia figured the best solution would be to not give an explanation at all. Russia smiled at Iran, "Hello comrade!"

America plastered on a smile as well. "Hello, how've you been?" He has a feud with Iran. America didn't consider being polite to someone you hate as being fake, it was simply just being mature.

Iran forced a smile as well. He didn't understand why Russia would ever agree to dine with America, he was extremely disgusted by the sight. He really hoped that they weren't dating. He took out his notepad and pen. "Can I get you anything to drink?"

"Yes, actually we are ready to order our food as well." said the American.

"Great!" Iran said as he waited to hear their orders.

"2 vodkas and we will both have the Shchi." said Russia.

America nodded. "Instead of a vodka for me, I'd like a whiskey please."

Russia turned to face America. "Who said one of the vodkas were for you?"

America and Iran both laughed.

Iran jotted everything on the paper. "Coming right up!" He walked away.

America turned to Russia. "Why are you planning to get 2 vodkas? Are you forgetting you're driving me home?"

"Not at all. 2 vodkas can't get me drunk."

"Fine. Could you tell me what the fuck Shchi is?"

"It's a cabbage soup. You'll like it."

"Fine. Can we switch our waiter or eat somewhere else? I don't feel comfortable with Iran being our—"

"America you're being paranoid. You aren't going to die. Relax."

"I can't help that I have many concerns." America did not feel relaxed. He was worried he might have to end up walking home because he didn't exactly know where he was. He also was worried because he had no idea what he was about to eat, he thought Russia would pick something he was familiar with. He also did not get along with Iran and was worried he would try something when he was most vulnerable.

"You're being dramatic. You'll get home safely, your fat ass will like the food, and I'm sure you could handle yourself if Iran did something." Russia said mockingly at him.

America wanted a break from all the stress. Now he really wanted to leave. The last thing he needed was Russia taunting him. He stood up. "Excuse me for a minute. I will be right back." He walked over to the bathroom.

America left. The realization rang in Russia's brain.

He knew what time it was.