Countryhumans One shots! (cause shipping is cute)

Snowstorm (Thirdunion Vampire AU pt 2)

Disclaimer: I don't support nazism (Ew, gosh, no, that's disgusting!!!). This is just a story of fictional characters in a little fictional world. If you don't feel comfortable with this, just skip this chapter. Thank u!

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Soviet's POV

He walked around the halls, touching carefully the soft carvings of wooden doors, standing in front of enormous paintings and humming as his feet echoed on the lonely space.

A few weeks had passed since the day he had woken up on his friend's mansion, and he had been recovering quite nicely.

Third had taken good care of him until he had been able to move on his own, and now he tried helping the other in everything he could, trying to stay another day more. He knew he would have to go soon, but neither of them seemed really happy with the idea, always evading the subject and contently spending the day together.

Or should he say night?

That was something he had been noticing just now that he could roam freely out of the bed. Third would always wake up after sunset, starting his routine when the sun disappeared into the horizon and the moon started raising. Not even once had they have a "normal" day and the curtains of the place were always drawn at day.

Of course Third had told him he worked at night, so he had gotten used to the weird schedule, but he hadn't seen him get out of the house too much, just a few nights a week.

Like this one.

He sighed, wondering what his "not so supernatural friend" could be doing right now. The guy was a strange mix of weird and wonderful, and he was having a hard time processing all of it.

They had been building their day to day slowly, getting to know each other in the middle of silences and conversations -now that he thought about it, he had never seen Third talking-, they passed the time together, dividing chores, and making the other company.

Some days they had spent the night cleaning the enormous house, dusting shelves and mopping floors, even if they knew the place was too big to ever finish it with just the two of them. Other days they just sat at the library, reading under the light of candles and sometimes sharing the plot of their respective novels, with dramatic voices and all.

He continued walking, entering rooms and passing halls, sometimes recognizing places he had already seen, and sometimes just getting lost. The minutes passed, and he soon found himself in front a flight of stairs he had never seen before. Curious, he entered what seemed like a new floor that guided to another wing of the mansion.

The air was thick in here, the smell of humidity and old stuff reaching his face in the form of cold but heavy fumes.

He entered a long hallway that ended in an enormous door, the walls filled with new portraits, seemingly a lot older than the ones he had seen before. The clothes of the people in the paintings was one he had only seen in some of the paintings of the antique church, paintings that had belonged to another church in other place, before the construction of the town itself.

He wondered for a minute how old this place really was.

If the mansion had been here even before the town, it had probably been completely isolated from the rest of the world. Why would Third's ancestors choose such a lonely place to live?

He sighed and continued walking, approaching the black door at the end of the hallway. He pushed it with all his strength, but it didn't move an inch. He took a few steps back before running to the door and pushing it with his shoulder, but it stood still.