Feel Better || SovAme

Chapter Four

Ussr Pov:

I look back at America,
"Does it matter why?" I pull my arm back, "Go lay down on the couch, I'll be back to actually clean the blood off the floor." America looks at me confused. "Your room..."

"Oh, sorry." He looks down, embarrassed as he walks over to the couch, I follow soon behind him. I leave his small apartment. Shutting the door I walk to my car and drive home.

"You're home early." Ukraine mentions once I open the door. It was true, normally I would be at a bar or some sort of meeting, not coming home till much later.

"I'll be leaving soon anyways so pay no attention to me." I walk upstairs to the laundry room, reaching in the cabinets. I grab hydrogen peroxide, bleach and a sponge.

"Where are you going where you need that?" Russia asks, coming out of his room at the same time as me. Looking back at him, I stay silent just walking down stairs and heading back to America's apartment.

I knock on the door, it takes a minute but America actually answers this time.

"You need that much to clean the blood?" America seemed surprised at how much I had in my hands. Nodding, I walk into his room, open the windows and push any furniture away from the stain.

I poar they hydrogen peroxide onto the stain, it starts foaming at the sides.

"Done already?" He asks shocked

"No, I have to let hy hydrogen sit for a while before I can clean it." I respond, what I will do for that time I don't know.

"Well sit somewhere, you look awkward just standing there." America exclaims almost as if we were friends. We aren't.

3rd person pov

The soviet walks over and sits uncomfortably in a chair across the room from America. He watches the tv, every once in a while sending glances over to the other before pulling out his phone. It was filled with text messages from his family.

"When are you coming home?"

"Where did you run off to? A new 'friend's' house?"

"Will you be home for dinner? If not, I'm taking everyone to mcdonalds."

And other messages of his family asking why he wouldn't answer, where he was and asking about dinner plans. Ussr answered most of the messages except the questions on where he is. They didn't need to know that he was at the American's house.

While answering the messages he kept sending glances to the tv, america and back to his phone. America was watching a sappy reality show, half paying attention to the show and half to his phone and just looking around the room.

A few times they would make awkward eye contact, before one of them would quickly look away.

An hour passes of the same silence, the tv being the only sound. Ussr checks the time of his phone and mumbles to himself, "I'll let it sit a while longer..."

America's head perks up at the sound of the soviets voice, "sorry did you say something?"

The taller country shakes his head, "Nothing to you."

"Oh ok..." America almost sounded disappointed that he hadn't.

A while longer passed before Ussr decided to go back to the room to clean up. America traces his movement with his eyes and watches the taller country disappear.

10 minutes passed since Ame had heard from Ussr. He gets up and walks over to his room, the intense scent of hydrogen peroxide floods his nose.
"Bleeh" America says, waving air away from his face. The figure of the taller country is hunched over the floor, mumbling to himself as he scrubs at the floor.
"How's it going?" America asks, trying to make small talk. The sudden noise startled the soviet.

"Huh? Oh. Normal, the blood is mostly new so it's not that hard to get out." Ussr says pretty bluntly, still focused on his work.

"Do you need any help?" America asked, feeling bad for all the trouble he has put the other country through.

"Not from you." Ussr says bluntly. America's eyebrows furrow, 'rude.' he thought to himself. I turned on his heel, walking back to the living room.

A/N: Sorry this chapter kind of sucks and that it was late, I'll try to update it every Friday from now on.