Love Doesn't Have Words [SLOW UPDATES]

-Forgiveness-

real sorry for the wait lol, but i did warn you. this is an important chapter for me, one i've been planning since i started writing this. i am way too tired to go back and make sure all my verb tenses are correct, so ignore that and any typos. enjoy
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Well. That's sure a face I never thought I would see again. To be fair, I thought they moved far, far away, and I'm certain there was some sort of restraining order against my father. Though, I guess that doesn't matter anymore.

Ah scheisse, I have definitely been staring for too long. Poland nudges my back with her elbow, and i can see her confused look in my peripherals. This is going to be one awkward conversation.

So we don't have it.

I put out my hand. I smile, trying my best to appear friendly despite my sharp teeth (and my albeit shitty history with this guy).

"Hallo! You must be Russia, yes?" I say, as a hesitant hand grasps mine in a not-so-firm shake. I only get a nod in response. Of course he's still bent up about it, I would be too. Not to mention the recent stuff.

I can't believe I didn't notice that the lanky dude in the halls was the same fifth grader in that park. I thought his image was too burned into my brain for me to not immediately recognize him, but I guess I was wrong. Maybe I tried to repress it so hard it somewhat worked.

"O-kay, let's get on that ice!" exclaims the blue one, Estonia if my memory is correct. The others follow suit, though I'm tugged back before I can join.

Poland looks concerned. I hate it when her eyes go all big and worried like that, because I know I can't lie to her. Not with that look, and not with her hand clutching my sweater that cutely.

"Niemcy, you okay? If you want to go home, I can tell them I don't feel good."

"No, no," I reassure her with a pat on the shoulder, "I'm perfectly fine. Russia just looked a little familiar, is all." Technically, I'm not lying.

"Oh, okay. I think you two knew each other before he moved." So he did move away, but came back. "No matter, I want to get to skating!"

We went onto the ice with our hands intwined. She was a natural on the ice, many of this group was. Except for America, which was a little odd to see. He was so prideful and sporty from what I saw of him in school, seeing a clumsy, bashful side of him is... Well, it's hilarious. But it's also heartwarming to see that he is acting that way because of who he's with: Russia. I'm glad. He deserves someone to depend on.

I've always liked skating. I can't really describe why, either. Maybe the cold reminds me of home, maybe it's the memories of skating in my childhood, maybe it's how graceful Poland looks while helping her friends balance. Whatever it is, I sure enjoy it.

Eventually, Poland skated to my side, and I smile. With us, skate dates aren't too uncommon. But they aren't like usual skate dates, where one of them is an expert and the other can barely move without holding on to the barriers. Neither of us were bound to fall into the others arms or anything dumb and cheesy like that. We were both quite proficient skaters, and instead enjoyed each other's company on the ice. For a while, we just skate the loops while holding hands. We do some tricks here and there, spinning her, or skating backwards, or on one foot. Occasionally, we even try to race, but Poland usually wins.

At some point, we group up with the others. They're all fairing well on the ice and having fun. Then I spot Russia. Of course, he's having fun, too, but there's something off about him. He seems apprehensive, or paranoid. Then I remember that I'm probably the reason why. If only we could talk this out... Oh, wait, we could. No time like the present, or whatever.