Russian Roulette | Rusame | Countryhumans AU

Untold Feelings

As the last note echoed through the room, she sighed, placing her seemingly delicate hands on her lap. The starry sky reflected onto her glasses, America saw all of it, and hidden within her eyes were also, a hint of sorrow.

It was a long time ago. Yet Germany remembers everything, crystal clear in her brain. How he gripped his gun, the way the warmth drained out of his body in her embrace, the excruciating pain when the bullet shot through her head, and especially, a devoid hollowness inside her that could never be appeased.

Though what happened after that... she could barely recall. Back then, she felt her body move on its own, step by step she stumbled down the stairs. The front door creaked open as the moonlight bathed her skin in a silver glow, a heavy stench of iron creeped out the ajar door.

Drops of blood slid down her cheek, deprived of warmth.

Then, a pair of hands felt around the dirt ground, gripping onto empty air as if trying to find something. Her face shifted slightly when she managed to grasp something, a rough wooden stick.

Bringing it onto the soil, it formed an image, line by line, piano keys, sloppily drawn on with wiggly lines. She placed her hand on the right hand side, a melody filled her ears.

Yet it was played entirely in treble.

A death sonata.

Even when the sun peeked it's way above the horizon, the little girl merely sat there without a single tear in her eye, covered in grime and blood.

"And the next thing I knew, palace guards brought me to the government officials and charged me with murder, as well as the heinous crimes that man did." The German lady lowered the piano fallboard, with a slight tremble in her voice.

The prince always picked up on every single micro expression she made, it was one of the only ways America could tell how she felt through that stone cold facade of hers.

An awfully uncomfortable smile tugged at her lips, "they said they'll throw me in prison unless I worked for them. I did it to save my own skin. What else was I supposed to do?"

She continued before America could respond to her rhetorical question, "How bold of you to recruit me, when my very reason for working with them is to avoid becoming a criminal in the first place."

They stared into each other's eyes, neither said a word, that was, until a lackluster smile spread across America's face, "You must really hate me then."

"...what I hate is your creation, a weapon without its wielder is hardly threatening. It should not be held accountable for its user's sins." Though she was referring to the gun Reich used to kill her as well as end his life, she eluded to another hidden meaning behind her words.

A gifted prince, burdened by the wrongdoings of his puppeteer.

After a pause, nervous chuckles spilled out of America's throat, "since when did this become about me?"

"Since you started talking to me tonight, it's your revolution is it not?"

"Fair enough, but then again... I still wonder how he managed to break into the palace and steal that prototype gun I was working on."

"He has a way with words, it's his ability after all."

"Well, what's done is done."

The German lady sprung to her feet, footsteps echoed in the room. Right as she was about to leave, she turned back, "tell me, will joining you really help me break free?"