Friends, Enemies, Lovers

Chapter 7

2 days later:

It's been....okay, I guess. Staying here with Soviet. He's been helping me with my wounds and making sure I don't move too much. It reminds me of how he treated me when we were children. Whenever I fell over he would help me up and put a bandage on. It would always make my cheeks heat up. I also remember the time he kissed me...

"Brit briiit, hey you okay." Asks a voice. It's Soviet.

"Hmm? Oh yes, I'm fine."

"Okay, you've been zoning out quite a lot, maby it's the loss of blood."

"Wonder who's fault that was." I smirk.

He just rolls his eyes and sits next to me, looking in the other direction. I yawn and wrap my wings around myself, it's like 2:00am right now and my eyes are getting heavy.

I don't want to be here anymore, I want to go home, but I'm to weak. And like Soviet said, there are patrollers that will probably kill me if I'm seen. Not to mention that my wing still hurts like bloody hell.

Soviet said that by the time I'm healed he'd help me get back. But I don't see the point, don't you just take me home now? Probably because he wants to bond alittle more. After all we haven't spoken to each other in years.

I eyes are getting really heavy now, it hurts to keep them open. I give up and let the darkness consume me.

Soviet's pov:

I feel terrible for shooting Brit, but I had no choice. There were soldiers surrounding me, they all knew that I had him in my sites. If I didn't at least shoot him I'd be seen as a fool. So, I faked it, and now everyone thinks he's dead, which means it's going to be difficult getting him back home.

Suddenly, there's a small thud on my left arm. I look down to see Brit, passed out. 'The sleep must of finally got to him.' I think to myself. I blush slightly at the cute little country on my arm. He sleeps peacefully.

I lean down and kiss him on the head, he blushes a little in his sleep and smiles, wrapping his arms around my waist. My face gets even reder than it usually is.

My eyes start to feel heavy and I let out a small yawn. I can't be bothered to stay awake any longer, I close my eyes and drift to sleep.

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The sound of birds singing outside fills my head. It's kind of annoying actually. I flutter open my eyes and glance around the main room I fell asleep in. The soft light leaks through the curtains, hitting the floor making it look shiny. The fire that was going had died down, leaving nothing but soot and grey, burnt, crusty wood. I flop my head back down to try and go back to sleep.

But I notice something warm and fuzzy on my head. I reach up my hand touch something, I pull it off my head. 'Soviet's hat?' I think to myself, feeling the soft fur inside. I don't feel like questioning why this is on my head right now. I lay back down and close my eyes.

I suddenly flinch as someone puts their arm over my waist. I shoot up looking behind me. Soviet?

I see a sleeping Soviet laying down behind me, he looks very peaceful and calm. But his expression turns from calm and intent to a disturbed frown. He flings his arm back around my waist and pulls me down next to him, so that we're both face to face.

He flutters his eye open.

"Mornin' Brit." He mumbles. I feel a bit uncomfortable about all this right now.

"Soviet, the bloody hell are you doi-." I'm cut off, by Soviet kissing me. On the lips. My eyes shoot wide open and I push him off me.

"S-sovi, the bloody 'fuck' are you doing?" I ask, panting.

He sits up looking completely puzzled.

"What, what is it?...and why are you wearing hat?" He asks. This man I swear.

"Y-you just KISSED me you idiot!" I yell. Seriously is this guy okay, did he bump his head or something?

"I-I did!?" I says, raising his voice.

"YES YOU BLOODY DID YOU WANKER!" I shout.

Soviet doesn't say anything, he just sits there. Looking like he just threw a rubber ball at a five year old.

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Help I'm running out of ideas 🥲

Word count: 761