Russian Roulette | Rusame | Countryhumans AU

Two Sides of the Same Coin

Once again Switzerland made his way to the stage, "thank you for your patience honorable guests, let us continue this event." Radiant light illuminated him in the center of the stage, gathering everyone's attention almost immediately.

From the corner of his eye he managed to make out a cloaked figure, he recognized that shabby cloak anywhere. AU also noticed him looking at her, in response she waved. Although Switzerland couldn't see her face, he knew she was probably grinning.

"Let's start with the next item shall we?"

In the booth, America remained peering over the railings, his eyes followed Switzerland's line of sight. The prince noticed the cloaked figure, this time despite their similarities, it wasn't someone pretending to be a revolutionary.

That was probably a revolutionary from a different kingdom, mere pretenders wouldn't be invited to such an event.

Suddenly America felt a light tug at his sleeve, turning his head, he came face to face with Russia. Amber eyes staring seriously with furrowed brows as well as a frown. "Come sit down."

"I'm waiting for an item, you can go ahead."

Though America found his behavior a bit odd, he brushed it off. A more frustrated voice spoke, "you're so annoying and unbearable, sit next to me."

America scoffed, "that's a bit contradictory isn't it? Do you enjoy my presence or not?"

Leaning in, America now noticed his guard's slightly flushed face as well as catching the light whiff of alcohol.

"Well whatever, in any case you have to sit with me."

A light chuckle escaped his throat, "you're drunk."

"No I'm not."

America raised two of his pale white fingers "How many fingers am I holding up?" The Russian squinted his eyes into a thin line to focus his hazy vision, "two."

Pleasantly surprised, America raised both his eyebrows "Oh? You really aren't drunk?"

"It takes more than a bottle of alcohol to get me drunk, though I am a bit tipsy..." he swayed slightly back and forth as he spoke, despite not being completely drunk, he didn't know why he was pestering the prince anyways.

It was wiser to pet a drunk person in the direction of their fur, just follow along to what they say. America, "okay okay, I'll sit with you, just until the item comes out."

Only then did he waltz over to the crimson couch, plopping himself down by the corner of the seat. Just in between him and the corner was just enough space for someone Russia's size to fit.

A look of discontent flashed on Russia's face, on one hand he wanted the prince to keep his irritating face out of his line of sight. But on the other hand, he wanted America to remain right by his side at all times.

It was like two sides of his brain waging war upon each other.

Before his brain could process anything, his body moved first and sat sandwiched between his beloved prince and one end of the couch.

A wave of restlessness crashed into him like a tide. He went ahead and propped his arm on the armrest, resting his chin on it. Even so, his eyes couldn't break away from America, actually, ever since he felt tipsy, he had only fixated on that one person.

After a few minutes, America noticed the pair of eyes watching him ever so blatantly. In return America turned to stare at him as well, "what are you doing?"

"Holding myself back."

A sly grin tugged at the prince's lips, "holding back from what?"

"From punching you in the face."