It's Not Over (RusAme Story)

Chapter 35- Christmas Party

CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

~Russia's POV~

"You're going."

Ukraine stood in front of me, her icy blue eyes focused on me in determination.

"Nyet, I'm not," I growled, wishing that she would just leave me alone. "I hate parties, and Father grounded me."

I had no intention of going to Japan's stupid Christmas party, especially after everything had happened recently. Going to a party was the last thing I ever wanted to do, and that would remain unchanged.

"You didn't seem to mind breaking the rules when America was in the picture," Ukraine persisted.

The mention of America irked me, and I flipped over on my side, facing away from her to try and end the conversation. "Get out of my room."

"No," she crossed her arms. "Everyone's going to Japan's Christmas party, and so are you."

I growled in frustration underneath my breath. "I already told you, I'm not going to a stupid Christmas party."

"Yes you are," Ukraine demanded and I fought the urge to lose my temper.

I sat up on the bed, annoyance flickering through me. "Don't you get it? After what happened yesterday, Father will be watching my every move."

"You're using that as an excuse. You know that you wouldn't have come even if he hadn't grounded you," Ukraine whined, but I felt no pity for her.

I wasn't going to Japan's party, both because she annoyed me and I hated parties. Besides, Father really had grounded me, and I didn't want to go anywhere right now.

I sat up on my bed. "Ask me about the party again and I'll give you a reason to complain," I growled, rivaling her fierce gaze with a glare of my own. I balled my fist and shot her a glance that clearly indicated my hostile intentions.

Ukraine raised an eyebrow in defiance, choosing to completely ignore my warning. "America's going."

Her name hit me like a blow in the chest and I swelled up in anger, shooting to my feet. "GET OUT," I roared, snatching a book off my desk table and hurling it at her head.

Ukraine ducked before darting out of my room.

I breathed heavily, trying to catch my breath. Tearing a hand through my hair, I flung my ushanka across the room in an act of rage and sank into the bed.

America.

I never should have gotten close to her. She had been untouchable from the beginning, and I should have known that there was a reason things were like that. We weren't meant to mix, especially not when the whole world seemed to be trying to pull us apart. Our resistance to the tidal wave pushing us apart had always been futile.

The memories of yesterday flashed through my head but I steeled my emotions. I couldn't let them get the best of me, no matter how much it hurt. I had liked America, but after I had rejected her kiss yesterday, I probably had ruined all my chances of her liking me back.

If she had ever liked me back at all.

I furrowed my brows and rearranged myself so that I was laying on my stomach, effectively suffocating my pillow between my biceps. I tightened the muscles in my arms, the feeling of the pillow nestled between my arms oddly comforting. I wanted to make something else feel all this pent-up frustration.

Sighing, I buried my face into my sheets and clenched my fists around the silken material.

I hated feeling these emotions. They settled deep in my stomach so that I couldn't focus on anything else. I hated this. Before America, everything had been fine, now I couldn't get her out of my head, but it was for a reason other than hate. I needed to hate her, but I couldn't.