The Immigrants. 2p! Russia x Fem America.

Chapter two [The love starts].

It did not take much for Ion to want to go back. She was truthful in the sense that the loaf of bread that his family ate wasn't sugar infested. He fairly enjoyed the bread she had made, because it had a hint of sweetness, but no sugar. He didn't have an allergic reaction to it, his mother even checked him. He thought it was odd, but nonetheless, Ion enjoyed the bread.

At work the next day, he thought about her. And still wondering why the bread was sweet; but no allergic reaction. He didn't mind that much, he just enjoyed the sensation of the sweetness on his tongue. As he mended and worked the seething hot steel beneath him, all he could think was about the lovely Irish girl. He almost missed the Whistle for lunch. When he did, Ion quickly ran to the showers and made himself more presentable for lunch before running off and catching a Trolley to get to the little bakery.

The Russian man made it there and walked in, spotting a familiar face. Amelia looked up from working on the dough and smiled brightly. He grunted in small pleasure and nodded his head, acknowledging her presence. Walking over, he took out a small amount of American cash and put it on the counter in-front of her. She looked at the cash and blinked, half confused.

"Do you want to buy this?" She said, her accent light, but delicate.

Ion nodded his head.

"Oh, alright then lad, how many loafs?"

He looked a bit confused, his English wasn't good, and he wasn't very good at understanding it either. He made a confused grunt and tilted his head slightly.

"Oh, you... You don't speak much English, do you?" She muttered.

Ion shook his head and sighed lightly. He was shamed by this, not only could he not talk to a single girl, he couldn't speak enough English.

Amelia patted his shoulder. "It's alright, lad! I understand you clear enough!"

Ion shook his head in anger and bought the loaf, and left in a hurry. The girl felt heartbroken, almost as if she caused him to leave angrily. As Ion worked, he started speaking to the Russian beside him who knew more English than he. He demanded that this man teach him. And the man did.

Days upon days passed, and Ion visited the Bakery more and more, becoming a regular. But in all honestly, he only made the trips to the bakery so he could see the Irish gal's face. And over time, he did learn better English. Most days he'd attempt to ask Amelia out but it would not go well and he'd run away in shame and pretend it never happened. He was a big doofus for her, and could never figure out the right words to say. Although, Ion wasn't the only one who got flustered when they talked.

Amelia was almost exactly the same. She got jittery and rambled on when she talked. When he looked at her, looking at her beauty, she always noticed. And blushed, twirling her curls between her fingers. To Ion, it was a sign of submission, giving into him. To her, it was a sign of, am I that attractive?

"You. Me, go food consume." He plainly said to her.

"Wh-what?" She looked confused.

"Food consume? Date?" Ion replied.

"Y-you an' me? O-on a date?" Her voice waivered.

Ion nodded his head, his deep brown hair in a loose ponytail. Amelia felt her cheeks heating up as she nodded furiously. Inside of Ion's condemned heart, it began to feel heat and happiness. Something almost nothing in the world could provide. It was almost too much for him, but he bared through it just to look at her smiling face.

"I'd love to!" She exclaimed.