Aftermath Plans || Amerus / Rusame

𝓒𝓱𝓪𝓹𝓽𝓮𝓻 𝓕𝓲𝓿𝓮

His hands start trembling as he feels a heart-stopping sting on his palm. The wooden ground under his bare knees feels like it wants to crush him. His knees hurt.

As he opens his hand to check he hears the pitter patters of the glass falling. Blood splatters to a piece as he raises his hand to check it.

"Russia?" He faintly hears his dad, which makes his heart worse. He gulps the pain and continues picking the pieces up. The footsteps coming from the hall make him gasp with fear and quicken his moves. "Did something happen?"

"N-No papa!" He gets up, pressing his lips together when the littlest parts slide down from his hands. He leans down again to pick them up, but this time big parts fall.

"What was that sound then?" Soviet's voice feels even closer. His hands tremble even more.

"I fell!"

"And you shattered?"

"Yes!" Russia doesn't know what that word means. "I shaffered!"

His fear subsides a little as he hears his father's chuckle. It quickly comes back when he sees the door opening.

He freezes on his spot, wase parts on his hands, eyes focused on his father's.

Soviet smile drops to a poker face as he quickly scans the room for what had happened. It doesn't even take a second for him.

"Papa." Russia sniffs. "I know you liked the vase. But it fell on its own."
Soviet stares a bit longer at the shattered vase. Longer than he would normally do for a normal decoration.

"Papa." Russia tries again, sniffing more. "I know it came from real babushka. But really it wasn't that good! It looked poo-poo! So you don't have to-"

"Did you play ball inside again?" Soviet turn his looks to Russia.

"No papa."

"Oh." Soviet crouches down next to him. He is too tall that even when he crouches Russia has to raise his head. "So it just fell on its own?"

"Yes papa. I told you. Bad vase."

Soviet leans to get the ball in his hand. Russia looks away.

"What is this?"

Russia shrugs. "I don't know what that is."

Soviet smiles a bit as he pushes Russia's hair to the back. He puts the ball back. His eye turns to his son again. "Did you hurt yourself?"

Russia lets out a little hum and opens his palms. His eyes notice Soviet's pout before he himself does.

"Let us get up." Soviet pulls him up from his armpits. Russia hisses with the sudden pain. His father stops. "What is it?"

When Soviet looks even lower he notices the glass shards on his knees. Russia gasps when he sees the blood.

"Hey, hey it's okay." Soviet caresses his hair, making Russia look away. His father always helps. "Come here. I will-"

He doesn't even need to hear the next part. He immediately raises his arms. Soviet slowly picks him up. He holds him with one arm, making Russia remember how strong his father is. He can't even raise a vase! And he is definitely heavier than a vase.