✿ Forget-Me-Nots - A Sovame Story ✿

Chapter 2 ~My Head!~ U.S P.O.V

He shot awake with a massive headache and- not in his own bed? He panicked immediately, trying to remember what happened last night. He then smelled the familiar scent of lavender in the air. That's what his father's house always smelled like.

"United States of America!" He jumped, spooked from the sudden yell of his full name. He'd look to the door to see his father walking in, with what looked like a cup of coffee.

"Your awake, finally! You almost scared me half to death! Oh boy, do I have some words to say to you!" He'd grimace, not wanting to feel the dread of his father's scoldings once again, especially with this damn headache!

"I told you two to not act like children once you go out that door. What do you do? Act like children! I honestly thought you knew better. Both of you! You are practically full-grown countries." He groaned, listening to his father's awful ranting. "Not exactly the right time now, dad." He said quietly, rubbing his head. His father would quiet down. "Do you need an ice pack?" The brit asked softly. He nodded in response.

His father went out and came back in with an ice pack. He'd let out a well-needed sigh of relief once he felt the icy cold feeling in his hand, that would soon be on his head.

"Y'know..." his father hesitated and set his cup of coffee down on the counter next to the bed. "All of us- all the other countries, we're getting quite scared about your little rivalry with The Soviet Union." His father would look away in disapproval.

"Jeez, dad. I know it's been going on for a while but- it's all him and his gigantic anger issues! He's the one who started the fight, he's the one trying to cause problems, he's been causing everything! Though he has been getting better though." He'd mutter the last part quietly. "Use your big boy voice, America." The brit teased. "Oh fuck off," he chuckled. "Got a cig?"

"You know I don't carry around those "things"." He'd roll his eyes and check for some in his pockets. "God damn it." Nothing. Just absolutely perfect. "If Soviet is so-called "getting better" then why don't you talk to him?" He'd look at his father with a face that looked like he just walked out of a haunted house. "Are you serious? He knocked me the fuck out!" His face felt hot. Weird. "Are you that scared of him now? I thought you were strong America." His father said sarcastically.

"Could be worth a shot, I guess." He'd mutter quietly. "I could patch you up and you could go now?" Brit offered. "Patch me up?" He'd tilt his head. "America, my son, your face is black and blue." His father frowned. "My beautiful, handsome face! This can't be!" He cried out, very, very dramatically.

His father laughed while he got out bandages. The brit began to cover the bruises up.

.+.+.+.

    A few hours later, he found himself on the dreadful doorstep of his rival. He had hesitated to knock. Before he could, the door shot open. He stepped back, startled by the sudden action. "What do you want?" The Russian scowled. "Came here for another round? Dull American. You know you'll lose." The other gave a mischievous smile. He already wanted to back out.

"Another round of what?" He blurted out in a flirty tone. The commie looked at him, confused. "Another round of me beating your ass. What else did you think?" Soviet gave him a weird look. "Nothing." He almost puked from the sight of his thoughts. Why did he even say that? So gross...

"Now shoo, before I make your face even uglier than it is now." The Russian was about to slam the door before he yelled out "Wait!" The Russian stopped. "What do you want." Soviet grumbled. "I," he'd hesitate. "I want to talk." He could feel his face get embarrassingly red. Oh god... what did he just do?

"To talk? That's a first." The Russian gave an evil grin, along with a chuckle. "About what." Soviet spat, suddenly changing expressions. "Britain told me that we've been scaring the other countries these last few years-" The Russian cut him off. "Come inside, It's cold." He was surprised to be welcomed in.

He'd follow the commie as he led him to the couch. He has a surprisingly nice home. The Russian immediately pulled out a box of cigarettes from his pockets and offered one to him. "How'd you know?" He said softly, hesitantly taking the cigarette. "After a while, you get to know your enemy." He blinked.

"You notice my facial expressions? Kind of sounds like your obsessed." He joked. "Back to what you were saying." The Russian said, aggressively, but not loud. "Countries are getting scared that we'll nuke each other blah, blah, blah. I'd rather talk about something else." He rolled his eyes. "Like what?" Soviet raised his eyebrow. "Like, um, you? Yeah. I wanna get to know you."

He finally pulled out a lighter and lit his cigarette. "Me? Alright..." The commie said suspiciously. "I'm not sure where to start." The Russian looked up at the ceiling. "Papa?" A concerned voice called out in Russian. A little girl's head poked out from the hallway. "Well first off, I have many children." Soviet motioned her to leave. "Sorry." The girl spoke again, in Russian.

He'd breathe in the cigarette, then would let out a large puff of smoke. "Never saw you as a family person." He smiled. "I wanna meet them!" Soviet glared at him. "No." The Russian said rudely. "Why not? Are you scared I'm gonna make them little capitalists? Your little girl looked like she had something to say." The Russian audibly sighed. "Belarus!" Soviet called out in his language.

The girl would come running back, stopping to awkwardly stare at him. "Papa who's that?" The girl said as she gave him a look full of anything but comfort. "Don't mind him. You had something to tell me?" The girl would look at him but then look back at her father. "Russia was fighting with Ukraine again. But they stopped for now." The girl said quietly. "Those brats..." Soviet muttered.

"Your kids causing trouble?" He smirked. " I have two that never get along. Very annoying at times." Soviet complained. "Belarus, you've been practicing your English, right?" The girl would nod excitedly. "Y-Yes father!" The girl would stutter, but other than that it was pretty fluent! "Oh! So your name is Belarus? What a pretty name for a pretty girl." He would lean forward.

"What hap-pen to your face?" Belarus asked, pointing to his bandages. "Well, your dad got a little angry and decided to-" He was cut off once again by Soviet. "Alright, that's enough. Belarus go make sure your brothers aren't fighting again." Belarus would nod at him and then run back into the hallway.

Soviet would glare back at him. He would stare at the Russian's lips, in some ways, admiring the feature. His face went red again without himself noticing, but it sure seemed like the commie noticed. "Your red again. Do you usually get red often? Are you sick or something?" He would finally notice his hot face. God, what's happening to me? "Maybe I am..." he said as he moved his gaze away from Soviet.

"I think it's about time for me to go." He would stick his cig in the ashtray on the coffee table. "Alright then. Nice talk." Soviet looked away. "Yeah. Nice talk." He would quickly rush out the door and into the cold. He'd shove his hands in his pockets while marching to his car, quickly heading home after that.

.+.+.+.

    He'd lay in bed after just taking a shower, left with his awful thoughts. His unnatural, displeasing, and. . . queer thoughts still somehow put butterflies in his stomach. Why was he thinking of this now? He isn't a homosexual! Though at times he did find some other guys only slightly attractive. Women were also attractive too! He couldn't be a queer. Definitely not.

He'd sigh and roll on his side, trying to ignore the loud voice in his head telling him that everyone would be disappointed in him if they could see his gruesome fantasies that run wild in his head.

Him? Of all people?

WOOO AFTER PROBABLY MORE THAN TWO MONTHS CHAPTER TWO! DEFINITELY DIDN'T WRITE THIS IN 3-4 HOURS!!! Im actually so proud that this chapter has almost 1500 words so medium sized! Like i said! Homophobia will be seen throughout the book, if it ever gets done that is. Please, again, feel free to correct any grammar mistakes!