Dressed For Rejection

2

Russia was overhearing the loud conversations of his siblings. That conversation was certainly a nasty one, including a bunch of swears, accusations, and spelling out death threats for one another. Although, this was not unusual.

"Won't you all shut the hell up for once?" He asked, grabbing a random bottle off the counter. He faintly heard an angry remark about being a disgusting pee stain. Russia brought the bottle up to his lips, and took a sip, completely ignoring whoever said that. He grimaced immediately, disgraced with the taste of white wine. "Who the hell drinks this shit?" He growled.

"Probably Estonia," Belarus tsked, walking over to Russia. She passed him, and opened the fridge. She appeared to be searching for something, so the Russian put the wine back into the refrigerator.

Russia spun around and walked up to his room, opening the door, and closing it. He never bothered to lock his door, mainly because no one was brave enough to knock on his door. He was like a brick wall to speak to.

The Russian was definitely bored, so he lingered around the door for no more than a few more seconds. Russia walked to his bed, and flopped onto it. It also felt like a brick wall, just like him.

A thought stirred up in his head, one that he couldn't push away very well. He remembered the dull looking Canadian, with his amber eyes, staring back at him. Why would he ever stare back? Russia knew that Canada was better than that, he was smart enough to know that he would slam him into a wall and rip his face off.

He did just want to scare the poor ol country, and remind him that he could crush him, but mainly since he was America's brother. That disgusting little blue, white, and red rat was really different from the strictly red and white one.

He could find himself getting lost in thought though, about his curiosity about Canada. He was pretty tall, like him, but he seemed way nicer. The Canadian seemed to be nothing like his annoying brother, with that constant American twang to it. He absolutely despised America and his voice.

Why did Canada approach him though? Again, he knew that Canada was smart enough to know that he could kill him, but still. Is he just that brave? Maybe he went to ask why he was staring at him so rudely. That was probably the answer.

The Russian tried his hardest to sleep that night, but failed miserably. All he could have his mind on was Canada and his seemingly strange actions. "Ugh." He rolled around, but then fell out of his bed, and landed on the floor. Followed with a loud thud, too. "Goddamnit!" Russia snaked back into his bed, and tried to fall asleep again.

++

Waking up to a very boring and dull morning, like always, with a beautiful single hour of sleep. He clawed out of bed, somehow getting himself onto the floor again. Russia stood up, and yawned. Almost instantly, he put on his cold face. Sometimes, he couldn't really help it.

The Russian changed into something wearable, then trailed out of his room. He was amazingly groggy and exhausted, because no form or hour of sleep would ever replenish his energy.

Russia walked down the steps, and instantly showed up to the living room. "I'm going out. Don't burn down the goddamn house, alright?" He heard a scoff, most likely from Romania, and he turned away. The Russian left his house, shutting the door behind him, and wandering to the car.

He opened the door to it, crawled into the car, closed the car door, and started it up. He put on his seat belt, and exited the driveway. Russia found himself at the local basically run down store, specifically in the alcohol section. He picked up all kinds of alcohol, mainly sticking to beer or vodka. Most of it was for his siblings, and he would pick out his own bottles.

After checking out, he went back to the car and mercilessly subjected the passengers seat to be where the beer was temporarily held. Russia quickly drove home, maybe running a pedestrian over, and exited the car. He grabbed all the beer, locked the car, and walked to the door.

The Russian kicked it open, and stalked to the kitchen. He put it all down, before being disturbed. "Lord, you're an alcoholic." Russia slowly turned, to see Latvia standing there, with Kazakhstan and Moldova talking to each other right behind him.

"Shut your mouth." He growled, and turned to the fridge. The Russian heard Latvia growl back, but stay silent otherwise. He started to put everything inside, but grabbed a bottle of vodka before he shut the fridge. Russia wasn't feeling creative with the alcohol he drank today.

The Russian spun around, deciding to take a walk. He exited the house again, leaving his siblings to go decide if they wanted to drink anything in the fridge or not. He went to the nearest park, and sat down on a bench. Nothing like enjoying the cold, while drinking vodka. Classic Russia.

He almost began to fall asleep, but got startled by someone sitting next to him. The Russian turned to see, unfortunately, a familiar and annoying face. The colors, just like his own flag, but separated by 50 stars and 13 stripes. "Oh, hell no." Russia spat, scooting away. The American had his arms crossed.

"What did you do to make my brother approach you?" America growled. "You're obsessive." He tsked, and the American growled again. "What di-" "I only stared at him, you dumb ass. Ask him, not me." He received a slap on the shoulder from America, but he just rolled his eyes.

After a few more moments of silence, the American scoffed and made an 'ugh' sound. He quickly left, leaving the Russian to sit on that bench alone. He liked that America had left. Although, did America really think that he did something bad to get Canada drawn to approach him? All he did was stare rather negatively, although that wasn't bad.

What an idiot.