One thing has always been clear about Russia and America: They hated each other. It was no surprise; after all, their parents had despised each other, so naturally, their children would hate each other as well.
Russia and America had just gotten ou...
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Holy shit wtf is going on on roblox
Also, if anyone has any song recommendations, please comment it here. There's a reason why I'm asking, and you'll see why in a few chapters.
School just started how tf do I already have 3 missing assignments and 2 upcoming quizzes (neither of which I studied for)
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-*Russia's POV*-
The initial emotions Russia felt were comfort and happiness. He felt something warm laying on his torso that he automatically assumed was his cat. He hand went down instinctively to pet it a few times, before realizing something was wrong.
Weren't they at Germany' house? How did his cat get here?
His eyes snapped open, and he looked down to see what was on his torso. He froze.
It wasn't his cat laying on his chest.
It was America.
He promptly muttered a variety of curse words in Russian, and began to panic. He had no clue how he got into this situation, much less how to get out of it. Russia didn't know how him and America had ended up sleeping in the same bed, but he had a horrid suspicion that he didn't want to know.
And to make matters worse, because of how much Russia was shifting around, America was now beginning to stir. Russia's anxiety levels began to spike even further.
Russia tried to slide out from under America, only to have the American pull him back.
"No." America muttered stubbornly, still sounding half asleep, "Stay."
Russia flushed red, but complied. He didn't know exactly why he stayed, but a part of him felt happy he did.
Sadly, that peacefulness was soon interrupted as a horrible thought flashed in his mind.
Russia didn't remember much from the previous night, but there was small fragments. Unfortunately, one of said fragments was the memory of a nightmare.
Meaning that one of the main things he had been trying to avoid had just happened in front of his rival.
He scolded himself for his carelessness. If he continued at this rate, soon enough he would be telling America about his childhood.
Hold on...
No. Russia shook his head. He refused to believe it.
Russia scoffed internally just at the thought of it. He would never openly tell that to anyone, much less America. So then why did he feel so conflicted?
He racked his brain to try to remember something about the night before. Anything.
And yet, all he had remembered was taking care of a drunk America, then giving up and getting drunk himself. Then, another fragment came to him.
