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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Don't worry, I'm sure they've got it down.
———
-*America's POV*-
Panic.
That was all America felt at the moment as he held Russia's hand.
He had no idea what had compelled him to suddenly grab Russia's hand, though he knew it would be a lot more embarrassing if he pulled his hand away. Instead, he decided to just play it off by noting how cold Russia's hand was.
Out of the corner of his eye, America saw a light blush covering the Russian's face. It took all of his self-restraint to avoid looking at him, since he knew it would be even harder to look away.
What was he supposed to do now with this newfound realization? He knew he couldn't tell anybody—especially not Russia—since he would surely be mocked for it. But he felt that keeping it to himself would be even more difficult.
Fuck, how had he fallen so hard? This was someone he was raised to hate, and yet here he was panicking about what Russia thought of him.
Then, a question popped into his head.
"Hey, what time do we leave here?" America asked, tilting his head slightly. Sure, this may have been done in part to be able to stare at the Russian without appearing suspicious, though he was also genuinely curious.
Russia looked slightly embarrassed. "Well, we're allowed to leave starting 12:00 am. Sorry I didn't tell you earlier, but I was enjoying being here with you and I completely forgot." He admitted, looking away to hide the small blush on his face.
Upon hearing this, America felt a small flame of hope. Russia enjoyed his company? Although he probably didn't mean anything by it, America couldn't help but feel overjoyed. "No, that's alright. I really enjoy spending time with you as well!" He smiled genuinely, subconsciously making eye contact with Russia.
As he stared into Russia's eyes, his smile slowly started to fade. He felt a tug of longing as he stared into Russia's endlessly blue eyes.
Apparently the eyes truly were the window to the soul, because reflected in the Russian's eyes was a look of affection, gratefulness, confusion, and something else that America couldn't quite identify. The sheer emotion in his eyes mesmerized America beyond words, and he was left unable to avert his eyes.
Russia was the first to look away a few moments later, his cheeks tinted a light shade of pink. He mumbled something that was completely unintelligible even in his own language.
Neither spoke for the next few minutes, though they continued to hold hands, being too embarrassed to bring attention to it by pulling their hand away.
Besides, they both secretly enjoyed it.
USSR, who was sitting alone at the table next to them, noticed the two holding hands and smirked. "I knew it from the very beginning. You two are gay as fuck for each other." He remarked, causing Russia's eyes to widen in embarrassment.
