Be Well, My Darling (Fruk)

13

"It's terrible..."

"What's happened to your face?"

Francis stood up quickly, rushing to inspect the face of Mr. Russia. I squinted my eyes, seeing him place his hands on Russia's cheeks.

Seriously? Was all the touching necessary?

"I'm not sure what happened, it happened so fast, but there was this weird smoke, and then my skin felt like it was on fire. Many of my soldiers have similar burns, luckily, there haven't been many casualties," he spoke frantically.

A strange gas? That can't be right.

"Wait, what did it look like?" I asked. He and Francis stopped looking at each other, turning to me. "Ah, I can't explain it...but it wasn't like anything I have seen before," Mr. Russia spoke. No, this couldn't have been what I was thinking of. Gas that burnt the skin and killed a few. "The soldiers that did die was it because their lungs gave out, or was it because of the burns?" I asked.

"Arth—England? Does that really matter?"

"Yes! Now, what is the answer?"

Russia looked at me confused and shrugged his shoulder. "The burns, why?" he asked. The burns? That can't be, right? Ugh, maybe I'm overthinking this. "Oh...okay..." I spoke.

"Still, I'm worried about this war; I need the two of you to promise me something. The two of you must agree to this condition for me to continue sending troops for the western front," he started. His troops helped in various ways; it would be a blow to us if he pulled them out from the western front. "What do you want?" Francis asked.

"I need the two of you to promise me Constantinople," he spoke. I froze at what he had asked us. "I would like it very much, so think carefully about your answer," he smiled. The burns on his face as he smiled made him more eery and scary. Even though it made me a bit nervous, I couldn't show him how unsettling it was and how it made me feel.

"Deal!" Francis spoke suddenly. My eyes widened, and my headshot toward him. Francis was in this war because of him, and now he is cornering us by not helping on our side. "What? Seriously?" I asked.

"Of course! Mr. England agrees, too, right?" Francis asked, looking at me. No way, he threw me under the bus right now. I stayed silent as they both stared at me. I knew I didn't have much of an option. I had no other choice but to agree. "Fine, after this war is over...if we win...I promise to ensure that you take control of Constantinople," I spoke. Russia nodded at me, pleased, wiping his face a bit. His burns looked painful.

"I'm glad the two of you made the right decision; I'm sure you both know how troublesome that would be if we had to be enemies after this war," he added. This sick bastard was as crazy as his own government.

Then again, Do I have room to talk?

"Any other comments?" He asked. He looked at the two of us, and we stayed quiet. "No? Good? Now...if you excuse me, I have work to do. I look forward to our future meetings," he spoke. He started to walk toward the door, and I couldn't help but frown once he turned his back toward us.

"Also, if you want to have private time together, do it in PRIVATE, not when a meeting is about to start," he spoke. My eyes widened, and I felt confused. What did he mean by that?

Russia stopped to look at us, and we were both silent. "He was sitting in front of you, and his hair is different; I'm not an idiot," he added.

Oh...

Was it that obvious?

"It's not like that—"

"I don't care."