Pangea Academy's Number Two! (BOOK 2)

The Woes Worsen!

"I can't do this right now." America cursed, splashing water from his bathroom sink on his already tear-soaked face. He looked himself in the mirror before shutting his eyes and shaking his head, tears already pricking the edges of his eyes once again.

A sudden knock of the bathroom door flinched him out of his woes. He quickly wiped his face off with a towel and opened the door.

To be met (of course, he always shows up to places when he's not wanted) with Russia.

America's face immediately dimmed upon the realization of the Russian's presence, "Why are you here?"

"It is my room as well." Russia said, his eyebrows never moved from their furrowed position, he looked like a kicked puppy the entire time America was looking at him. "I would like to talk to you too, with no audience."

"That's not happening." America stated as he shoved through the burly Russian barricade on the bathroom door. "I'm going to sleep with someone else then, you can have the room."

"No no, please." Russia's eyes widened, he begged, "I don't mean to kick you out, I just wanted to talk."

"I have nothing more to say to you, Russia." Quickly grabbing his phone off the bedside table and the naproxen, America opened the door to exit.

"Wait!" Russia hurriedly called, "You're sick, you can have the master bedroom! I will sleep  in one of the guest rooms." He gave a sad look, as if requesting sympathy for him because he's just so chivalrous to give up the master bedroom.

"Oh? So now you finally care?" America rolled his eyes, Russia's mouth plummeted open in shock, "Whatever. Either leave or let me leave." and Russia quickly obeyed, hastily darting out of the door but not before turning back and saying,

"Amerika, I love you." 

In a way that America knew the Russian was trying to remind him.

But America had neither the heart or the willpower to reciprocate at this very moment, he let out a small nod and in response the Russian's hopeful face looked crestfallen. An expression the American can't bear to see on Russia's face any longer than necessary.

America slammed the door shut, leaning back on the dark wood like it was a lifeline. Tears actively pulled from his eyes as he slowly slid down until he was sitting.

Why UN?

Why did you talk for so long?

Why didn't you tell me?

Why won't you even try to make an excuse for yourself?

Why, why, why all his questions were why's.

But the one question Russia won't answer is why.

Why did he have to do this to America?

. . .

"Yeah... sorry, Russia." Mexico chuckled nervously as they locked the door from outside. "America doesn't want you going anywhere near him, and honestly, this is the only way we can think of that will prevent you from doing that."

The Russian didn't even try to fight it when they told him he was on "room" arrest for the time being. If he fought it, surely he'd look more guilty than he already does... even though he's not quite sure of what he's guilty of.

And if it's America saying he doesn't want him near his room? Hell, Russia would dig himself to the core of the Earth so he would be following America's request to perfection. The Russian just sat on the guest bed sadly, sighing a couple times as he remembered the look America gave him when he discovered the unknown number was UN.