3rd POV
Soviet awoke in one of the many spare rooms Britain just so happened to have. It was near pitch black out and the rain had only come to a small drip every now and again. About a thousand puddles were laid outside. Soviet strecthed and looked around for a clock, finding one hung on a wall that read four in the morning. Or half four to be specific. He changed his clothes for some spare he had in a bag ((he always had a bag shush)). The house's floorboards creaked horrendously with every step. It was even worse in the corridor.
Russian boy's POV:
I wander through the house as quietly as I can. At the end of the corridor a door is left slightly open, revealing part of the master bedroom. Britain is in there, I can hear him still asleep. I don't want to be here any longer and I certainly don't want to wake him up. I head downstairs and put on my ushanka and coat - both were still damp but not soaked. One last look up the stairs before I head off. I remember the British man stuttering at my presence. It's cute to see him act that way. A tinge of red blushes my cheeks and I ball my hands up at the thought. It's disgusting to think that.
I quietly take my leave from the house and make my way to where I actually wanted to be (a hotel I was planning on staying at). Today has been a shit start. And it's about to get worse.British boy's POV:
I woke up to the sun blinding me through the curtains. What time is it? Nine in the morning. Is it really this late? I've got places to be at by noon and now I've only got three hours spare. Great.
Wait... Is he still in here? Oh god. I rush up, quickly changing into my most formal attire and check the house thoroughly. Soviet is no where in sight. He must've already left. I need to leave soon as well. A small breakfast and cup of tea later and I'm out the door by half eleven.The meeting hall wasn't large. But it wasn't small by any means either. Just large enough for a handful of countries, like I or America or anyone part of NATO. Or for some others... Like North Korea, China... Soviet. And to think that man was sleeping my house no less than a few hours ago. My hands twitch at the thought and the entrance of the meeting hall. The thoughts pause as an American accent rings out behind me.
"Dad." America greets me, half coldly, half warmly.
He's still my son but since the divorce...? I think he's torn on how to behave. And the cold war too. He hasn't been full of energy lately these days. While I often found it annoying back then, I can't help but wish that energy would come back.
"Ame," I half smile at his presence, "how are you doing?"
"Fine."
He doesn't return the question and walks past me. I follow behind, entering the hall. I recognize one face immediately. France. I bite my tongue and take my seat, feeling a plethora of eyes stare at me. On the otherside of the hall I notice the opposition. North Korea, China and - of course - Soviet Union.
We both lock eyes for a while but he soon turned his attention to something else.I had my head burried in my arms for the entire meeting. It was nothing but the two sides just rambling and arguing at each other. It may come as a surprise, but I genuinely hate meetings and conferences. It's boring to just sit there and do nothing but listen. Especially these ones: when my own son is arguing with his enemies. Why do I have to dragged into it? I don't have much input to give nor do I have a chance to give any. This meeting better be short. I'd rather be at home relaxing and-
The communist is staring at me. I glance back. What does he want!?Russian guy's POV:
Is Britian talking to himself? Again? I cover my mouth with my hand, smiling slyly. That's funny to think about. Is he really that bored that he has to talk to himself for entertainment? Maybe he's going insane. I would if my son was America. Or maybe it was... What did he say again? Divorce was it? I wouldn't know what effect that has on someone. I've never married. I've never divorced. Not once would I ever bend down on one knee and ask 'will you marry me?' I could never open up so thoughtlessly to someone. And, having seen how Britain is acting now, I don't think my mind will ever sway on that thought.
To my delight, the meeting ends swiftly after. This was pointless. It was just America complaining about me - to my face might I add - and about our ideologies. I've heard this a thousand and one times. Can he not put it to rest already?
While leaving the building, accompanied by both North and China, I lock eyes with Britain one more time. He shakes at the sight of me and I smile. Not physically, but mentally I smile at it. It's funny to think that someone who used to hold so much power is afraid of someone like I.
Once we've (my group and America's group) separated further, I turn an eye to China and North, who have chatting to each other quietly. China is the first to notice. And he notices quickly, too. It's good to have allies with a keen eye.
"Hey..? You've been awfully quiet, Soviet," China is also quick to speak up, "anything going on?"
"Oh? Nothing, nothing," I wave my hand, "I've noticed something is up with Britain, though."
"There's something up with him?" China asks.
"He always looks that that!" North says rudely, not rude to I but definitely rude to Britain.
I dismiss what North has to say, "he's been talking to himself. He might be going insane."
"What does that mean exactly? Is he going to end up like that capitalist?"
They're both capitalists, so they might as well be the same already.
"Hopefully not," my tongue goes sour at the thought.
Another thought crosses my mind. The divorce. How are the others taking it? Come to think of it, everyone in that group was so off around Britain. Is he being cast aside from them? Is he more... Vulnerable? If push comes to shove, I may be able to take him under my wing. I'll have to figure that out later. Right now, I want to go home.---
((Im sorry if the POV changes so much :( though I'm planning to keep it minimal in the next chapter :)))
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Tea time with a commie - Countryhumans SovBrit
FanfictionLondon is a pretty rainy place. And Britian has just recently divorced his wife, France, and has little support from the west. During a rainy day, Britain notices Soviet out in the rain. He asks if he'd like to stay until the rain subsides. How far...