^-My Stripped Loser-^{Rusame}

-{Unimportant yet Meaningful}-

-{Third Person}-

America walked onto the plane, carrying his suitcase and Hawaii's. Due to the importance of the people flying on it, it was a private plane. After putting the suitcase in the overhead bin, he counted the seats. 

"12, that should work," America said to himself. He knew Alaska and Hawaii would end up sitting together, and Japan and China would. He wasn't so sure about England and France, but then again. The other countries arrived within their own time and sat down. As America went to take a seat, he saw that he would have to sit beside Russia. This was not as long as a flight as it would feel.

Awkward, there wasn't another word in the English dictionary to describe this. America sat beside Russia. It wasn't like the two couldn't have a civil conversation if they tried. They didn't want to try—America, which was around 15 minutes away from googling an icebreaker. Russia glanced over at America, who was still wearing the weird shades. Russia's mind flashed back to what USSR had said about forgiving America. Did he want to do that? No. Yet his father was someone who had raised him to never genuinely hate without reason, and now that he thought about it, did he have a reason to hate America? No. Yet something about the country was off to Russia. Maybe he could figure out what exactly felt off during this vacation.

America was silently panicking. Russia had been staring at him for 15 minutes, which was already pretty awkward. America tried to think about why the Russian's gaze was on him. He had the aisle seat, so it could've been something like looking out the window. America's panic only rose when an audible sign escaped Russia's lips. Had he done something wrong? Why was he upset? Was he disappointed? Questions of self-doubt and confusion ran rampant through the country's head to the point he didn't notice a voice calling out to him.

"America!" Russia said loudly; some of the others in the plane turned to look toward the voice.

America looked confused before realizing it and stammering out a reply.

"Y-yes, Russia," America didn't mean to stutter. He didn't mean to. Yet he still got a slightly concerned look from Russia; the larger country looked down at him with pity.

America knew that look, and he hated it. Pity wasn't something he was looking for. It meant people thought he was weak. He shook his head lightly, trying to throw away the darker thoughts. America smiled slightly, now grateful for the larger countries' concern for him. China thought this would be a great time to say something more on the rude side.

"You got some dumb-looking sunglasses," China said. Before anything else could come out of his mouth, he froze.

Russia started at the country with a hatred unseen. China turned around and went back to his conversation with Japan. America saw the larger country's glare at China after his remark.  Something made his eyes go cold. America couldn't help but wonder. Did Russia care about him?...

-{AUTHORS NOTE}- Word: 507

Less words. More drama. No, China will not be a bad guy. I just wanted some drama. 

Karaoke Ideas?

Future ships?

Lemme know