Two Can Keep A Secret

Chapter 6:The Recoup

"Alright. Yeah, I guess you're right."

'Then why do I still worry?'

-

America sighed in relief as soon as he closed the door to his apartment. Today has been quite the mess, emotionally and mentally.

After the fiasco in the empty meeting room, he and Russia had exchanged numbers and timid goodbyes. It was the fragile start of a new friendship, built on the promise to keep a secret.

He glances down at his phone screen as he hung his jacket over the chair, plopping down on a coach to relax. He winces as he sees over a hundred messages, likely from the states.

America massages his temple, thinking about all the trouble they caused in their respective meetings and states.

While stretching out on the couch, he gazes about the pictures on the walls.
Each state got their artwork, self portrait, or just anything they made in general framed. Most are yellowed from age, browning around the edges. He makes sure to check up on them often, as it's memories he's sure he'll forever maintain.

He pauses as his stomach grumbles, half-heartedly patting it then standing up and heading to the kitchen. More art lines the hallway, a collage of art styles from where every state chipped in to paint.

America sighs in remembrance, a wide smile splits his face. Humming a tune, he cooks himself a quick dinner, wanting to be fed before facing the fire.

-

America huffs out a tired breath, glad to be over and done.

'That took faaar too long. Seriously, how do they manage to set almost 3 buildings on fire and send another into lockdown within 4 hours?'

America shakes his head in bemusement, taking a glance again the clock. He startles, seeing it's almost twenty to ten.

'No wonder my eyes feel as if they're gonna fall out of my head!'

Standing up slowly, he sluggishly walks to his bedroom, the soft tap of his sock covered feet echoing in the silence. He doesn't bother to turn on the light, knowing his house inside out already.

America sits on his bed, exhaling in relief once his back hits the spongey mattress. Covering himself in the duvet (blanket), he removes his glasses and sets them on the nightstand.

As his head makes contact with the pillow, his eyes fluttering closed until blackness overcomes him.

-

Slowly, he awakes to a field. The strange thing about it, is that it's filled with sunflowers.

America glances around in confusion. This feels.. off, some how. What is he doing here? Why does his vision seem out of focus at points?

"Amerika?"

He hears a voice call out to him. He turns to face the person, stiffening in slight shock when he recognizes Russia.

He stands with a sunflower in his hand, one of the brightest smile he's ever seen on his face. His scarf blows gently in the wind, fluttering and stuttering behind him.
His violet eyes glow in the sunlight, his silvery hair glistens.

"Look at all these sunflowers! How beautiful, Da?"

Russia holds out the sunflower in his hands, offering it to America.

"Take the sunflower?"
'Accept my apology?'

He reaches out slowly, his fingers just grasping the edges of it.

Russia blinks, then softly smiles.

"Thank you"

And with that, he wakes.

-

The morning sun peeks through his window, shining directly onto Americas face.

He groans in annoyance, as he was hoping for just a bit more sleep.

'Seriously, I don't wanna keep waking up at the ass crack of dawn. I should really remember to close those stupid curtains at night.'

He stumbles out of bed, groggily dressing himself and neatening his hair. He slumps over the island in the kitchen as he lazily sips his tea.

'Tea may be better as fish food, but you have to admit, some of its pretty good.'

Reading his texts on his phone further, he almost spits his tea out in shock. There, plain as day, was a text from an unknown number. They stated their name, and America was unsurprised to see it was Russia.

'Hes already texting me?

He debates with himself whether to answer on the get-go or not, but ultimately decides to go with it. Better to actually try and be friends with Russia again than actively avoid the guy.

'Whelp, here goes nothing.'

-

heyoo, author here! I know some wording might be confusing, so let me explain it. A duvet is the blanket on top of your bed, it's the brand name for it basically. We just like using fancy words lol. Also, an island is just basically a table in the vicinity of the kitchen. Search it up, you'll find a picture explaing better than I can. Anyways, I write these chapters at half past ten if I'm lucky, so my eyes are burning rn. Hope you enjoyed this slightly longer chapter, and I'll see you in two days. Goeie môre, middag, aand of nag.