My once comforting silence had turned sour as my room's door hinges quieted from being previously slammed. The phone in my hands felt like jelly, making it hard to keep a firm grasp, let alone turn it on.
Furious blinking couldn't stop the colors on my phone screen from blurring together, and the metallic taste of blood pooled in my mouth as I constantly wiped the screen.
It seemed like years before I managed to pull up Armenia's contact number, quickly dialing and shakily raising the phone to my ear.
It rang for several long seconds, each one burning away at my patience like matchsticks until the other line clicked and faint voices filled the small receiver.
"Hey! What's up?"
I tried to sound okay, but my voice came out as a barely audible croak.
"C... c-can I come over...?"
The familiar softness and warmth in his voice washed over me, calming me instantly as I listened to his worried tone.
"Are you safe, Alaska? Is anyone hurt?"
"Physically? N-no..."
The faint sound of his soft sigh on the other line felt like a rebuke, even though I knew Armenia would never hate us.
"But mentally? Are you alright? Do you need me to pick you up?"
I tried to breathe so I could focus on talking rather than crying.
"Y-yeah, please come..."
It was getting harder to speak, my throat sore and my breathing uneven from the crying and the screaming in my mind. Heaving in a breath, I managed to push out a coherent sentence... I hoped.
"I just need someone to talk to..."
"Okay, I'll be there in five."
The call ended.
A weak smile strained onto my face at the news. Mania always understood me, from listening to me rant for hours to simply offering to stay beside me or hold my hand.
Nobody in my family would do that. Apparently, as the oldest, I should be able to do more grown-up things without a guiding hand. They believed in the 'throw him in the water and he'll swim' mentality, but only for me.
Mania was my guiding hand. He always talked and was the best father figure I could ask for-aside from папа.
Nobody can replace папа... not Armenia, not дедушка, not even father. Yet he still abandoned me. .
That thought alone made me choke a sob as I slowly lowered myself to the ground, burying my face in my arms to muffle the cries that wanted to escape from my throat.
A moment later, a firm hand thumped against my room door.
"Alaska?"
"Yeah?"
I managed to mutter after a couple of minutes.
"Can I come in?"
He sounded concerned, and it made me feel guilty for making Mania worry. I tried to sit up to look at least a little okay.
"Yeah, sure..."
The door creaked open slightly before closing. My eyes felt too heavy to look up as the bed sank a little beside me.
"Is it about your dad's disappearance?"
He was straight to the point, and I was grateful for it-I couldn't bring myself to explain what's wrong on my own.
