I, America, live in a perfect world. No one disturbs me; they fear me. As a wise man had said, "isolation is the key to success." I believe it whole heartedly. Society is cruel. And to counter it, I must be independent, secretive, and alert. Welcome...
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Young China POV
I begin putting my clothes into the black drawer next to my bed. I got to say, India was right about Russia being attractive. He has striking icy blue eyes and luscious dirty blonde hair. He is the ideal height for many girls and is pretty fit. Obviously because of fighting, but you get the point. I wouldn't say he's better than me though. He's lacking in the personality department by a ton according to all the students at this school.
But in reality, Russia's a really cool and chill guy. I don't see why everyone hates him so much. He's very understandable and readable. Maybe it's his cold demeanor that throws everyone off. The only thing I've noticed about Russia that concerns me is how unpredictable he is. It comes with its perks, but it's harmful to me. I need him to trust me. So far so good. We didn't fight again after the deal. We actually talked quite peacefully.
Poland and her friends are such liars.
Russia puts his phone down, sitting on his bed on the other side of his dark, gloomy room, "you're from Sapphire Falls middle school."
I nod, jumping onto my bed after finishing putting my clothes away. The window next to my bed is the only window in this room. He covered the other ones above his desk with black sheets. "Looks like you found my countrygram account. What do you think of it?"
"No. I just found you on the web." He explains, looking at me. "So, why are you here? You seemed to have a pretty good life back there."
I stayed silent, not wanting to mention how I got expelled. It would seem that I'm careless and won't be a good partner to work with. I will not show him or tell him about my failures. It's not the right time yet. I shrug, "wanted to see my luck of starting over. I mean, countries are the real deal. I already have a loyal following back at my old school."
He hums in acknowledgement, "I guess so." I look out the window and down at the lake that glitters in the sunlight. I don't understand him. The view here is beautiful and he doesn't take this bed for himself. He opted for the one in the corner where there is barely any sunlight. What is he? A vampire?
"Why is everything about you black?" I inquire.
He scoffs, leaning against the wall, "I could ask the same of you. Why are all of your clothes red?"
I roll my eyes, "at least I have other colors such as gold and green." I point at my watch—the watch America gave me on my birthday—then at my green suitcase.
He opens his drawer and pulls out a necklace. "I have gray accessories," he counters.
"That's another shade of black," I chuckle. He crosses his arms, annoyed. I pout, "are you mad that I'm right?"
He glares at me, "I am never wrong."
I shrug, "keep living your lie." I turn my attention back at the lake in the distance. I can stare outside all day. It's breathtaking. "You're not as bad as they say," I hum softly.
