Our love will last forever- Rusame

3 Engagement

"No." Russia said, almost in a trance of shock at his parents' suggestion.
"You haven't even met the girl yet." His mother, Third, tried to reason with him, but he was having none of it and just snapped back, "And I don't need to, I said no. I am not marrying anyone else!"

She sighted, sparing a worried glance to her husband, lightning a cigar with one of their workers there.
"Russia, please just think about it. There's no use in holding on to the past, you have to life in the present. Here and now, not a little fantasy of yours." She tried again, her voice soft, almost fearful for his future. But it wasn't his choice of partner that worried her the most at the moment.
Russia however didn't seem to get the message. This situation got him worked up and frustrated, angry at everyone around him for even daring to suggest he leave Ame in the dirt to him.
He had felt his soul around, he knew Ame was still there with him, they just wouldn't believe him...

"I am not living in a fantasy of mine. I am very much living in the present day and enjoying my life!" He defended himself, he defended their love and relationship, he-
Was cut off by his father before he could say another word.

"No you're not." The Soviet's cold, rough voice sounded through the room, immediately sending it into a deadly silence. "You're desperately clinging on to your little hopes and dreams that somehow that useless American's soul is still present here. He's dead and you need to accept that." Russia's blood ran cold at the harsh words. It somehow cut even deeper to know his parents thought he was going crazy, than them suggesting this whole thing. Expecting him to just be a good boy and go along with it.

"But I-" He tried, only to flinch and shut his mouth a second later.
"Nonsense." His father barked, voice loud and booming. Attention now solely on his youngest son, eyes narrowed to glowing golden slits in the half dark room. The yellowish orange light from the fireplace didn't help in making this situation, making his father in this situation, seem any less threatening.

"Shut your mouth you're meeting her tomorrow, whether you like it or not." He finished. But Russia still wouldn't give up, he couldn't give up this easily when his undying love for America was doubted like this, he had promised Ame... So with the hopes of finding understanding in his father, if he was really sincere and tried to explain everything to him, he tried again, his voice soft and barely above a whisper.
"But father I-"

That was it, it finally made his father snap.
"I told you to shut it! Did I not?!" He screamed. Everyone behind him discreetly took a step back so as to not accidentally bear the brunt of his anger.
"If I tell you to shut your mouth you do so without a snarky retort, Russia!" He continued, anger burning in his eyes, the normally warm honey golden colour turned into a threatening, glowing lava, ready to burn him down if needed. He had seen this happen before, his father getting this angry, or even violent. There were never any real efforts to shield him from it, not even at a young age. His mother had tried for a very long time to get him to live a normal life, but her efforts with him were in vain, just like they were with his many siblings.
She stopped trying when he turned fourteen and killed an armed intruder with a kitchen knife.

His father's next words ripped him out of his memories and back into this terrible reality. Slinging around him like chains and trapping him right where his father wanted it.

"You will do as your mother and I say and make a good impression on that girl," He demanded, slowly getting up and walking towards Russia. He stood before him now, taking a long drag of his cigar, leaning down and blowing the toxic fumes right into his face as he spoke again, "Or I will personally make sure that your little American fucktoy is dug up and floating back to his own country by tomorrow noon!" Russia had to stifle a cough, his eyes widening at the threat and stinging from the smoke. He snapped then shut as to not let the building tears escape and turned his head away from his father, pressing himself as far into the armchair's backrest as he could.