Blue With White Stars | RusAme ✔️

Blue With White Stars-- Fourteen

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America and Russia enter Moscow's two-story house and the American nation drags the sleeping England up the stairs gently. The Brit lightly snores as he cautiously carries him to his room.

The door to the room opens slowly and the American lightly places England on the soft mattress. He takes a deep breath and wipes the few sweat tears off of his forehead.

As the American quietly walks through the hallway, he hears a glass break in England's room; which sounded like a bottle or glass antique.

He peeks through the slight crack of the door to Brits room and sees a figurine on the ground with all of its pieces everywhere. America walks over to it and goes to his knees, picking up the remaining parts of the figurine to inspect it.

His hand stopped in its movement and his eyes capture the sight of a brown leather journal or diary.

He knows it disrespectful to read a diary of someone without permission, but the sight of the book was too tempting for the American.

Without any regrets, he grabs the diary and looks at the front cover, seeing England's name on it. America looks at England and back at the diary, surprised that he even had a journal.

America opens the diary to a random page and quickly runs through the cursive words and phrases. He turns the page and sees July 4th at the top of the page.

With all curiosity, America reads through it slowly, focusing on every word of each paragraph.

-July 4th-

London said that this would be the most sickening year I've ever been through, and for once, he was right. I regret it all, the war, the feeling of neglect, and the fact that I ever made relations with that Russian. It was all a gigantic mistake, and I should fix it. How? Well, the solution has blonde hair, sapphire blue eyes with white sparkles in them, and an absolutely beautiful voice.

It seems to me that he loves some one else. Who? I haven't figured it out, but I'm guessing it's that Cold War ex-belligerent that he used to get along with. I've never had that much of a grudge against him, but now I actually despise him more than ever.

The revolution doesn't sicken me anymore, only a few stomach aches and coughs is all I get. This benefits me, it shows America that I care about his freedom. If I can keep this new immunity, I'll be sure to earn America's affection some day.

My love is powerful, and it takes a lot to break that ability. It'll take more than just an argument, it'll take a war to end my love.
-

America looks up from the pages and turns his gaze at England, feeling his oblivious attitude disappear. His world feels upside down but his heart is beating in a fast pace.

He just had to learn this on his birthday, no warning or ahead of time notice.

With a sigh, America places the diary back where he found it under the bed and picks up the glass pieces off of the figurine. A sharp piece cuts the Americans finger and he tries his best to hold in his yelp.

Not wanting to risk anymore cuts, he leaves the glass where it is and exits the room, taking off his glove to see how bad it was. Though it hurts badly, the cut wasn't deep and no blood was steaming down his finger.

He shrugs off the pain and searches around the house to try and find Russia.

America passes through some rooms and peeks into the kitchen, not finding any sign of the Russian. He frowns and ponders for a moment, finally feeling the lightbulb in his head go off.

America goes to the back door and opens it, seeing Russia sitting on the ground and staring up at the sky.

He walks over to him and sits next to him, following along with staring up at the sky. Millions of stars were in the midnight sky and the full moon shined brightly.

Russia turns his gaze to America, "What do you need to talk about?"

The American jumps out of his focus and faces Russia. "Remember when I provoked you to tell me why you were in a deep depression and you said it was caused by me?" He asked, earning a slight nod from the Russian.

"When will you forgive me, I've been waiting for the day you'd accept my apology." America had thought about this for a while now, but he never came to a full conclusion to when Russia would finally forgive his mistake.

Russia smiled, "Your very impatient, I told you this before, I'll forgive you when it's the right time." The American frowns and rests his head on his hand, admiring Russia's resilience and words.

The two nations place their gaze on the star filled sky and a moment of pure silence passes by.

Russia slightly turns his focus to America and sees a flash of a sparkle in his blue eyes. He turns his head fully and sees the same white star in the vibrant blue of America's eyes.

Russia wanted to stop staring, but the sight amazed him more than the stars in the sky.

He lost his awareness of his surroundings and America looks back at him, snapping his fingers in front of Russia's face to try and get him to focus.

"Dude, are you frozen in time?" The American says, finally getting Russia to snap out of his gaze.

"Well that was easy. Anyways, I have to pay a few things to lend a hand to Central America, good night. Also, I was wondering if you'd like to join England and I on a little stroll through town tomorrow?" America requests, earning a nod from Russia.

America smiles and leaves Russia alone on the grass. Those eyes showed both beauty and sympathy, it was truly amazing to look at them.

Russia sighs and his eyes look up at the midnight sky.

He felt something; a goal, a dedication, and a spark. It's almost like the aura is slowly detaching itself and the torment is lifting, finally releasing its victim from its jail.

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