When it Snows in Russia...

“Oh Lat-via!”

            Latvia, who was hurrying along the chic corridor flinched; that calm, dangerous voice could only belong to one person. How did he know Latvia was there anyway? Latvia was trying his very best to be as quiet as possible.

            He popped his head around the door, trying to look cheerful, “Yes, master Russia?” his voice was trembling a little, but not so much that the occupied Russia would notice.

            Russia turned around on his seat. His body did not move at all, so it looked a little creepy. He was sat on a huge black leather swivel seat. Well, it would look huge if anyone else but Russia was sitting on it. However, Russia was just big boned. Not fat. His pale purple eyes opened slowly and Latvia tried to suppress the shiver that passed through him.

            “Yes, will you please get me some more biscuits?” said Russia smoothly. Latvia tried not to grin. The big boss had been hooked on biscuits lately; they were just plain biscuits, no chocolate on them or anything. Latvia nodded, went over to the desk, and retrieved master Russia’s rough tea tray. On it were two empty packets that had previously contained biscuits.

            “The same again, sir?”

            “Please.”

            Latvia wandered over to the door again, “You know,” he said absently, not really thinking, “you’ve been eating a lot of biscuits lately. You might be pregnant, sir!” Obviously, this was impossible, but Russia’s body still froze as he jerked perfectly upright in his seat. He glared at Latvia, his thin-lipped smile unwavering.

            Latvia freaked and almost dropped the tray, “I- I- I’m sorry, sir! Y- you’re not pregnant! It wa- was a jo- joke!”

            “Oh, is that all?” Russia stood up. Even though he was about four feet away, he still towered over little Latvia, who began trembling most terribly, shaking the empty biscuit wrappers on the tray.

            “Yes, yes! That’s all it is, just a harmless l- little joke, s- sir… just a harmless joke! Mm…” he made his escape quickly, before Russia could walk over. “I’ll just get those biscuits for you, sir!” he yelled back, and darted immediately over to the kitchen. Russia’s house was large, and Latvia still managed to get himself lost in it. More often than not, when Latvia was meaning to visit the bathroom, he would walk into a cupboard. Or he would just walk into a wall. It all depended on how awake Latvia was.

            Latvia was concentrating now. He went into the right door, guided by the sound of a kettle. In the kitchen, he found Estonia, smothered in a big white apron and hat. He glanced around quickly, saw that it was Latvia, and relaxed slightly. He continued chopping up the courgette.

            “Latvia, did Russia shout at you again, you’re sweating like a horse,” Estonia mumbled, throwing the vegetable slices into a frying pan. He was talking fast, so Latvia only just caught the words.

            “Um, not as such,” said Latvia, setting down the tray and retrieving the little stool he had to stand on to be able to reach the very high cupboards. He was only young, but he was quite willing to work. “Are there any more cookies?”

            “What? He wants more?”

            Latvia nodded, and move the stool over. He opened the next cupboard and rummaged around in it. Nothing but tins and more bottles of vodka. What a surprise.

            “Yeah… where are they?”

            Estonia picked up an aubergine, “He can’t have any.”