It was the American Dream to be married to a lovely wife who stayed at home to cook and clean. To also have kids, one boy that would play catch with his father and a daughter who would follow in her mother's footsteps. To own a dog that kept the kids company and guarded the house. To own a large house with a white picket fence with good, friendly neighbors. To even own a nice car for the man to get to work and take out his family.
Alfred F. Jones could never really have that dream, even if he was the one to have started it in the first place. He was immortal, he could never die; Not from age nor from disease or wounds. As long as the people of America lived and thrived, so did he.
He hated it. Not being able to live out his life like a normal human. To fall in love and marry a girl so that they could start a family. He couldn't make friends as they would just wither away and die. He couldn't live the way he wanted to, instead he had to worry more about the world and what was happening. But in some small way, he was glad. Glad he got to protect his citizens and to be special in some way.
Although it was stressful, he managed. He managed through deception. Other countries thought he was stupid; Always laughing and being so light-hearted. But he was smart. He could learn any language in a matter of days, he won all wars he'd fought in, was the first to make nuclear weapons and was said to be a "World Super Power" as some said.
But Russia saw right through America and his persona. It was one the reasons why the two didn't like each other. That and the Cold War was upon them, that too. It was a race and standstill between the two superpowers that left the world in anxiety as it watched the two come at each other. It also seemed like it wouldn't end anytime soon, either.
It was at another world meeting when Alfred met her. She was tall for a woman, with ivory skin and beautiful long (h/c) hair that seemed to flow behind her back. She wore a black fur coat that stopped just above her knees, and polished black boots that hid whatever the coat didn't. A matching black fur hat went with her coat and a bright bold red scarf completed her look.
Alfred was smitten just by looking at her. She gave off an aura of warmth and peace. After gaining some courage, he went to speak with her. Making sure he looked good, he tapped her shoulder, making her spin around to meet his gaze.
"You wear a lot of black. Is it your favorite color?" Alfred smiled down at the woman (who although tall, was not tall enough to be of equal height). She turned to him with a smile, which made his heart flutter. "No, it's to keep me from blending in with the snow." He took a breath, her beauty caught him more off guard now that he was closer to her.
Her accent was heavy but Alfred was too focused on her shimmering eyes to notice or care. He was about to continue when the large Russian man, Ivan, entered the meeting room. The rooms chatter quieted down when he walked in, all smiles.
Even though he looked quite cheerful, people still people trembled when he walked past. He stopped behind the woman, which made Alfred instinctively take a few steps back. Ivan places his large hands onto her shoulders, making many pity her, but it confuses them all the same as she shows no fear to the towering Russian.
"This," Ivan starts, "Is (Y/n) Vasiliev. She's the representative of my capital, Moscow." Ivan's smile seemed even more menacing to the American as he felt his heart drop and shatter. The most beautiful woman that he had ever seen in all the years that he had lived, a damn Commie?!
Alfred's hands clenched into fists as his once bright smile turned into a hard glare. Both Ivan and (Y/n) continue to smile at Alfred and the entire room of countries fearlessly.
