America the Mysterious (United States of America #1.5)

His American Wife (Russia) (Part 4)

It was many months later after their wedding, and now America was wondering if her worries had been for naught.

So far, nothing bad had happened between her and her new husband, but America knew without a doubt that she would never come to love this man, not as much as she did them. This was an arranged marriage after all, and love was mostly never a part of the deal. Russia probably knew this too, despite never actually saying anything. Not only that, but after their wedding night, they didn't sleep in the same bed after that.

Of course, they still shared the same room, but never the same bed. That was fine with America; She didn't want to feel the presence of someone else in her bed, someone she didn't love or trust, and clearly Russia felt the same.

Still, America couldn't deny that there had been something comforting in the way Russia would sleep in the bed across from her, his upper body exposed for all to see and his silver hair tousled in his sleep. She will admit that that was attractive, but it never made her blush.

No, that was for them, and them alone. They earned it, and Russia didn't. He may be her husband now, but she could never love him.

America suddenly felt like the worst piece of trash in all the world for feeling like this, but she knew she wouldn't be able to stop.

After all, how can you love someone who could easily turn from friend, to enemy, and back again in such a short time? America wasn't one of those people.

And she'd be damned before she did.

Still, she hadn't agreed to marry one of her worst enemies for nothing, and, for the sake of her children and country, she was damn well going to make this work, even if it was just by a little bit.

She felt that that was all she could do.

~~~

It was quiet at the mansion now that night had fallen and the states have gone to bed. It was spring break here in the states, for college students specifically, and America had done her best to relax after a long day at work. It was the week before that when she and Russia announced to the other nations to results of their marriage.

So far, things were going well, as Russia's economy was growing stronger and better than before, and their armies followed suit. Just as Russia promised, both militaries were learning from each other, giving each other clues on how to improve in certain areas and how they can make each other stronger. America knew she wasn't going to have to worry about national protection if it ever came to it.

But there were some milestones. For one, citizens from both countries were concerned on the other with this alliance (of course they didn't know about the marriage itself), and were weary of it. For another, it wasn't a secret that both American and Russian citizens had different views on each other, views that were often condescending and ones that only increased after the alliance. Thankfully, both were put under control quickly and easily, both it was still going to be awhile before both countries could grow easy around each other.

And America could see that it was going to be awhile indeed.

Russia happened to be in the room with America. "You're unhappy," was all he said. His smile was gone from his face, his scarf and coat were discarded in the closet, and he was now wearing nothing more but his pajama pants, showing his muscular upper torso.

As well as his rows upon rows of scars.

The scars were what drew America's attention most; they either ranged from previous stab wounds, burns, bullet wounds, and others. The burn scars forced her to remember Daniel's burn scars, which were more horrific to look at, and it was always a struggle on her part to not burst out crying every time she saw them, much with how Bernard would go ballistic whenever he saw them.