Too Cold To Be With You // Countryhumans RusAme

Chapter 1 - Confused Feelings

"Hey Russia," America said with the click of his pen. It shouldn't have been obvious, but the worry was evidently strong in the American's eyes. "Your evil alter ego is really getting out of control, you know?"

Russia raised a brow and crossed his arms. "My what?"

"Your commie pal or whatever." The American shuddered, as an all-too-familiar chill went up his spine and the temperature in the room significantly dropped in less than a minute.

"Are you talking about Soviet Union?"

"That's what I said, right?"

Russia cupped his fists. "Being communist doesn't make him evil!" A tiny smile spread across America's face. He knew it irritated the Russian when he brought up the past, but that's just what made him want to tease him even more. His reaction was too cute.

"Whatever you say. Just get 'em off my back, please. I have far more important things to do..." The American's eyes wandered aimlessly around the room.

"Like what, exactly?"

As if right on cue, the door to America's office burst open and a representative walked in with a phone in his hands. "America, sir! Trump is administrating the wall plan!" America smiled again, lifting up his sunglasses to reveal his sky blue eyes.

"See? Important things to do, Russia." The Russian rolled his eyes. "Later, dude." America waved goodbye and walked side by side, next to his representative.

Russia sighed and felt as the air grew warmer as America left. It annoyed him how much better it was without him—how much it hurt when America was beside him. It was almost as if like the Cold War had never ended.

...

"What exactly makes him think I can do anything about Soviet anyways? That bastard does whatever he wants, whenever he wants to," Russia sighed and took a sip of whatever the bartender gave him. He couldn't exactly remember what it was, but it was strong enough to burn his mouth.

"Что же мне делать?" (What am I supposed to do?)

He looked over to see a small table on his right with a group of countries, arguing amongst themselves. He noted how much smaller they were in comparison to him and assumed they were European countries.

"I'm not going to sign the pact you bloody git! How am I supposed to grow my economy with your currency?" The Englishman raised his voice as the few others sitting beside him lowered their heads.

France looked as if he was going to fall asleep amidst the group. "Why is this even a conversation anymore? We get it, you're special, Monsieur."

"You complain to be part of a group of countries under one name, but isn't that what the UK stand for?" Poland asked. The glare he got from England made him widen his eyes in worry. "I meant nothing by that, sorry."

The fight went on endlessly. Russia knew he had no business in their talk and blocked out their needless conversation sooner rather than later. It wasn't until someone approached him when he averted his attention back to the yelling.

"Hey, Russia." It was Germany. He hasn't talked to him in a while, so it was nice to finally get a chance to catch up with him.

"Germany, how've you been?"

"Pretty well, generally speaking. Can't say the same for you though. You're looking rough." Russia's eyes dulled, but a small smile made it's way to his face. He tried to keep it up for as long as possible, but the more he did, the more he thought about how easy it would've been for America to do it.