Here's some art I made of Russia from the fight scene. He didn't say this obviously but I felt like putting it in there anyway. It took 45 minutes to make yeeyee.
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Anyway, enjoy whatever this trash is gonna be lol ----- 🇷🇺 Russia 🇷🇺 -----
I heard nothing but my own footsteps as I paced down the hall towards the front doors. The halls were deathly quiet due to the fact the bells had rung and sent everyone to class, but I knew I wouldn't be welcomed to the class after what went down between me and North Korea, especially since China would have gone around by now trash-talking me. My heart continued pounding in my chest as I pushed the door open and left. Nobody in the office stopped me, either because they knew what happened and wanted to avoid bringing me back where I could possibly hurt someone else, or because they hadn't even been paying attention and didn't see me leave. Either way, I didn't care. I just wanted the get the fuck out of the school.
As I walked down the sidewalk towards my house, still worked up, I replayed the scenario between America and I in my head.
Why the fuck did he hug me? I could have punched him or shoved him or something, and he just hugs me like a fucking idiot. Does he not know how I am when I'm mad? Surely someone must have told him before.
My thoughts continued rambling on with explicit words thrown in here and there, until I reached my door. I fumbled in my pocket for my keys, hands still shaking.
Why are my fucking hands shaking? This is so obnoxious!
I finally got my door unlocked and I came inside, closing the door and locking it again before going straight up to my room. I accidentally slammed the door and winced a little at the impact, but before I could think about it anymore, my mind just went back to North Korea. I could still feel the pressure on my knuckles from punching him, and vividly replayed his head snapping back in my mind.
Stupid fuck got what he deserved. Nobody talks shit about my father.
My thoughts drifted onto my father, slowly the rage cooled off until I was just numb again. The more I thought about him, the more solemn my mood got. Slowly but surely, I flashed back to the day he died. His fading presence was still fresh in my mind, as if he'd only died yesterday.
He slowly crumbled away before my eyes, just disappearing into thin air. How could he even smile at me then? Was he happy to go? And all that was left was just his coat, and his ushanka, just abandoned on the floor as if he hadn't been standing there only a minute ago... his ushanka...
I reached up took the ushanka from my head, turning it around in my hands and rubbing my fingers on the red star on the front. The hat was faded, and well worn down over the years. I stared at the fur and fabric, and I could still see my dad's smiling face before me with the hat on his head.
