Secrets {A Rusame story}

Chapter 3

Russia's P.O.V

I'm really worried about America. He had a bruise on his arm and chest. He says it was an accident, but I can tell he's lying. If it wasn't so obvious he was lying I wouldn't be so worried about it. I mean, why would he have to lie about something like bruises. Well, I can think of a couple of options, but I don't think there probable. 

I mean, he could've been attacked, but that's unlikely. It could have been that he and Canada got in a fight, but that doesn't sound right either. Then there's the last option, the one that I fear isn't just a stupid thought. What if..U.K. did that to him. The problem is I feel like this one isn't wrong. I have a feeling that's telling me I'm not wrong about that option. 

I decided that when I get home I'll tell dad. Maybe he can talk with France about it or something, but then again, what if she doesn't know, and then she tells U.K. and then he hits America, or- UGH! Why am I worrying so much about this?! It's not like he's my friend. He's an enemy! An adorable enemy- NO! Russia stop you it right there! He is not adorable!

I cleared those ..strange thoughts from my head as I walked up to my house and went inside. "Yay, Russia's home!" Belarus shouted as she ran to hug me. "Hey sis" I greeted. "So, you did survive" Ukraine joked. "yeah.." I said, remembering what I had seen. "Hey I have to go talk with dad, I'll be right back" I let go of Belarus and walked to dad's office. I swiftly knocked on the door only to be greeted with "Go away".

I opened the door and locked it from the inside. "Oh Russia, I didn't know you were home yet"my father stated. "Dad I have to talk with you about something," I said. "What is it? Did something happen while you were over at the pigs' house? Did they-" I cut him off before he got to worked up. "No. I just..saw something I don't think I was supposed to" He gave me a puzzled look. "America ..well...he had a bruise on his chest and on his arm..and when I asked he got really, REALLY defensive" I could tell my father was thinking. "I also found a bloody razor blade in his bathroom.." My dad got up and asked me to leave so he could call France, who was, if im correct, still at work.

I left to go back to my siblings, who in turn, asked me more questions than I even knew was possible. I sat them down and explained the suspected abuse to them, and had to make it clear that even if we hate each other, America doesn't deserve to suffer. We all waited for our father to get off the call with France, we hoped our suspicions weren't true.