The Assasination Game

Oh Shit

About two minutes later, Russia started stirring again, and this time he awoke. At first, he thought he was confused, because he could feel something resting against his chest. Blinking heavily, he looked down and tried to see through his blurred vision. All he could see so far was a head with blue and red.

Oh Pangea please don't be who I think it is.

Very slowly, he pulled himself away, starting with his arm. His breath hitched as the American started mumbling a little and tried to snuggle up closer to him. His arm hovered just above his shoulder. 

Ah shit ah shit ah shitshitshitshit

They stopped moving and he was able to use his arm to push himself up off of his other arm. One knee pushed out under him and he lifted his entire body in one motion. Still kind of woozy, he stumbled a little and almost stepped on the person's hand.

Having caught his balance, he paused to look down at the very person he'd just been laying next to. Yup. That's America.

Did he purposely crawl up next to me? How long had he been there?

He looked at the couch and, judging by the scattered blanket that lay at America's feet, and the fact that the couch was parallel with Russia, made the assumption that America had fallen off the couch next to him and they just happened to curl up into each other. He thought about moving him, but didn't want to risk him waking up and asking questions.
But he'd probably still question it if he woke up where Russia had been sleeping. And he had fallen off the couch and not woken up, so...

With that reasoning, he very carefully scooped the smaller country into his arms picked him up bridal style. With a his breath held, he lowered the American back down on the couch and removed his arms. When he pulled away, he let out the breath and put his hands on his hips, continuing to stare down at him.

Poland's not here. He must've woken up already. Does that mean he saw us laying together? What did he think? Shit, I guess I should talk to him.

America started curling in on himself, and Russia realized he was half naked. Only his shirt and a pair of briefs on. Russia picked up the blanket that the American had had and covered him with it again.

I don't want him questioning anything, he reasoned to himself.

Why else would he be doing all this?

He was in the middle of folding his blanket and comforter and stacking them with his pillow, when he caught the scent of something cooking. And the sound of people talking and laughing. 

So I guess they're still here. 

He ventured out if the living room to the kitchen, where everyone excluding South Korea and Germany - and of course, America - were eating food. They were laughing at Indonesia while he tried to balance a short stalk of bamboo on his nose. Philip was recording it and Japan and Malaysia cheered him on. Poland and Canada just laughed and smiled pleasantly at the scene.

As soon as Russia's presence was known, they all stopped what they were doing to look at him. Nervously, I might add. Russia suddenly felt very unwelcomed.

"H-hey, Russia. How'd you sleep?" Canada tried making some sort of greeting while fixing a plate of food, "I made food, if you're interested."