(RusAme) ~ Roommates ~ (CountryHumans)

-t-w-e-n-t-y-

i just want someone to play with my hair and maybe hug me once in a while, is that too much to ask for?? apparently

also unedited, oop-

Russia's headache had been steadily increasing throughout the day. Everything was shit.

When he had gone to hang out with Belarus yesterday, she had basically dismissed him, saying that she had 'too much homework.' Maybe that was true, but Russia felt it was a roundabout way of saying 'get lost.' He hadn't bothered to see if Ukraine wanted to hang out. He'd probably get the same answer anyways.

So he had just wandered around, eventually finding a half-finished smoldering cigarette on the ground behind one of the buildings. He had picked it up, almost putting it to his mouth before deciding against it and snuffing the end out against the side of the building. If he really wanted to smoke, then he wouldn't do it with someone's leftovers.

After that, Russia had dinner at one of the more secluded cafes on campus (just a bland ham sandwich and an energy drink) before hanging out at the library. He read the preface to a book about why absolute monarchy and imperialism were obviously oppressive and poor choices for a government, which made him a bit mad. He thought absolute monarchy sounded like a pretty good idea.

Eventually, he had ended up in bed a little past midnight. Thankfully, America was already asleep when he arrived in their dorm, the one good thing about an awful day.

But it wasn't like today was any better. He had gotten up early to avoid his stupid roommate, but the way America had been staring at him for about an hour from across the classroom made Russia think that he wanted to talk about something, which wasn't what Russia wanted. So far, every interaction with him had proved troublesome.

Was it too late to request a roommate change? Probably.

Fiddling with his pencil, Russia accidentally made it fly off his desk, clattering to the floor a few feet away, too far for him to reach. He stared at it with disappointment.

After another quick glance, Russia found that America was still looking at him. Ugh. He rubbed his temples, then gazing at the teacher with a blank expression. It wasn't that he hated America. It was just that the other country was so annoying and childish and dependent, especially when he was drunk. Which was most the time, apparently.

I guess that's ironic, coming from me, Russia thought humorlessly. At least he knew his limits. America just seemed to get black-out drunk at every chance he got.

One of the countries sitting next to him coughed obnoxiously. Russia covered his mouth and turned away.

"Alright, you guys are free to go," the teacher announced. "Remember, there's a five page essay due on Friday, so don't forget to turn it in online."

Ah. A paper. That didn't sound very fun. Russia took out his phone and started fiddling with it, wanting to wait until most everyone was gone before he got up. No use in trying to push through a sea of people.

"Rus, can we talk really quick?"

He sighed internally, turning his phone off and slipping it into his pocket. It was America. Of course. "Fine. What."

The teacher left the room. Russia and America were the only ones left. "Well, I talked with Georgia at lunch today."

Great. That was just great. Russia couldn't wait to be accused of something and lectured.

"And I just thought that -- hey, are you even listening?"

"No," said Russia bluntly. "I don't care."