Oneshots of Whatever (mainly Countryhumans) (Finished-ish)

64 - Crumble 🇩🇪🇷🇺

I wrote this a while ago so if there's mistakes, I'm sorry

Classes. Stress. Family. Anxiety. Expectations. Depression. Finals. Tests. Friends. Sleep. All those things haunted Russia like ghosts. He couldn't talk to anyone on campus, not even his roommate, America, because if he did, the rest of the students would mock him for warming up to someone. His "friends" were never there, all having Dungeons and Dragons parties without him, or talking about him behind his back. How did he know? Simple, America told him. He was friends with Russia's friends, getting invited to the DnD games and parties with free vodka.

Russia sighed as he rolled over to face his alarm clock. 6:10 am, Saturday, December 25, [Enter year]

"Happy birthday, me," Russia mumbled, feeling tears cloud his vision. While everyone celebrated Christmas, he was left alone to drown is sadness. Russia closed his eyes, furrowing his brow as a lump placed itself in his throat. He rolled off the bed and sat on the floor, rummaging through the cupboard of his bedside table. He pulled out a half-empty bottle of vodka.

He was about to open it when there was a knock at the front door. Russia sighed, standing up, placing the bottle on the table, and walking out of his room and to the main entrance. He opened the door to see Germany and Poland standing there.

"Hi?" Russia asked, clearly confused.

"Hey, Russia..." Germany trailed off. Russia felt hope rise through him. Nope, that was just his crushing on the small country. "I was wondering if America was here?" His accent twirled the words elegantly.

Russia sighed, "Yeah." He felt that little bit of hope drain from his as he walked to America's room, the two other countries following him. They said their goodbyes and Russia went back to his room. He looked at the room, his eyes landing on a picture.

It was framed on his desk, one of him, Ukraine, Belarus, Third Reich, and USSR. He took it in his shaking hand, and lifted it off his desk. Tears fell from his eyes as he glared sadly at the picture. He gritted his teeth, walking over to his closed door. He took one last look at the picture before opening his door and throwing it across the room. It hit the wall and broke into a million pieces.

He looked at the shocked faces of Germany, America, and Poland with authority, like he was told to do that by his father. Russia turned around and walked into his room with his head held high. Once the door to his room closed, he dropped the act. He dropped his head and fell to his knees, all the expectations weighing him down.

There was a knock on his door, "Russia?" It was the USSR. Russia instantly stood up, wiping the tears and opening the door.

"Hello, father," Russia said.

USSR glanced over his attire and posture, "Hello, Russia. I have brought you something."

"What for?" Russia asked, begging that his father didn't mention his birthday around America, Germany, and Poland.

"Your birthday, of course," USSR said, holding out a rather small box. It was wrapped in white paper, sealed with a red ribbon. "Your dad wrapped it."

Russia chuckled, "I guessed." He carefully unwrapped it and saw it was a dark red bracelet with a small, silver pendant that said, "Russia." He could tell Ukraine made it and Belarus chose the colors. There was another small thing inside the box. After slipping on the bracelet, Russia saw it was a swisarmy knife. It wasn't the usual vibrant red, though. This one was painted to match his flag.

"Do you like them?" USSR asked.

Russia looked up with a large smile, "I love them, father. Thank you." He hugged the taller one, separating soon after. "Tell dad thanks for me."