Black Coffee :|: America x Russia :|: Countryhumans

(OPT. B) Chapter Sixty

TRIGGER WARNING

The 'r' word. Don't really wanna spoil anything but it's a bad word and it's bad

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"If my legacy is to throw myself in front of a bullet to save your life, then so be it."

"Oh stop being so dramatic. I only asked you for help with physics homework."

"And I will forever hold you to that for being stupid~" America cooed, leaning into the counter on his forearms.

Russia chuckled, "At least I'm not America levels of stupid."

"Hey! Need I remind you who you came to for help with homework?"

"Just shut up and help me!" Russia groaned, paper rustling over the phone.

"Ok, what are you having trouble with?"

America grabbed an apple from the fridge, leaning against the counter again, making himself comfortable. He twisted the stem over and over, until it was hanging by a thread before snapping it off and rolling it back and forth between his fingers.

"This stupid problem."

"Gotta be more specific, Ruski. What page?"

"Um," there was more rustling in the background and the sharp, hollow sound of a pencil on wood. "Ninety-Four. The one about Stacy and the power grid in her town."

"Oh that one? That one's easy as he'll, what are you talking about?" America chuckled, biting into his apple and licking some of the juice dripping down.

"Well not for me!!" Russia groaned, exasperated. "It's like how you get numbers mixed up, I read English words and they just go right over my head!"

America frowned, swallowing and keeping the Apple close to his mouth, "Really? I didn't know you had such a hard time with English."

He heard a tired sigh over the phone, "Well I do. I have to know thirteen damn languages fluently and be expected to pull them out at a moments notice. I not as proficient in English as I would like to be and adding physics тарабарщина (Russian: jargon) into the mix isn't helping. Do you know how hard it is to have to translate everything in my head before I say it? And I barely ever get to talk to anyone in my own home in my own language because everyone's speaking English for the ones who don't know Russian well enough or speaking Georgian or Kazakh or whatever."

"Rus, I had no idea--"

"Yes, I do not like to talk about it because it makes me feel...well, pathetic, really," Russia began speaking slower as his accent became thicker, his words breaking apart. "I try so hard to sound like a natural speaker but I say things too slow to sound natural."

America stood silently in Veitnam's kitchen, biting his lip. If he listened hard enough he could hear Russia's siblings yelling at each other. He never knew Russia had such trouble with English but in hindsight it made sense. Ukraine wasn't as proficient in English and when he got drunk all his conjoining words would just jump right out the window. He just wished Russia had told him sooner so that he could help him - or at least understand.

"...I am sorry I brought this up, you don't need to worry about my problems."

He spoke with less of an accent now, but he seemed to be struggling to abbreviate his words.

"No, no, I'm glad you told me. Now I know what the problem is I can help you! Maybe I can work on translating it as best as I can into Russian and that might help you work out everything?"