Met In The Snow-Countryhumans

Chapter 8

Soviets POV

I sit on the side of my bed. I fiddle with my ushanka that I hold in my hands as I think. I can't sleep with all these thoughts in my head. This country... Britain... I don't quite know how to process it. I think... I... I don't really know... He's so bright and heartwarming. He can be childish and that makes me laugh, which isn't entirely a normal reaction for me. He's different... Unique. He has one of the most wonderful smiles... And laugh. God, his laugh... I haven't really seen or felt that about a country in a long time... Emotions are just confusing.

It's just that... He's straight, isn't he?... I think. He seems to get quite flustered but I would assume he just gets embarrassed easily. That's what I thought at first, but now I'm doubting myself... Or it's just that I can't accept that fact, and hope that in some kind of way, it isn't true...

Come on Soviet. You haven't even met each other for that long. It's just... My husbands passing... I had refused to move on and my kids were annoyed by it. I didn't want to try and be with anyone else, I didn't feel like I could ever meet someone that would make me smile again. My kids gave up on me and I almost gave up on myself... almost.

Then I met Britain. A country who had experienced something like me. Loosing someone you loved. That feeling of loneliness and helplessness. He... just something about him that day... his smile, his soft blue eyes, I couldn't believe what went through my head. But then he did it, he made me smile, he made me happy. For the first in a long time and now... just seeing him makes me happy. I feel the need to make sure he is okay and happy himself, I don't want him going down the route I almost went down. He doesn't deserve that.

My thoughts are interrupted by the sound of crying.

Curious, I get up from my bed and walk to the door. I put my ushanka on my head and I open the door gently and quietly walk into the hallway as I listen for the crying and follow its sound. As I had thought, it leads to Britain's door. A large amount of concern grows in me and I open the door.

I find Britain sitting up in bed crying. It's still dark in the room and I can't see that well.

"Britain, what wrong?" I ask the crying country.

He still cries but has switched to sniffling so he can speak. Hearing his sad cries pains me. I don't want to hear the cheery country I have befriended cry. I know it didn't hurt me this much when I first met him and he was crying.

"I-It's nothing of y-y-your concern, S-Soviet. Y-Y-You don't need t-to w-worry about m-m-me." Britain stutters.

I frown, unhappy with the answer. I walk over to the bed. Britain's body movements suggests an uncertainty in me walking over to him. I gradually get to the edge of the bed.

"But I am concerned." I say facing Britain. "You are like young child, fragile and so I develop concern."

Britain's crying slightly calms. He seems more confused if anything.

"I..." Britain mutters.

"But I would understand if can't talk about it. My kids would get upset in night too and it would be ages before they would tell me why." I say recalling the memories of it.

How did I calm them down?
Oh yeah, I remember.

"I-It's fine... um... if you really want to k-know I... I" Britain tries his hardest to form the words. "... I have n-nightmares of people l-leaving m-m-me... I just, have a fear of b-being alone I guess... b-but... they scare m-me because... because they're t-t-true... everyone I've e-ever met just l-leaves m-me..." Britain says with more tears.

I've never had to deal with such an emotional country as Britain. It makes me sad to see him sad. He begins to go back to crying again.
I am going to try to calm him down like my kids.