Let's Just Be Human (Finished)

Chapter 10: Maybe We're Not Screwed

This is a very short bit, just to tie up that loose end from last chapter. I'll describe how the story was going to end in the Authors Note.

America didn't come out of the guest room for the rest of that night, or most of the following day. Soviet was both worried and upset, all at the same time. He'd found himself glancing at the guest room door many times throughout the day, wondering what he'd done wrong. America had kissed him first, so why did he seem so angry now? Was Soviet not supposed to kiss back?

He huffed, staring out the kitchen window. It was storming, rain blurring the sunset sky. Perfect weather for agonizing over small things.

When America had kissed him, it was like a puzzle piece fell into place. Maybe he didn't have to ostracize himself anymore, maybe he could let himself have a heart. He certainly did with America.

But now, something had changed. What, he didn't know, but now the capitalist was avoiding him.  What the hell had he done wrong? What had made America go from flirty and romantic to closed off and cold so quickly?A kiss should do the opposite. Kisses brought people closer, not tear them apart.

This begged the question, why haven't I talked to him? Soviet didn't really have an answer. In truth, he was scared. Not that America didn't feel the same way, but that he did. What if he hurt him again? Left him? He couldn't hurt another person again, he wouldn't let himself. But he was hurting both of them by avoiding him. They just needed to talk it out.

Soviet stood, planning out what he would say before he would say it. I'm sorry I've done something wrong -No, that sounded too fake. Why are you avoiding me? Sounded like a guilt trip. What happened? The best option, the simplest. So he knocked on the door and waited.

Nothing.

He knocked again. "America, can we talk? Please?"

A click, and the door opened. It was dark inside the bedroom but he could still see America hiding behind the door, the slight glare off his glasses giving away where he was. "Yes?"

"Can I come in? So we can talk?" Soviet asked, almost pleading. America seemed to sense his desperation and opened the door so he could come in.

Soviet closed the door behind him and leaned on it, taking everything in. America sat on the edge of the bed, and even in the darkness he looked exhausted. Dark circles under his eyes, shoulders dropped wearily. Had he slept at all last night? "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," America replied, a little too quick to be true. The way he said it showed he didn't want to talk about it, so Soviet moved on.
"What happened last night? I...Did I do something?"

America shook his head, pushing his glasses up. He looked...almost relieved. Like he'd been wanting to talk too, just too scared to ask. "I...I don't know, really. It's not that I don't like you, because I do, but...I don't want to risk getting caught and losing you." He paused for a moment, meeting Soviet's gaze. His eyes were full of an emotion Soviet couldn't name.  Fear? Or something else? "I can't lose you again." He said quietly.

Soviet's heart did somersaults, and then he cursed it. Serious moment, he shouldn't be happy about being thought of like that.

He took a long inhale, trying to word this in a not-blunt way. America's fears were valid, certainly, but what good would they do? It seemed almost impossible that they'd be caught, and besides, since when had either of them cared about the rules? "America...you're not going to lose me. How would we even get caught?"

"I don't know, Sovi. What if I'm here and Russia finds out? He hates me, he'd turn me in to NATO or UN in a heartbeat." America shook his head, curling in on himself slightly.