(RusAme) ~ Roommates ~ (CountryHumans)

thirty thREEEEE

hey, just a word... feel free to voice your opinion if you disagree with something! but if you see someone saying something you don't like, don't attack them. i hate it when people delete their comments because there's a wave of angry children pressuring them to. everyone's entitled to their own opinion, and i actually find it really interesting when someone disagrees with what the majority of people are saying :0

Russia felt like complete shit, and he just knew it was his fucking roommate's fault. He would blame the overcast skies for his prolonged emotions of annoyance or whatever, but he actually liked it when the sky was a monotone grey. Much more calming.

"It's not America's fault," Belarus mumbled, almost like she knew what he was thinking. At first glance, it didn't even look like she was talking to him. Her lips barely moved when she spoke, and she didn't once look up from where her eyes were skimming over the pages of the book in her lap. "That's the first person you always try to pass the blame to. Then yourself."

Leaning forward, Russia rested his elbows on his knees and hung his head as he focused on a tattered leaf that was trembling next to his shoe. "So you think it's better for me to blame myself over something that's not my fault?"

Oh, wait. The little leaf wasn't just trembling, it was slowly moving, being dragged along by an ant. What the hell did an ant need a leaf for?

"I didn't say that, did I." Belarus had somehow managed to adopt that stone-cold voice of authority in high school, and it made Russia slightly uncomfortable. "I said don't blame America. Don't blame yourself, either."

The harsh edge in her voice faded off as she read her book, silently mouthing the words as she went.

"So who do I blame?" The ant hauling the leaf managed to go an inch or so before running into an impassable barrier; Russia's shoe. Russia watched as the ant slowly turned around and started marching off in the opposite direction, towards Russia's other foot. "This is all someone's fault. I feel like shit, and it's America's fault for making me remember shitty stuff. There, problem solved."

Belarus hummed noncommittally, still more focused on her book than Russia.

"He's just-- just an ass. He keeps adding to the shitshow by letting his dumb friends ruin my things, and he's flat out being hostile to me at this point-- so yeah, I'd say this is his fault." Russia nodded, trying to reassure himself that he hadn't done anything wrong. That he hadn't done anything to deserve this. He had been the victim first anyways!

"Russia, you have been fanning the flames with all that breath of yours you waste on talking." She licked her thumb before turning another page, probably only doing it because she knew Russia hated it when she did that. "Maybe you started some shit. Maybe you didn't. But either way, you've made no effort to fix anything."

"I--"

"Accusing and belittling your mentally ill roommate is not 'fixing,' Russia." Belarus snapped her book shut, the sharp sound accompanying her stern voice. It almost sounded as if she were scolding a dog. "Just because you have problems too doesn't mean you can lash out at others."

The ant finally reached his other foot, and Russia lifted it slightly, allowing the ant to crawl forward before he ground it into the pavement with the uneven treads of his shoe. The leaf crunched in a satisfying way. "It's not my fault if he can't handle the fucking truth, alright?" He refused to look at Belarus, glaring daggers at the smear of an ant that now covered a few centimeters of concrete. "He's-- he's a fucking coward, that's what he is. And he's so weak! I mean, medication?? For being a little sad??? No wonder he's fucking crazy."