Prove Me Wrong (Rusame)

Dont Judge a Book By Its Cover

Russia's POV

Can't believe America actually suggested coming over. Can't believe I agreed to it. To be honest, it caught me off guard. My Dad hated him and his father, too. No way that idiot would want to come here.

I tried to look at my notes to see if I had anything useful in them but got frustrated at the half-written sheets. A few notes and highlighted packets, but that's about it. Nothing useful. I was never fully there in class to even learn what was being taught.

I heard my sister Belarus laughing from down the hall and heard another voice along with her's. That was New Zealand then. She had told me that he was going to come over to hang out with her. Dad would never let her anywhere near that kid, but since he's no longer here, I let her make friends with who she wants.

My eyes drifted from my spot at the kitchen table, to where my Dad used to sit. His chair was pushed in, having never been moved since he last touched it. He was a good father if you looked beyond some of his issues. He would drink, yes, but, contrary to popular belief, he never laid a hand on us. He loved us all and protected us with his life. And that's what got him killed.

A knock on the door startled me from my thoughts. I shook my head and whipped away the formations of tears from my eyes. That must be America at the door, and I'm not going to cry like a wimp in front of him.

"Hey Rus, hope you didn't forget about me." America stood in my front doorway with his hands on his hips and his chest lifted. Why he looked so confident and almost cocky was beyond me. It was just his entire personality.

"Как я могу, вы делаете это невозможно сделать." (How can I, you make that impossible to do.)

"Huh?"

"Nothing, get in herrre." I stepped away from the doorway and walked back into the kitchen. America took a few minutes before he found me sitting in my normal spot at the table. He had taken his shoes off, courteous of him, and took the seat across from me.

Silence.

God, I hated silence. But that's all that there was. America was looking around for a little while then stared at his notes. I could tell that he wanted to say something but couldn't form the words. I took notice how often he opened his mouth, only to quickly close it. He looked nervous, a few droplets of sweat forming on his forehead.

"Sooooo...." He finally spoke up and laid the papers down flat in front of me. I looked at him and raised an eyebrow.

"What do you do here for fun?" America wiped his forehead and relaxed his shoulders a little more. Everyone was always on edge whenever they were around me. Only a few countries didn't act like he was now. Everyone thought I was scary, or dangerous. Half the time, I don't think it's me they see. I think they see my Dad.

"Why?" I asked.

"I dunno, cause this project leaves a lot of waiting time and I get bored easily." America stood up and started looking through the kitchen cupboards and drawers. With suspicious eyes I watched him move around the kitchen before I stood up. I put everything back the way it was before America touched it, then I grabbed the boy by his shirt and plopped him back down in his seat.

"Rrread. I kan't rrread English vell." I pointed to his notes and America picked them back up and started reading them out loud to me.

~~~~~~~~~

It was dark by the time we decided on the topic of our experiment. America finally agreed to my suggestion; growing crystals.

"Oh, maybe for bonus points we could make rock candy and give them to everyone." America wrote down his idea in his notebook. I nodded along with him, unsure what rock candy was, and continued to make supper for my siblings. I tried to remember who was where, home, or at a friend's house. How my dad managed to keep track of us surprised me, but I have to be the one to do that now.