A Mistake? ||BritSov Countryhumans||

Chapter 18- USSR.

By the time he made it, he was gasping for air. He just wasn't used to running so far nowadays. Well, atleast he was there now. The night was rolling in at this point, the sky darkening more quicker than he would've liked. Quick Britain, quick!

"S-Soviet? You there?" Britain stumbled on his own feet, nearly falling on his face, but he picked himself up just in time.

Careful Brit. You don't want to die before you get there.

He came closer, slowing down as a familiar darkness blurred his vision and head. That automatically made the Brit speed up again, making it to the place where they gazed at the stars everytime he couldn't sleep.

Making his way through the cold air, he finally caught sight of a certain country he'd been wanting to see for ages.

But, what now? What does he say? Oh hello I'm here because I regret kicking you out. Please come back so I can tell you how I actually feel-

Uh, no.

Britain stood there awkwardly, weirdly afraid to talk to the Russian sitting in front of the tree peacefully with his eyes closed. He didn't know he was there did he? Breathe Britain. You can do this. I think.

Britain then opened his mouth to speak, but closed it again.

Okay okay, think about it Brit. If you don't speak, then you'll have more to lose than if you do. What's it gonna be?

He knew he answer to that question.

"Soviet...?"

USSR opened an eye, immediately recognising the voice. He looked surprised at first, but his expression soon softened, his eyes oddly happy to see him.

"Teacup? Why'd you come?" USSR asked, straightening his posture.

"I ...uh ...realised that ...I ...I ..." Britain severe stuttering was making it impossible to say anything. Normally, if he wasn't in situations like this, then he would try to avoid stuttering at all costs. It just wasn't professional or proper. But as time grew on he just gave up, but the accent naturally still stuck, so it didn't really matter as anything he said sounded just the same.

USSR tilted his head to one side, raising an eyebrow. However, he was smiling, almost like he was expecting this.

"I have a feeling I know why you're here. Um, you know what? Sit here." He decided, patting the space beside him.

Britain said nothing, reluctantly doing so. USSR looked at him like he was a kid that needed comforting. Not mad, or upset. He didn't understand. The Brit lowered his gaze to his knees as he crossed his legs.

"Why?" Britain asked.

"Why what?"

"Why aren't you mad?"

USSR chuckled softly, putting his free hand on the Brit's shoulder.

"I know what you were trying to do Brit. I know you well enough by now to know what your intentions really are." USSR answered calmly.

"Then you're the only person who actually understands me. Everyone else just takes everything I do the wrong way, even my kids," Britain said scornfully, "you still know what I said Sov. I only did it so I wouldn't feel bad about actually seeing you go. I didn't think about you."

"Britain. You know, I am going tonight-"

"Wait, how... how do you know that you're going tonight?" Britain asked, sounding worried.

"A feeling." USSR smiled.

Britain didn't question it. He trusted him.

"And there is no reason to blame yourself for trying to protect your feelings. It's all natural. And anyways, I've already forgiven you. It's me that should be saying sorry. I brung up a sensitive topic where it really shouldn't have been brought up." USSR scratched his neck apologetically.