Trust is Dangerous- Russia x Germany

Friends, Family and a Pillar

It was only today, when I was eating my lunch in the dining hall, after my not very bad philosophy class, staring outside at the sparrows flying in the nippy February wind did I think that maybe I was becoming clingy. I didn't even think about that. I stopped chewing and thought. Did Russia find me clingy? Why was I even worried? I set down my plate and fork and just left, not even putting the utensils and plate in the trash. I went outside to find some peace, only to be bothered by America, who was wearing a bright sequin covered yellow shirt. For some reason. I sat down on one of the old wooden benches in the shade of the large hall.

"Hey Germany," he slid up to me. "Didnt you ever realise that the word 'dying' is in the word 'studying'?"

"I'm sure you're not the first one to think of that." I remarked. "Its a matter of opinion."

"Naw, you think studying is fun?" He asked, looking me over the brim of his sunglasses.

I shrugged. "Not fun. More like important."

"You need to get your priorities straight, mister." He tisked. "By the way, where might your special someone be? I need to ask him a question."

I looked at my watch. "He would be...at his drama class. Or else a free period."

"Aw, memorized his schedule?" America cooed exactly like a mourning dove.

"Um...sort of." I felt blush creep on my cheeks. It was cold, so it might just seem like a coincidence.

"If it was his free period then he would be with you, I'll bet." He rubbed his arms, shivering slightly. Never did it occur to the American that in the winter, people are supposed to dress warmly. At least he had long pants on, but he still had, what Russia called "Sailor's Chest". He had no scarf or cowlick, was what he meant. But Russia spoke in complex vocabulary and foreign proverbs.

"You know that we don't spend every minute together, right?" I said. "We're not that close yet." The cold breeze stirred and America yelped form the sudden drop in temperature. Wind always made things worse, and it seemed Mr. UK's island was a harbour for it. "We still are pretty separate."

"Not for long!" America declared.

"We'll see." A deep voice behind him said.

"Oh, hi Russia!" America whipped around to face Russia. He was again with his thick binder and half frown staring down at America.

"What was the conversation about?" Russia put one of his hands into his pocket, holding his binder with his left arm. He sat down next to me, zipping up his coat midway.

"You. And Germany."

"Hmm, interesting." He flipped through his binder. "Not."

"What were you doing?" He asked curiously.

"So nosy." Russia muttered. "Doing stuff."

"Like what?"

"None of your business." Russia turned to me and started to talk as if America wasn't gaping at us. "How long is your free period?"

"As long as yours." I said, shuffling though my papers absentmindedly.

"Oh, okay." He looked up briefly watching the birds. "See you at class then." As soon as he came, he left. Just like that. It was hard to be systematic with Russia. He would plan at his own pace and time. And he would abruptly leave, both in real life and in chats. He would respond when he felt like it. But he would always pick up the phone, no matter what. America watched him go and then turned to me with a quizzical look.

"He behaves in such random ways." He noted.

"Yes. It's his personality."

"What's in his binder, I wonder." America muttered to himself. I shook my head and sighed. "I didn't even get to ask my question. I wanted to ask if he wasn't occupied tomorrow evening, so that he could see my beautiful poetry recitation. It's going to be in Spanish!"