Trust is Dangerous- Russia x Germany

Where the Wind Takes Me

Well. Today was a horrible day. I was in my car, staring out at the government building that I just was in. Sighing, I rested my head on the steering wheel, thinking of what I could do. I lost my job. Well, better to say, my factory closed down. I don't know what to do. Tears threatened to flow, and my brow was permanently scrunched up in worry and pain. I watched wistfully the other people coming out of the building, all in expensive tailored jackets, designer handbags, gold watches, and ropes of jewellery. I watched them, my heart dark with envy and anger. I didn't know how I would come home and pretend that it was a normal day. I didn't need to worry my children, since it would negatively affect their already negatively affected lives. Sitting in my hard beaten car, I wondered how to go on. To admit defeat was not an option. To go on pension? That would mean to become an officially deceased country. Not if I can help it. I was calculating my costs and debts out to see if I could just self sustain on our farmland, when somebody rapped the window on my passenger side. I looked up to see a certain Englishman, all decked up in his formal suit and top hat, signalling that he wanted to talk. Sighing, I opened my window.

"Well, hello." I detested my accent. It made me sound so lowly and aggressive.

"Good day, Soviet," Britain nodded. His refined and calm voice radiated much authority. "Mind to talk for a bit? I know you must be terribly busy, yet it seems I've found you in a time that you are not. Are you up for a stroll?"

I wanted to hiss in his face and ask his arrogant self to leave, but instead I nodded and said: "Hm, I see no reason why not."

"Excellent," he smiled. "There is quiet a nice place right around the corner," He waited till I climbed out of the car and we walked side by side down the block. I felt a bit awkward walking down such a fancy part of town in a tan frock coat and much abused brownish ushanka (I don't bother to even wash it anymore.) As the second tallest country in the world, Britain was dwarfed by my sheer size, but he remained his steady and purposeful stride along side me. We eventually came to a nice looking park, where instead of trees and brambles were statuettes and trimmed bushes. Walking along in silence, I was not sure why he brought me here. I felt trapped by the petite walkways inlaid with intricate patterns, nearly cut grass, quiet fountains and pleasing architecture. It reminded me sort of my father's own gardens where I used to play by myself, alone and left out. I never wanted my children to ever be alone--that's why I have so many of them. Britain took out his luxurious gold timepiece on a chain and looked at the time. I couldn't even tear my eyes away from the face of the clock, the small gems and the facets, and the cost of it...Britain must've seen me stare with my hungry eye, because he pocketed the thing quickly. "Is...something bothering you, Soviet?"

"Me? No, not at all." I lied, shaking my head. Again, I didn't speak often to not hear my own awful accent. How I hated it. How stupid and uneducated it made me sound. Britain looked like he was unsure of trusting my answer, and I smiled a little too widely in response.

"Are you sure?"

"Mhmm," I frantically nodded. Alright, my lie was falling to pieces. Britain wasn't naïve or oblivious. He caught on.

"I'm serious, Soviet. I don't like to mess in people's personal business, but..." uh huh, Britain. Say that to all your servants, as to say, colonies. I'm sure they were happy enough to let you meddle in their affairs. "...I also don't like when people suffer alone."

"That's literally been most of my life!" Ugh, that 'e' sound. I can't ever get it right. Britain swiped his tongue over his lips before sighing.

"You must know your son is a gifted child," he went on.

"I do."

"And you must be around of him. He really has a bright future. I picked his application out personally."