Tʜᴇ Isʟᴀɴᴅ Iɴ Bᴇᴛᴡᴇᴇɴ

Tʜᴇ Oɴʟʏ Oɴᴇ Wʜᴏ Kɴᴏᴡs

Cʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ 7

"Oh God, I'm so sorry they were bothering you, I take my eyes off of Maya for one second and she's already dragging Aiden halfway across the island!"

You smiled at Marla, shaking your hands to dismiss her apology. "It's alright, they did no harm, really."

The wind whispered quietly around you. The Sun fell in shattered beams through the gathered clouds. After an eventful walk of listening to Maya pester Russia for a good twenty minutes, you had made it back to the town square— a large stone pavemented area lined with flower patches and flanked with three shops. Marla had been standing there talking quietly to Sarah Kacey, the mayor of your small town, when she had first noticed you approaching with her daughter.

"Well if they ever do it again, they won't be getting any dessert for the next few weeks." Marla declared sternly, looking at a sulking Maya who was staring in shame at her flat shoes. "I'll make sure they won't bother you too often. Especially now that you have a guest."

Your smile pulled down at your lips, you turned your head away. Russia was standing a few meters to the side, kicking the ground with his feet awkwardly. As if he knew the two of you were watching him.

"They didn't bother him much, did they?" She asked intuitively, making sure to speak low so Russia wouldn't hear, her eyes gazing at your turned face. "Not really. I'm not all that sure, he didn't seem to know what to do with them. But he didn't seem bothered."

Marla laughed, her voice bounding around the square with joyous energy. The sound seemed to make Russia tense up, flinching ever so slightly, before he let loose again. Continuing to kick at the ground, completely unsure of what to do with himself.

Marla's whispery voice cut back through the sudden silence. "How is he? Did he settle in alright?" You stared at him. His posture, his expression, his mannerisms— everything about him. He seemed nervous— awkward. As if he wasn't sure if this was where he was supposed to be. "I think so. I'm not entirely sure." You replied, prying your eyes off of him slowly.

"Give him some time, he must be having bad culture shock." Marla comforted the idea, smiling at you in encouragement. "But he will settle down eventually, just give him a bit of time."

Silence met the deadened voices. The breeze whisked through the late afternoon. Quietly, you turned back to face him once more, he was still repeating his actions, he still seemed anxious. Birds sang through the wind, the roar of the sea became clear, you could almost hear the buzz of the Sun peering down at you.

"Well, It's best I bring this one home and show Aiden back to his parents. It was lovely seeing you, dearie." Marla proclaimed with a smile, wrapping one of her arms around her daughter, drawing her forward. "Oh and it was lovely seeing you too Russia, I hope you enjoy this fine day here!" She called out, opting for Russia to finally draw his head up, though he seemed to struggle to meet her gaze. "Uh, Da, I vill." He answered, glancing away in nervous ticks.

"I'll see you around (𝚈/𝙽)." She said, then turned to leave, the two young kids following after her.

You stared at her retreating figure for a moment, then drew your head back to look at Russia. Upon noticing you looking at him, he broke eye contact, and darted his eyes everywhere but to you.

You smiled at his awkwardness, then walked over to him.

"Soooooo," you started, clapping your hands uncomfortably together. "What now?"

"I kouldn't kare less." He spat, meeting your eyes with a glare. You froze, then blinked. "Okay...? Well, how about we just talk...?" You asked, your voice quivering subtly, unsure of what exactly you should have said.

Russia scoffed loudly. "About what?" You thought for a moment, then intertwined your hands. "Um, do you have kids? You're really good with them." You asked with a marked hesitation, something Russia noticed. "Niet." He spluttered, turning away. You awkwardly did the same. "Oh."

The birds sang a little louder, the breeze brushed a little harder, the sea roared deeper from its cliffside prison, the waves crashed everywhere around you, the Sun met the ground with rejuvenated fingers.

You turned back to Russia.

"Hey, are you alright? UN had mentioned something was off with you, he said something about you being a little down, do you want to talk about it?"

Russia's face went pale, his white eyes widened until they stretched uncomfortably in their sockets, his whole body tensed painfully. His lips drew up in a snarl, the corner veins in his eyes popped and darkened, his head tilted up. "Zats none of your fucking business, how fucking dare you ask me zat." His voice exploded. Tone low and heavy, anger dripping off his words like water.

Your eyes widened, you took a step back. "I didn't mean—" But you couldn't finish your words. You just stared wide-eyed at him. "Zis whole zing is fucking stupid, zere's nothing wrong vith me, I don't need help. You're vaste of my time." He spat, then turned and retreated towards your lighthouse. His head down and steps quick. Leaving you standing there in shock.

It took you a moment to compose yourself. You looked around to ensure no one saw what happened. But there was no one around.

The birds sang a little lower, the breeze calmed down, the Sun slowly hid himself behind a flurry of clouds, the roaring sea became a white noise whining in the back of your mind. The day was wearing thin. And as you watched Russia's figure get smaller and smaller, the light around you seemed to follow him, the clouds growing thicker. You turned your head away.

Then the birds sang no more.

You dragged your feet towards the old rickety bench opposite the shops at the town square— just north of the hollowing cliffs that kept the sea at bay.

You sat down with a groan. Pushing your hands into your pocket you brought out a pack of cigarettes and your beautiful vintage silver lighter— a heirloom your Great-Grandfather once had with him during the first war.

Pulling a fag from the pack, you slipped it between your lips and lit it.

The only sound beyond the sea was the crisp burning of paper as the dim flame began to eat it away. You breathed it in, your anxiety flushing out of your body slowly, your beating heart calming.

You watched the waves from beyond the drop. The white foam the sea brought forth pushed onto the beach alcove miles below you. Though you couldn't see it. The cliffs reared too high for you to see the beach. The golden sands of shells were somewhere in the back of your imagination, your eyes could only see the blue waves soaring towards the alcove, breaking just before they vanished.

You looked higher. The skyline fell slowly, the sea drawing higher.

How sad were you now, to sit here on your own instead of chasing after him? He was obviously lying, of course, he was lying. There was something wrong, though how could you know, when he didn't even seem to know what it was himself?

There was no greater animosity than hatred for oneself. There was no contest. One cannot love another without first loving oneself.

You knew he didn't like who he was. It was obvious, inside and out, the way he treated people he interacted with, how he reacted to personal questions. It was nothing short of obvious acrimony.

But you truly did believe that under all that selfish hatred. The disdain for who he was as a person, there was a genuinely good being in him. And even though he didn't know it himself. You thought it to be true.

You took one last drag of your cigarette, then flicked it. The view of the waves vanished behind a cloud you expelled between open lips.

The waves broke, the cloud drifted, your eyes slackened.

Only if he knew there was.