Countryhumans One shots! (cause shipping is cute)

Rejected bond (Amerus Soulmate AU pt 1)

He had been in denial for weeks, but after starting to watch the other closer, he decided it wasn't that bad.

Slowly, he had fallen in love by watching the other, trying to understand the way he functioned, catching the similarities they shared like being the older brother of a family or their favourite color being blue, and also their differences, like the other's interest in sports and in math.

There had been a few times when they had have to work together, and it hadn't been that bad. They complemented eachother and at small moments, when they were distracted with a problem to solve, they fit like puzzle pieces.

In those brief moments that he could count on his hands, he had understood why Fate had tied them together.

But then the other would come back to reality, and his smiles would turn into expressions filled with hatred, disgust and disdain.

It hurt.

Russia had convinced himself that maybe it wasn't their time. Maybe they would walk different paths and, when reunited once again, after changing and maturing, they would be perfect for eachother. Under that pathetic excuse, he had allowed himself to fall deeper, to hold onto those small moments like an addict to poisonous drugs, signing his own demise quicker.

He watched down on the thread that connected him to the one he loved, the one who hated him.

The colour of his thread had been changing ever since America had started to interact more and more with him, either to smile at him or to mutter insults towards him. It had begun with a pale shade of pink, the red slowly washing out until it faded to a yellowish shade of it. Then, pink had dissolved into a pale and sick orange that had turned brown, the color of dried blood. Finally, the thread had started turning black, right from the middle and towards his hand.

He knew what would happen when the corruption touched his skin.

With each step of the slowly decay of his thread, he had gotten more and more sick. Starting with the headaches, going through the dizziness and the vomiting, and lastly the fever. His body had suffered for weeks, and he had only tried to get closer to the other, hoping it would change his feelings if they knew eachother better.

That had only made things go faster.

He had gone through all the steps of grief. From denial (he can love me, we just met at the wrong time and the wrong place), to anger (it's so unfair, his side of the thread is perfect and nourished with love, why can't he love me the same!), to bargaining (maybe I am the problem, if only I was better at communicating maybe he would actually see me), to depression (I should just stay in bed, what's the point of getting up at all?) And to acceptance.

He had come to the realization that there was nothing he could do to change the other's feelings. He didn't knew where all of them had come from, but he knew his situation was irremediable. Maybe that had been his Destiny all along, to die a tragic death by an unrequited love.

He felt his eyes widen when he lowered his gaze once again. The dark stain of death had been at least twenty centimetres away from his hand this morning, but in his brief monologue, it had climbed up to five.

He raised his hand shakily.

"Yes Russia?" The teacher asked, seemingly with relief at him talking once again.

"I need to go to the bathroom" he said and bolted out of the classroom as soon as he was given permission to get out.

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America yawned, trying to hide behind Canada so the teacher wouldn't notice. Rubbing his eyes he tried to focus on the whiteboard, filled with words and arrows pointing in every direction. The teacher had been probably trying to make things more exciting and easy by explaining things on the board with all those exclamation marks and circles, but the truth is that the subject was plainly boring.