Chapter 26: America "reads a book"

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Bro Syria should be itself ^Also, perhaps I should check out Tik Tok

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Bro Syria should be itself ^
Also, perhaps I should check out Tik Tok...

In all seriousness I don't actually hate the French that much. I just don't exactly like the language, and I just feel like they need some humbling once in a while. So to any French people, as long as you're not a bitch, you're valid :)

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-*Russia's POV*-

Russia knew.

He noticed the way America looked down awkwardly when Russia asked him what happened last night. How he said that he would "tell him later," but then refused to tell him during the drive. Even from the way his father acted when he talked to them in the morning.

Russia knew that America was hiding something.

And he was determined to find out what.

For whatever reason, whenever he looked at America now, his heart fluttered briefly, before he pushed the feeling down. Just looking at America made him feel a flood of trust and familiarity. It felt like he was inhaling cold air, and it was overwhelming him to the point where it hurt to breathe. And yet, he yearned for that feeling. Russia felt regretful every time he pushed it down, even though he knew he shouldn't be feeling it. He wished he could stop it, but at the same time, he prayed it would continue.

It was all very new and strange to Russia—he hated it and he loved it. He couldn't quite decide.

And yet, he refused to believe this feeling was affection. America was his rival, and that was that. This so called, 'affection,' could never blossom into a friendship!

Although, one thing Russia failed to realize was that not all feelings of affection were platonic.

Some were romantic.

———

"Well, you were very quiet during the drive." America noted after they had gotten back.

"I was thinking." Russia said plainly, not wanting to give away too much. He was afraid that he might accidentally make America think that he was weird. He knew that if he told America what he felt every time he looked at him, America would take it the wrong way, and perhaps think he was weird.

Russia wasn't even sure about the point in time at which he actually started to care about what America thought of him. Although, he quickly brushed it off, not thinking much of it. It was just him wanting to protect his reputation, that was all. He didn't actually care... right?

Russia felt like stabbing something. Why did all of this have to be so complicated? None of these feelings were that intense the night before, so what had happened?

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