(Russia x America) Parts 3 & 4

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I had left America alone for a while just to give him some space, but when I had come back he was still laying there curled up on the floor. It turns out he had actually fallen asleep. I couldn't believe he was still lying there, like a helpless child, but anyway I placed him to bed once more and went to sleep myself, but I had forgotten that America isn't always as dumb as he looks. He is the first country ever to learn all the languages in the world and speak them fluently and he did beat me to the moon, but I'm not going to go there. America found his own way to make words.

"*scribble* *scribble*"


It was about 4:00 AM when I had heard some strange scribbling sound throughout the house. I leaned up in my bed and pulled over the thick cover to switch on my nightstand lamp. I rubbed my eyes, fixed my sweater, and strolled into the living room.

Before I turned the lights on I followed the sound of the scribbling. Eventually I stood hovering over America and when I turned on the lights I saw him clutching a pen tightly in his right hand.


America was so surprised by my entrance that he fell out of the chair he was sitting in. It was kind of cute until I looked over at what he was doing. Scattered on my desk were pages and pages of hand written letters. I looked back at the frightened America with a dry expression.



I knelt down in front of him and as he tried to squirm away I held out my hand and said "America give me the pen".

Instead of handing me the pen he tightly clutched in his hands he trembled as he handed me a piece of paper he had shoved in his pocket. It was crumbled into a little ball so I unraveled it, and in really sloppy hand writing, it said "[Why?]"

"Haha... Why? Hahaha! You are so funny America!" I crumbled up the small paper as America looked up at me confused.


Eventually I stopped laughing and pulled America up by the neck of his jacket. I explained "Did you think I ripped out your throat all on a whim? No I did of specifically so you couldn't speak. I wanted to make damn sure that you could say a single word with that flapping tongue of yours. Now I won't ask again America give me the pen".

It was almost amusing. America trembled and looked as if he was about to burst into tears. He dropped the pen he held so tightly and I swiped it from the floor. I let go of his jacket and commanded him firmly "Now go back to bed".


America sluggishly slinked back onto the couch, curled up and went back to sleep. Although I on the other hand could not get back to sleep; I tossed, turned, and struggled to keep my body still and my eyes shut. My God? How does America fall asleep so fast without any trouble?

I reluctantly kicked off my covers and wandered into the kitchen to grab a mug of vodka. It's sweet with a sharp punch to enlighten your tongue. After some groaning and grogginess I became bored enough to take a glance at what America had so desperately tried to write.

Those scrambled papers were scattered across my desk and most of them were simple American phrases.

"[I'm hungry]"

"[This is lame]"

"[You're an ass!]"

"[I need a belt buckle]"? I couldn't quite understand that last one, but then the rest were letters to Japan, someone named Canada, and Britain. I at least decided to read Britain's.

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