Too Cold To Be With You // Countryhumans RusAme

Chapter 2 - Your Cold Touch

Thick, dusty air surrounded the peaceful country as he organized some boxes on the bookshelf. His brother had asked him to do it while he went to the monthly country meeting. Usually, Canada would join too, but judging from the last couple of times he went, he realized that there wasn't much for him to do there.

Canada picked up one of the boxes sighed, "It's almost like it hasn't changed at all since we were kids."

He has always been the one to sit back while America went off to do something more exciting. As much as that used to bother him before, Canada didn't mind this peaceful life anymore. It was rewarding, actually, to not have to meddle in politics.

He picked up another box when a slip of paper fell from the top and onto his head. He grabbed it, realizing it was a photograph.

It was a picture of them as kids. America was holding England's hand, while Canada was holding France's. It was right before their separation too.

The Canadian bit his lip, putting the photo back on the shelf. Thinking about the past brought both pleasant and unpleasant memories for him. Most of the unpleasant ones were tied with America being hurt.

A sudden call from behind startled him as he balanced himself from falling.

"Hey Canada!"

"Ukraine!" Canada said, wide-eyed, "What are you doing here?"

She put one hand on her hip and pulled out some paperwork from the other. "I had to drop off some documents. It's nice to see you helping out your brother." She examined the closet, which was still a mess.

"It's a lot more handiwork than you might think. He's never here to do anything himself, so I'm usually filling in for him when it comes to his dirty work," he sighed.

Ukraine nodded as if she had experienced the same treatment herself. "Do you need some help?" she offered.

"I wouldn't mind an extra hand."

It got quiet pretty quickly as Canada tried to think of something to talk about.

"How are things with Russia?" he asked. Ukraine dropped the box she was holding.

"Uh, sorry. Maybe I shouldn't—"

Ukraine waved her hands. "Oh no, it's fine, I'm just surprised that you asked." Canada looked a little relieved. He didn't want stress out the poor small country.

Ukraine sighed hopelessly, "I never really see him. Not after the separation. And he's still living with that jerk so it's not like I can visit him." She said the last bit with anger underlying her voice.

Canada looked down, regretting his decision for asking. "Sorry."

"You don't have to apologise."

"Sorry. I mean, sorry, uh it's a habit" he scratched the back of his head, nervously smiling.

She couldn't help but chuckle a bit. "So, what about you? How are things with you and America?" she asked.

"Well, other than his constant dissapereance, I'd say it's going pretty well. Can't say I'm not worried about his crazy president though."

"Like any brother should be."

"Yes, but still. I wish I could be more help to him." He gazed up at the small window in thought, noting how beautifully the sunlight seeped through. Then, he looked back at Ukraine. "I'm kinda just there, you know?"

"I understand what you mean, Canada, I really do. However, I think your safety and well-being is really all America wants from you," she said in a gentle voice.

Canada couldn't help blushing a little from Ukraine's kindness. "We should really hang out more Ukraine."

"I'd love that. Next time, I'll make sure to bring some блины (Russian crepes) to share. I know you like pancakes."

"Then I'll bring the maple syrup." She smiled in response, her beauty radiating from the inside.

Ukraine and I really get along, Canada thought to himself. He wondered why they haven't hung out like this before. They were so similar, after all.

He looked at her as she pushed herself to put all the boxes in the right order. She was such a hard worker too. Then, he remembered. Ukraine was a captive of USSR not too long ago, right? It must have been tough during those times. Canada couldn't imagine going through that on his own.

"Is something wrong, Canada?"

"No, it's nothing," Canada reassured, "Thanks again for your help Ukraine."

...

Lukewarm water rushed down the drain as the Russian pressed his arm up against the cool touch of the water. He didn't sleep at all last night and had only just woken up from a two hour nap.

"This is such a pain, I swear..." He ripped a piece of a rolled up bandage using his teeth and wrapped it around his right arm.

"I hope no one notices it," he mumbled, leaning against the wall. A flood of thoughts clouded his mind, when he suddenly remembered something. "Wasn't there supposed to be a meeting today?" The thought of him forgetting about it was irritating.

"Ughhhh," he groaned, slapping his forehead. Russia then quickly shut off the water faucet and hurried to get dressed.

Taking a few short bus stops, he walked up to the building. He got a few stares here and there but he was pretty much used to it because of his "unusual" height.

As he walked in, countries flung themselves at each other, arguing like usual. He couldn't find the energy to do it himself so, instead, he scanned the room for America. He spotted him talking to Nigeria and without realizing it, eavesdropped on their conversation over some oil issue. He couldn't really make out the details of what they were talking about, but it was enough to keep him entertained.

America soon noticed it, and the Russian quickly looked away. He turned back to see America walking towards his direction and tensed up.

Damnit, he thought, not now...

"Russia?"

He picked his head up. America quickly noted his huge eye bags from a lack of sleep. "H-Huh, yeah? Hi America."

"You showed up late." The American wore his usual sunglasses but the Russian could tell he looked a little worried.

"Yeah, I overslept," he lied

America crossed his arms. He clearly didn't believe him. "You never oversleep. You're too punctual for that, like every other european here."

Russia furrowed his brows in annoyance. "Well, I did this time. Geez, what's your problem anyways? Just leave me alone."

America glanced to Russia's right side and almost touched his arm before the Russian pushed him away vigorously.

"What happened?" America asked, while examining his bandages.

"Nothing. Stay away from me." Russia felt the cold rise up again and shuddered. America stepped back.

"Russia," he said.

"W-What?" The Russian answered, curling himself up from the cold.

"You're not doing anything reckless, are you?"

"That's a rich question, coming from you." Russia snarked, trying to change the topic.

"Is it because of—"

"Seriously America, leave me alone," Russia said in a more serious tone, " I'll freeze to death with you around me," he explained, feeling the cold strengthen the more he became attached to the American.

The meeting felt like an eternity, and oddly enough, Russia looked more upset at the fact that he had to go home than him being there. America scrutinized the situation. There was definitely something wrong and he was going to get to the bottom of it, one way or another.