Rusame Oneshots :|: DISCONTINUED

♦️Mystery Friends | Mabel-Like!America x Dipper-Like!Russia♦️

The room had a slanted ceiling and a strangely triangular shaped window. On each side of the room was a bed and on the hardwood floor was a scratchy and dusty circular rug that barely took up more than a metre squared.

While Russia furrowed his brow in distaste at the state of the bedroom, America was already bouncing on his bed to figure out its specific place on his infamous jump-o-meter, squealing happily whenever he managed to touch the fairly low roof. Spain pushed Russia further into the room, along with the boys' luggage and smiled in an almost condescending way.

"You kids have fun and try not to break anything – I've already had to smuggle supplies from the hardware store because Mexico decided crashing the golf cart into the shack was a good idea."

"Wait, you're just gonna leave us – "

Spain was gone before Russia could even finish his sentence.

"C'mon, adidas!" America chimed cheerfully, already adorning his side of the room with pictures of fond memories and the posters of boy bands he had brought with him. He grabbed some streamers that he had somehow stuffed in his various suitcases and flung them at Russia.

"Let's get decorating!!"

▪▪¤▪▪

"YAAAAAAAAY! GRAAAAAAAAASSS!"

Russia shook his head as America rolled past him down the hill, getting pieces of dead grass stuck in his hair, clothes and everything else. He jumped up with a huge grin, shaking like a dog trying to get off water and dashing back up the hill to do it all again.

"Ya gonna do some rollin' with me?" America called to Russia, who was busy scribbling in the crappy notebook he got for like two bucks at a gas station.

"No, you keep having fun," he chuckled, rolling his eyes and jumping out of the way when America cannonballed down the hill again, screaming like a madman.

Russia stared at the forest around him, enjoying the soft breeze against his face as the long, bright green grass tickled his ankles. They had only been in Gravity falls for a few days and the town had already managed to put him on edge – nog that that was a particularly hard task. Just the other day his mosquito bites had spelt out "BEWARE"!

Well, "BEWARB" but still.

Walking forward into the thicker part of the forest and brushing his red hand against the rough bark of the redwoods, Russia listened to the birds chirping around him. Maybe America was right – he should just relax and appreciate the world around him once in a while. In all honesty, he was kind of jealous of his best friend. America was always so chipper and bubbly, able to make anyone's day in a heartbeat, while Russia was just an anxious, sweaty weirdo.

Russia sighed as he fell against a tree, jumping in fright when the trunk behind him bellowed a low clanging noise, as if the tree was some sort of hollowed out metal structure. He knocked, on the trunk, eyes widening in surprise when the same sound echoed throughout the tree. Hands gliding over the smoother bark, Russia dug his nails into a crease between the pieces of bark on the tree, ripping open the trunk and watching it swing open, creaking on its unoiled hinge. Inside the redwood was some sort of metal box with switches and levers, covered in dust and spiderwebs.

Frowning, Russia flicked some of the switches back and forth, tensing when a low mechanical screech sounded behind him. He swiveled around and gaped as he watched the grass floor just in front of him slowly stir and shuffle to the right to reveal a secret compartment. Inside the small chamber was a leather-bound book obscured with a thick layer of dust. Russia timidly reached out a red hand and brushed away some of the dust, coughing slightly from the particles that danced into the air and tickled his nose and lungs. He glided his fingers over the cover, admiring how the golden six-fingered hand on the book shimmered in the mid-morning sunlight.