COUNTRYHUMANS ONESHOTS | Completed ✔️

Midnight | Russia x America

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6. 6. insert year which is not another 6

russia pov 

a midnight snack.

the house is quiet, with only the muffled sound of the tv that illuminates the room; cold milk pours from a carton as i pick up one of the formerly warm, now a little cold cookies with chocolate chips scattered in it.

my hand dips the cookie into the milk, and as i try to take a bite of it i notice something in the corner of my eye.

i ignore it as my eyes focus on the tv screen which displays the news; after all, i've given up on watching horror movies. then i hear the sound of tape. and just to clarify, i live alone. 

slowly, i make my way to the sound, and why the fuck is it in the closet? 

imagine a horror movie; the disembodied sounds in the distance make way into your closet, and you wouldn't even want to know what kind of person was in your closet... well, if it was even human, that is. then you open the closet.

it's a guy.. it's a girl? you know what, i don't even know. if it's a little lass hanging out in my closet—honestly, that's just really slutty and creepy.

i turn on the light switch as, uh.. america scribbles something on a piece of paper, holding some washi tape, more specifically, kawaii anime decorated washi tape, which was very questionable.

this was reasonable enough, he'd broken into my house a few years ago for reasons—well, he remarked he was going to die, and turns out he just had a common cold. "...what the fuck." 

"oh, hi there. well, um, i was hoping, i'd hang out in here and wait till the sun rises, but, your urges for midnight snacks wakes you up instead." 

"okay..?" i almost trailed off. "i don't know why you want to stay here until it's dawn?" my sentence sounded more like a question.

america scribbled a few more things onto the paper while chattering. "like, also, if you decline this offer, i will still take you." i wasn't sure what 'offer' he was talking about, or him taking me, but oh boy, this doesn't sound good.

he dropped his pen when he began to very loudly apply washi tape on the paper. "yeah, i think i'm done, here." he unmanneringly threw the paper on my face as it started to descend like a feather, into my hand. 

i read what was written at the top. messy and terrible cursive, which i still remember. "'america 's.. things i want to do before i die: second version'. nope, you're not going to die, i'm going back to sleep. bye." i immediately turned away and walked to my bed, where i plopped down and pulled the covers on top of me.

"you haven't removed your shoes yet," i heard america get up from the closet. "also, i'm not going to die and i just want to do this and i'm still taking you with me." oh god. this, i don't like this. 

"you can do it tomorrow, and it's 1 am and i'm trying to get my sleep." i half-told the truth and half-complained as i irritatingly pulled back the covers.

he walked away from the room, which was a good sign. i slowly started to drift off to sleep, with the lights still on and my shoes still on me.

i slept for about.. thirty seconds, or something, when i was awoken to the obnoxious sound of america with something small and jingling in his hands. "hey, are these your car keys?" his penetrating voice caused me to get up.