Chapter 7

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Russia looked at America, eyes intensely observing the american, calculating whether the striped country would remember or not what Russia was about to do.

After all, Russia has a high tolerance of liquor and alcohol, meaning that even if he was 'drunk as fuck' by the usual standards, he was quite accustomed to this, and eventually developed an ability to remember the events of when he was drunk.

If he had consumed the double of what was used during the game, he would have passed his tolerance limit.

But, back to the topic at hand;

Judging that it was quite unlikely that America would remember anything, Russia leaned forwards, scooting towards America, who noticed nothing. Russia sighed.

Russia then hugged America, his head settling on America's shoulder. After a few seconds, Russia pulled his head back, now facing America, their noses barely touching.

It's now or never.

Russia went forwards, and rapidly placed a small kiss on America's lips.

"Youu havve no idea forrr howw long I vanted to do vhat." Russia said, slurring a tiny bit, and accent making him much less comprehensible than usual.

Ok, so maybe he wasn't thinking all too straight. oh well. What difference does it do, anyways?

Not like his father could do much to protest, anyway. The guy was dead.

America began giggling. It started getting creepy, to like, horror movie level creepy. Suddenly, America pounced on Russia, and latched himself onto Russia, putting their cuffed hands in some pain.

America nuzzled his face into a surprised Russia's shoulder.

"Rrrruusssssiiiiiiaaaaa... I lovvvvve youuuuuu tooo..." America mumbled, still slurring his words.

At that Russia had a grin break out, and rather awkwardly got up, still carrying America, stumbled to the American's room, and finally tripping on a book America had left lying around on the floor of his room.

Russia hit his head, which most likely was what stunned him, making him to go limp, but make no mistake. Although Russia appeared to be asleep, he was awake, not asleep. America ended up in the same state of mind as Russia, and the two lay on the ground, giggling like idiots.

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Canada called multiple times, each time the phone going to a voice recorded message saying;

"Y'ello! Call back some other time, I'm currently doing something!"

Canada eventually called Mexico. Canada and Mexico used to be together, a long time ago, but the two eventually ended up not working out all too well. Luckily, they remained wonderful friends to this day, so oh well.

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"America? Hello?" Mexico called out from a window. He sighed, and put on an old, tattered, worn out glove, with which he used to open the front door.

Not locked.

Mexico wandered through the halls, calling out occasionally. Eventually, he made his way to America's room.

Opening the door, again with the glove, Mexico didn't see anybody. Not at first. Then, he looked at the ground, purely by accident, and saw it.

"iDios mio!" Mexico exclaimed.

(Spanish: My god!)

If I may remind you, he was one of the countries with a front row seat to the fight at the UN meeting, just a few days ago.

But after a third look, Mexico began laughing. I mean, you would too, if you saw one of the most intimidating countries ever (Russia), lying on America in a rather compromising position. Plus, the Russian was drooling. So was America, but Mexico knew, from all the parties America went too, that if America drank too much alcohol to the point of being in some sort of 'parallelization', he almost always drooled.

However, it was quite comical to see Russia on top of America, in the position and state of mind that they currently were in. So yeah, Mexico took a few photos, which he sent to Canada. Canada then sent it to Belarus, and the two had a good laugh at that, of course feeling much better that the two, America and Russia, weren't dead yet.

Honestly, many countries betting some money that the two opposing countries would have killed each other within the first day of being handcuffed together.

Mexico left quietly, closing the door, and left the house.

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