Freedom Burns

night 5

poland's pov

"wheeee~~" i kicked off my desk, spinning myself to the wall. "wheeeeeeeee~~" aaaaaand repeat. "you are about as boring as a biscuit with nothing on it." i rolled my eyes at him. "wow. ok. rude." america smirked, but then raised an eyebrow. "you seem happier today. are you on drugs? is that allowed? or did you get your lonely ass up and make a friend? probably not the latter." i faked a dramatically offended face at him. "i, in fact, did make a friend." i retorted, putting my arms behind my head. "you remember me telling you about kazakhstan, right? we hung out today. he's really funny. and sweet. and cute. and-" america grinned. "oh, that's why you're so light on your feet. you like him, huh?" my face flushed. "the hell? i met him, like, yesterday! though, it does feel nice to be able to comfort someone, especially an attractive person.." to my surprise, he didn't make fun of me. "comfort?" he inquired. ah, right. "he was venting to me about how his family life has fallen apart. though, he seems to be handling it better than the average person would.." i mumbled, chewing on the inside of my cheek. "ah, russia told me about that. they've never really had... well, none of them exactly had a safe place to come home too, and none of them have the same mother." he's being vague- oh. it dawned on me. "shit." i slammed my head on my desk, ignoring the repressed laughter above me. "i'm pining after someone who doesn't even realize that their dad was abusive. fuck, fuck, fuck-" america's gaze softened. "you should probably tell him about that. ease into the idea, though. he's not going to take it well bluntly. i learned that the hard way.." he muttered the last part, barely loud enough for me to hear. "what do you mean?" he sighed, climbing down to sit on my desk. "you sure do like story time lately.."

"after france suggested their.. 'game,' russia was the first one to hop onto it since he was taught growing up violence and purposefully hurting others was a common way people release anger and is perfectly ok. that was another thing that convinced me to push the idea onto the other two, since russia means a lot to me.."

i raised an eyebrow. "you had to convince france?" he perked up an eyebrow. "oh, did i not mention that? they realized the insanity of it soon after and kind of stopped pushing it for a bit. after china could tell there was no changing their mind, she accepted it, too."

"russia.. he didn't realize a lot of things were bad. he didn't need to directly tell me that he had a bad home life, i could already tell by some of the habits he had picked up. he told me afterwards that he never realized that his father was as bad as he was, even though his sisters always suggested it. which was why he and kazakhstan were the favorites, i think. they genuinely loved their father and didn't see anything wrong with his actions."

america's eyes widened. "shit. it's not my place to tell you any of this." he sat up. "sorry. i said too much. uhm- bye." i checked the clock. it was about time for him to leave anyway but.. ... he's right. he wasn't thinking, it wasn't his place to tell me. i should leave..

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sorry this is so short! this is important to the plot but i couldn't seem to make it as long as i would've wanted. oh well, beggars can't be choosers. hope you enjoy the ~~abusive ussr~~ headcanon.

i think crying is kind of neat,
-aut

578 words