Met In The Snow-Countryhumans

Chapter 22

Britain's POV

Me and Soviet spent some time talking soundly to each other on the couch. It was definitely an enjoyable moment. Just talking; listening to the other.

"And it is snowing again." Soviet said, looking out the big window in the living room.

I look at the window as well and sure enough, the snow is slowly falling. It snows so much here.

Looking outside... makes me think. We've been at this cabin for a while now—just the cabin. I do wonder what's happening back at my so called home. Whichever direction that is.

"What are you thinking?" Soviet asks me.

I turn to face him. He looks curiously towards me.

"What 'home' is like." I say, deliberately changing my tone on the word home to show I don't really see it that way.

Home is somewhere you are meant to feel happy and at comfort. That's not how I felt at 'home' it felt barren with ghostly memories of the past emitting from the pictures hanging loosely on the walls. I didn't much care for the house, like I didn't much care for myself. It was dusty, but at least I had friendship with the spiders. Only friends I had at that point. Heh, what loneliness does to a person.

Soviet frowns and looks out the window seemingly contemplating something.

"We can always go and see." Soviet said.

The thought of that makes me extremely anxious, but I also do want to maybe just see. I want to know how... certain people are. Just... something.

"Don't be scared about. I'd be right there with you and there no pressure to go." Soviet says and holds my hand. "But I will need shopping every once in while." Soviet adds on.

I smile softly towards him. He's right, I shouldn't be scared. I can't let fear stop me from doing things, though that is easier said than done with the feeling always seeming to be so strong all the time.

"Why not do the shopping now then?" I say to Soviet.

"You sure?" Soviet asks.

"Mostly." I say unconvincingly.

"Ok then. Let's get the coats." Soviet says.

I thought we would just normally stand up and walk to the coat hanger by the door ourselves but Soviet picks me up bridal style as he stands.

"Soviet, what are you doing?" I ask him as he walks, gripping onto his shirt like other times.

"Unintentionally causing you to experience most likely embarrassing memories because I wanted carry you like this." Soviet says nonchalantly.

I will never quite understand how Soviet knows these big English words but occasionally forgets his connective words.

"Ah, well, that is exactly what is happening." I say, trying not to come off as too flustered.

I should get used to this way of carrying, but I probably never will.

Soviet puts me down on my feet as we reach the coat hanger and hands me the coat I've borrowed.