We were back in America's car. After the dinner, we chatted a bit with America about trivial matters such as professors we didn't like, and soon enough it was darkening and he offered to drive us back to campus. We agreed and he told his parents that he'd come with us. Waiting for him to collect his stuff was horrible, since the chill bit through my clothes, but at least I fared better than Germany. He was lightly running around the car, which reminded me of a funny thing my father used to do. He noticed me quietly laughing at him.
"What....is....Oof....so funny..." He gasped while running.
"You know, my father used to run like that in the cold when he drank. As his own punishment." I laughed. "He would run and keep repeating: надо меньше пить, надо меньше пить. And exactly like that."
Germany suppressed a grin with effort. "But I'm cold!"
"Wear warm clothes," I suggested, wrapping my scarf around my neck tighter. He came up and tugged my jacket off, wrapping it around himself. "Hey!" I protested. Underneath, I had next to nothing, a light long sleeve.
"I'm cold," he mumbled again. "And you seem okay anyway." The wind decided to pick up, spraying a light flurry of snow on me.
"Germany!" I yelled in frustration. He wrapped the jacket around himself tighter, but pressed against my side.
"I'm keeping you warm this way." He smiled under the hood.
"Excuse me, but I'm feeling no warmth whatsoever."
He hugged my waist. "How about now?"
"No. Germany, please can I have my jacket back?" I pleaded.
"America's here," he pointed out. The door creaked and America came out, hauling a large box of stuff with him. He smirked at both of us and I huffed angrily.
"Ready?" He unlocked his car and went in.
"Can you turn the heat up?" I asked, climbing into the car. "I'm freezing."
"Aren't you Russian?" America said in an annoying tone. "Don't you like the cold?"
"I don't. Just because I'm Russian, doesn't mean I have to like cold." I argued. "And liking and withstanding are two different things."
"Okay, okay Mr. Professor." America smiled. "Have you thought of a career in teaching?"
"No. But I have switched my major."
"To what?" He said, a little interested. He was turning though a bunch of radio stations, not waiting more than five seconds before switching them.
"Seriously? It seems radical to me, but you'll scoff."
"Naw, I won't...please?" He begged. "I'll turn the heat up."
"What an offer." I said dryly. "I'm thinking of nautical or naval engineering instead of pure mechanical." I heard his sigh soon after.
"Oh Russ," he shook his head. "Really? But whatever, I guess. Good for you."
"Will the heat come on now?" I asked. "Somebody stole my coat." Germany involuntarily giggled.
He nodded and turned the knob."Yes, yes," Soon, I could feel my fingers. Yay. Everything was fine till the point where America decided to turn on an American pop radio station and sing to it.
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One hour later, after being stuck in traffic, America finished singing. "Do you guys want another one?"
"NO." I said immediately. He laughed at my response.
"I'd rather not." Germany announced diplomatically. We were almost at the campus, and the ride took twice as long because of the evening traffic, which meant even more bad singing from America.
"Aw, come on guys!" He pretended to be hurt. "Be considerate. I want to be a singer."
I sucked my teeth. "Please,"
"Joking." He laughed. "You're way too serious Russ. One might say, aloof."
"I'm sorry. I don't know English as well as I thought." I looked out the window. The night dominated the skies now and painted the heavens black. Nightlife blossomed and flashy bars and casinos opened up to outshimmer each other, attracting customers. The campus stood apart from the glimmering city, along with the ancient statues and old parks and unlike the blinding colourful lights at the city centre, the campus shone with the light from one thousand old lanterns on posts. America parked neatly near the curb of the entrance. I had to admit, he drove very smoothly and calmly, unlike father, who would accelerate and push on the brakes in a matter of seconds. Let's not mention parking.
"Ta da! Welcome back to campus." He sang, turning off the car, which meant, the heat. I tugged the jacket off unsuspecting Germany and zipped it up before he could do anything.
"No more singing." I said rather gruffly. I felt jetlag coming in, and even though it was still about half to eight, I already felt my knees slightly buckling.
"But singing is so fuuuuuuuun!" He trilled.
"No." I shook my head stubbornly. I meant to say something else, but I was stuck on a word and kept silent. I only figured it out once it was too late. I figured my English became worse since the time I left.
"Fine," he said a little flatly, but regained his bouncy pace as we came into the campus. Without many people in it, the arrays of buildings looked like deserted well preserved gothic ruins. The mythical creatures stood still with their wicked and surprised expressions, and I though about how much time it would take to carve these out individually by hand. All those spires up on the top with granite faces and stony feeling etched into them, and nobody ever looked up to admire and just stare at them. I must've looked weird having my head tipped up because Germany immediately had to get my attention.
"What are you looking at?"
"The faces on the spires," I pointed up. His light amber eyes followed my finger to the top, but his expression was unreadable, but his stare was passive although searching.
"I've never noticed those before," he said softly. "They look...a little scary. Why would you have such angry and sorrowful looks etched into your walls forever."
"Oh, those are alumni," America cut in. "Those were their facial expressions when they first saw this place." Count on America to lighten things up. Germany made a face and looked at the spires no more.
"Seriously America?" I sighed. "Always have something to say."
"No kidding," he smiled. "But it's a school myth." He twirled his keys around his fingers until they fell onto the pavement with a clink. After two more rounds of that, he suddenly looked around, alert. "Oh, I missed my crossroad. Sorry guys, I go the other way. Anyway, sorry to leave you all early, but I have to go."
"That's okay," Germany nodded. "Thanks for letting us have dinner at your house."
"Yes, thank you." I parroted. He hugged us both and then left the way we came. Finally, we're alone. I could tell that Germany didn't like crowds either and was perfectly comfortable with only me as company. It was nice being preferred over somebody else. That rarely ever happened in my life. He nestled his little cold hand in mine and we walked very peacefully down the winding concrete path, the only whiteness being the winged beasts sitting on top of all the ledges, staring as we passed by. Our nice walk was ruined once again by my phone ring "Hmm, who's this?"
"Maybe your dad?" Germany suggested. I picked up.
"Hello?" I greeted.
"Good evening Russia." Came the serene voice of Dr. Austria. Oh, him again. I didn't expect him to call. "I hope you are doing well, yes?" Germany cocked his head and mouthed: "who's that?" at me.
"Yes, I am." I mouthed to Germany that it was his uncle. He seemed to understand.
"May I ask you to come by after tomorrow? I have something to show you." He said.
"I'm at campus right now." I mentally slapped myself for saying that. I kind of was falling over my feet.
"Oh, good! Maybe you could come by...right now?" He asked. "If it's not a problem." He added hurriedly. "I understand it might be too late..."
"No sir, it's fine. I can come." I faked a cheery voice.
That seemed to do the trick. "Good. It's nothing important really. Just mildly interesting."
"Should I come to your office?"
"Yes. I will wait for you there." He said. "Just knock on the door."
"Okay. Thank you." I didn't wait for a reply and hung up. Then I groaned loudly. By the looks of it, Germany probably heard the conversation, because he pressed himself into my side and rubbed my arm sympathetically.
"I can come with you." He offered. "Uncle knows who I am. So it won't be a problem." I nodded in response, and instead of turning right to our dormitories, we turned the other direction, to Dr. Austria's office. His light was on and in the distance I could see the bright lights of his bureau. We neared the contemporary single level small building and I knocked on the door. After a few seconds and a 'coming!' later, he appeared in a brown tweed jacket and white pants, dress only for fussy old rich people who play golf and shuffle papers.
"Hello Russia, sorry for calling at the late hour." He didn't notice Germany yet. "So nice to see you." He noticed. "Oh, and Germany too. Welcome back."
"Hello Uncle," Germany waved and slipped his hand a little too noticeably out of my grip. "I stayed with Russia during the break and....I thought maybe I could come as well....I won't bother anyone...." He kept on mumbling some sort of excuse, but I got the feeling that Dr. Austria understood. He led us in and quickly told his assistant something in German. I'm glad I could understand it all. He asked the young subordinate, who I found was his son to talk to Germany while he conversed with me. His son rolled his eyes and sighed loudly, keen on showing his disappointment towards his German speaking fellow. Dr. Austria put an arm around my shoulders, with some effort, and steered me gently towards his pink walled office. On the low coffee table was an expensive Italian watch catalogue along with a low brim cup with strong smelling tea. He sat down opposite of me on the couch and took out a black folder, rummaging through it.
"I found this in my attic. I do not know how it became there, but I have it, and I would like to Gove it to you." He produced a slim little paperback book. I instantly recognized the cyrillic characters on the front and felt drawn to read it. I could see that he wanted to know what was written inside, but couldn't translate the whole book word by word. I took the book out of his light grip and flipped though to the first page. Strange. The words were all handwritten and it took me exactly five seconds to recognize the script of my father. Each chapter was signed off, each time differently. Dr. Austria looked at me expectantly, as if I would translate the words in the book.
"Thank you. I will read through it later...if you would not mind." I saw a small flash of disappointment in his eyes, but then he nodded and smiled.
"I understand that. Absolutely fine with me." He suppressed a yawn. "Pardon. It's getting late."
"I'll be going now...I guess." I stood up and left the room, his eyes trained on me until I closed the door. Germany and Dr. Austria's son were waiting for me to finish.
"Everything alright?" Germany asked. "Switzerland told me it was something important." He looked desperate to leave.
"Done?" Switzerland said dryly. "I'm falling on my feet. And I had to come." He kept on grumbling. His dress was expensive, and he wore a crisp starch white dress shirt under a tan vest. What my father called a real spoiled child. He wasn't even eighteen yet. It was the same boy we met in that cafe with America about a month ago.
"We'll be going now," Germany took my hand and led me out of the office. Switzerland did not have a chance to reply when Germany closed the door. "I can't stand talking to him." Germany shook his head.
"Why not?"
"All he can talk about is what he has. And then asks me what I have. What can I say?" He sighed. "He's a little annoying and materialistic. Well, why am I surprised? Everyone is." He looked up at me. "Especially people who say they aren't. And I look around at other people, wishing I was that wealthy. Don't you? Don't you also think that sometimes all your problems can be fixed with money?"
"Sometimes. Not always though." I said, stopping. "I think that I can get creative when it come to that."
"Hmm, I thought you said that you need a degree and then that's it." He had doubt in his eyes.
I took both of his hands. "Listen. I can change as well, and I think I can't even recognize myself anymore. I've learned and grown so much. I realized that I can't always do things by myself. I realized that I don't have to push myself to do everything excellent. I realized that...I'm not immune to emotion either. No matter how much I try." He smiled as I finished and hugged me tightly. I did the same, and we stayed like that, in the moon washed courtyard with nobody except us. I felt that he started to sob into my jacket. "Germany...please don't cry." I whispered. But when he turned his head to me, his tear stained face was smiling.
"You don't know how I needed to hear that." He hugged me even tighter. "Thank you."
"Of course."
"I love you, Russia." He said.
I looked down at him and smiled. "I love you, Germany."
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Надо меньше пить - I need to drink less
Happy Women's Day!
I've realised in myself that I do not write on weekends, but plenty on weekdays.