-Russia POV-
Russia shivered next to his father, feeling the massive country's strength even not looking at him. Russia knew his father's gaze was following the American. Russia never understood his father's infatuation with hunting the small country, but he did what he was told. What he hated more than his father's obsession with America and not his own children was his alliance with Japanese Empire. She was obsessive, aggressive, and cruel. Russia knew Empire wanted nothing to do with his father, but Soviet was powerful. Much more powerful than herself. And she wanted revenge on America for what he did during the last world war.
He found it sickening. Empire had attempted murder on that country, and Soviet had allied with America. Why were the two enemies now trying to take the superpower down? America had a reason to attack Empire, and even had a rocky alliance with Soviet. Why did his father switch sides to the brutal and seductive queen? Russia looked down. He didn't really want to think about his fathers plans for tonight. But he didn't exactly have a choice, did he? Russia did not want his people to starve any more than they had.
Soviet nudged his son slightly, looking down to the vodka on the table. Russia sighed, standing and making his way to America's table. God Damn it Russia. He snarled to himself, his gaze darkening. Why are you such a child? He never did anything to you. America helped you. Russia shook his head. This wasn't about that. Soviet would kill him and his people if he didn't. Maybe even his siblings. His relationship with America was not worth that, and neither was his morality.
Russia reached the American's table. America looked up, raising an eyebrow and placing his beer on the table. The others there glanced back at them, Canada giving Russia death glares. The Russian didn't blame him. He was also protective of his siblings, and he also knew Canada would never forgive him for what he was about to do.
"Amerika, can I talk with you? Privately?" Russia said, his head screaming for him not to pull his roommate into this. Not like he had much choice, especially now. America glanced at his friends, then at Soviet's table behind him, and narrowed his eyes. Russia started to worry the American wouldn't join him.
"Eh, sure, why not," America finally said. He had seemed to lose his slight stutter from earlier, and was much more confident. Russia glanced at the beer on the table. Probably just that. America stood from his seat and Russia lead him outside into a side alley. He could tell the American was becoming nervous, so he stopped, not far from the entrance of the alley. Now he would think he could still run.
"So, what did you want to talk about, Rus? Need some friendly roommate help with something? You nervous about asking a girl out or something?" Damn it, Amerika, your making this harder than it needs to be. Russia sighed, and shook his head. He could see Soviet and Empire enter the alley behind him, but tried hard not to react. America didn't turn around.
"I just... wanted to say... I'm really sorry Amerika," Russia mumbled, clutching one hand with another. America looked at him, confused.
"Russia, man, why would you be sorry?" America responded, clearly concerned. Russia sighed and looked away as he heard a scream and loud thud behind him. The tall country grimaced. At least it wouldn't cause a concussion, as Empire had suggested. He looked back to see Soviet with America slung over his shoulder, unconscious. Empire was behind him, clearly pleased. Russia hissed under his breath as his father turned and headed to a car parked a bit away from the bar. Father is going to be mad you looked away and said you were sorry.
650 Words~