NOTE: Currently switching his book from 1st POV to 3rd POV. There'll definitely be some inconsistencies, especially as half of the chapter are edited and the other half not (essentially being my old writing style from late 2020 - early 2021).
The Fi...
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❝ those who make peaceful revolution impossible will make violent revolution inevitable. ❞
Chapter 23 - And They Showered In the Same Stall (at Separate Times)
Monday, Night - Midnight
Russia
"Soo, off topic, but, I'm getting the top bunk right?" I could only sigh. If I was any shorter, maybe I would've fought for the the top bunk, but there really was no reason for me to. Yeah, being a fucking tree was nice, but you wouldn't believe how many things I run into and smacked my forehead on. It took years for me to get used to my size and not bump into pizdec (roughly means bullshit) all the time. Sleeping on the top bunk on a bunkbed was a death wish.
"Da, absolutely," I stated. "Aww you're so sweet-" Immediately I smacked him across the back of his head. "I deserve that," he groaned, clutching his head. Though I wouldn't tell, I had a feeling I hit him too hard. "...Are you okay?" "Yeah it's okay, don't worry about it." He gave me a thumbs up, reassuring me he was okay. "Davai. (sort of a cheer, used as 'good' here) I will go deal with the room, you can take a shower." "I don't have clothes though??" "There's a closet with some clothes in a room across the hall, just take a towel with you or something debil. (idiot)" He nodded and slipped into the bathroom, and I went to work cleaning up the bedroom.
To say it was in poor shape was an understatement.
America
To be fully honest, I was glad I wouldn't have to be shirtless in front of him, or anything similar. Not even because of embarrassment, I was pretty proud of my physique, but because of the bruises. It's not like they would just suddenly go away after all, and covering ten-or-so bruises wouldn't be easy without just being fully dressed. I did feel bad for borrowing his clothes though, this being the second time now. Third, if you count the jacket. Actually, I hadn't even returned the jacket yet, had I? I basically owed him three pieces of clothing, not including the clothes I would have to borrow this time. It wasn't too bad, I would at least return the clothes I was wearing now, but the jacket was another issue. I would have to leave that for later, if I remembered that is.
To be honest, it felt really awkward showering in there. It was already weird enough not showering in your own bathroom, similar to like a hotel, but then imagine it's your friend's house — well cabin — and they just showered in it. That's how I felt, just extremely awkward. A good similar example, although not the same, was using the urinal right next to another guy. Just real fucking awkward for both parties involved. (NOTE I HAVE NO EXPERIENCE OF THIS HELLO HI *SHAKES*)
As soon as I finished, I wrapped a towel around myself and dashed into the other room. Russia wasn't wrong when he said the other room had clothes, but I wasn't expecting literally only that. As in the room was completely empty excluding the wardrobe and closet in the corner. Scanning through the clothes available, I grabbed a light grey tank top and black adidas shorts. It seemed that no matter where I was, their family had adidas. I could say they had an issue, but to be fair I was about the same with McDonald's. Surprisingly enough, the clothes fit me, most likely something from when Russia was younger. It's not like I could lie to myself, his clothes were most likely ten sizes bigger than mine. If I wore large size clothes, then he must've worn extra-extra-large size clothes.
Russia
As America took his time showering and changing, I spent my free time bandaging myself up and taking a few painkillers. The wounds from the curse were like hiccups, they weren't consistent but they came every once in a while. Though, instead of just being annoying, they also actually bled. I had learnt the hard way that they still got infected like real wounds though, and now I consistently cleaned them. It was the same for the cuts on my arms, though I was much more tentative with those as they stung like hell when applying rubbing alcohol compared to the relatively numb 'finch' wounds. An of course, painkillers, for my common bruises, self inflicted or not. Easily bruising was an annoying side effect of the curse, and it's not like the bruises on my knuckles from punching the wall had gone away either. (wtf why do they both have bruises hello???)
"Hey Rus-" I turned around to see America in the doorway, staring at me changing my bandages. He looked down at my torso to see blood soaked bandages, then looked at my arms to see more blood soaked bandages, then saw my also bandaged — although not quite as bloody — knuckles, and then the painkillers on the table. We sat there in silence for a moment, both completely stunned by what just happened.
"I'm sorry, but who the fuck just beat this shit out of you while I was in the shower?" Though I wanted to break out in laughter, I could really only sigh, unable to find a good way to explain the situation. "Before you freak out, it's called 'The Finch Curse is a Fucking Asshole to Me', and the knuckles are from when you walked in on me beating the fuck out of the wall." I left out the bandages on my arms, them not needing an explanation. "Why am I not surprised, as if trauma wasn't enough to be a living hell, we have this bullshit." "My god, please, it is dangerous to be that relatable." "Jus' spittin' fax." "You are and I hate it." "Aw, thank you! I try very hard to be relatable."
After we bickered for a bit longer, I finally managed to clean myself up and put a shirt back on. (look- LOOK- it's p hard to bandage ur torso while using ur other hand to hold up a t-shirt ok, again I'm not speaking from experience but still- I'm not trying to make u think abt Russia's abs ok it just keeps happening) "Round two of me seeing your abs?" "Da, sure, whatever. Just help me clean up the room please." As I put the medical supplies away, I could hear him shuffling things around in the room, although it definitely seemed like progress wasn't being made. "DO you need my help?" He sighed and dropped something on the ground. "Yeah, please." I walked back into the room and scanned the mess.
"Davai, let's get to work, shall we?"
ʚ ɞ
fuck the july 4th episode, its 1,500 words long and i havent even written the birthday party or the fireworks pls (im still doing it but man please help /hj 🙏) anyways its coming l8er when i find the time to finish it (i swear its gonna be like 5,000 words help)
its still fucking monday (in the story) please help istg why does a day have 24 hours its not helping that i keep forgetting things like russia being bruised asf and having his scars just bleeding, i shoudlve included that in the chapter he was shirtless but oopsies, too late
imagine going back in the previous chapters again and changing people's trauma n overall grammar bc I keep finding mistakes and then also going back to check if russia talked abt his trauma fuck that's a lot of trauma
imagine using ur own trauma to write the characters' trauma i mean haha what
