Writing had always been a hobby of Russia's, it was mostly just little notes on his day paired with some art he drew. Then a gardener he only ever saw at night showed up. They never saw him, but they were so quiet and gentle with the flowers. Eventu...
Russia yawned a bit and looked at the time, finding it was actually very early right now. He stretched and got up, going to get dressed.
Today he had a fencing class, so he needed to wear something that'd give him range of movement. So he went for some more loosely fitting clothes.
So he ended up in a looser long sleeve shirt that was sky blue, and a pair of black pants. He then left his room, and waited around until breakfast started.
It was quiet as usual, and no one really spoke.
After that, he decided to take the longer way to his class, passing by the Chamomile flowers. He noticed something under the flowers and got excited, running over. He picked up an envelope and read the names on it. He smiled to himself once he read "From Aku, to Nyx" on the back. He held it close to his chest and started running the rest of the way to his class.
Once he was in the building, he started walking normally, a smile on his face. He couldn't help it, finding himself excited to get somewhere where he could read it.
Sadly, class started before he could even open the envelope, so he just did his best to pay attention. Thankfully his first class wasn't fencing, but that didn't make it any easier to focus. It was his literature class, and he wished he could just read the letter from America instead.
He'd live though, He'd be reading it the moment the class was over.
The class felt like it stretched on forever, it was one of his favorite classes but it was currently the bane of his existence.
Eventually, the class finished and Russia happily got up, running out and back to the main castle. He only had three classes today, he'd be able to read the letter and at least start writing his response before his next class.
Once he got to his room, he sat at the desk and excitedly opened the letter, careful not to damage the letter or envelope.
Dear Nyx, I would not ignore a letter directed at me! Also, you calling me "Night Gardener" was adorable. Seeing as letters are more comfortable for you, I'm happy to continue writing! Whatever makes you comfortable. If you don't feel comfortable with sharing your name, then that's fine with me. Tell me when you are ready! As for the potion that takes away the need for sleep, I'll ask! I could probably put some in a vial. I'll leave it with one of the letters. I however, would suggest getting yourself a proper sleep schedule so that you have an ingrained sleep schedule. It helps make sure that you wake up at necessary times. But if you have that, you're golden! Also, I'm flattered that you think I look nice! I wish I knew what you look like, but I'm sure you look great! Also, you'd be right to guess that me in work hours doesn't react how I would outside of them. I'm a "disaster gay" according to my brother. He swears up and down that if someone who is my type were to even flirt with me in jest, that I'd die. He's right, and I hate it. As for what I think of Prince Russia, I personally really like him! He hung out in my office the other day. I'd let him do so more often. I like his company, and he has a nice fashion sense. A̶l̶s̶o̶,̶ ̶i̶f̶ ̶y̶o̶u̶ ̶a̶r̶e̶ ̶a̶t̶ ̶a̶l̶l̶ ̶i̶n̶ ̶c̶o̶n̶t̶a̶c̶t̶ ̶w̶i̶t̶h̶ ̶h̶i̶m̶,̶ ̶d̶o̶n̶'̶t̶ ̶t̶e̶l̶l̶ ̶h̶i̶m̶ ̶I̶ ̶f̶i̶n̶d̶ ̶h̶i̶m̶ ̶a̶t̶t̶r̶a̶c̶t̶i̶v̶e̶.̶ ̶ S̶o̶v̶i̶e̶t̶,̶ ̶m̶y̶ ̶b̶o̶s̶s̶,̶ ̶a̶l̶r̶e̶a̶d̶y̶ ̶t̶e̶a̶s̶e̶s̶ ̶m̶e̶ ̶e̶n̶o̶u̶g̶h̶ ̶f̶o̶r̶ ̶i̶t̶.̶ ̶H̶e̶ ̶h̶a̶s̶ ̶t̶o̶ ̶t̶e̶a̶s̶e̶ ̶m̶e̶ ̶f̶o̶r̶ ̶i̶t̶ ̶a̶t̶ ̶l̶e̶a̶s̶t̶ ̶o̶n̶c̶e̶ ̶b̶e̶f̶o̶r̶e̶ ̶h̶e̶ ̶l̶e̶a̶v̶e̶s̶ ̶m̶y̶ ̶o̶f̶f̶i̶c̶e̶,̶ ̶i̶t̶'̶s̶ ̶l̶i̶k̶e̶ ̶h̶e̶ ̶h̶a̶s̶ ̶a̶ ̶q̶u̶o̶t̶a̶ ̶f̶o̶r̶ ̶i̶t̶.̶ Soviet does not let me call him King, and I still don't know why. If I ask, he says "You know why", and I don't. If it's about me saving his life, then I slightly understand. Not fully, but I understand a little more. Also, I know Argentina because she's my friend's sister. And my friend, Mexico, agrees with you. He's glad I finally defended myself and he's since told me I should have done more. None of your guesses are correct on what I am, but I would like to implore you to keep guessing. Please don't accidentally kill me when we meet up. I'd very much like to not collapse into a pile of extremely flustered person. As for the camera, I have an extra! I could leave it with my next letter. I'll give you a picture of Bean, he's a color point, and a ragdoll Siamese mix.
Sincerely, Aku
A little piece of paper fell out of the envelope with the letter.
He read what it said on it and chuckled. It said: This is Bean, he is a bastard. A lovable bastard, but a bastard nonetheless!
He flipped it over and found a color point cat with short hair and long hair. The cat had blue eyes and was walking down some stairs, staring at a red dot on the wall. He assumed that America had taken the picture, as he'd mentioned liking taking pictures.
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He then went back to re-reading the letter, wanting to properly read what America had struck through with his pen.
Eventually he just sighed and started writing a response. He'd probably have a bit more later.
He couldn't finish his response, he had to know what it said, so he just kept trying.
He eventually deciphered it and flustered, knowing America found him attractive was nice. But oh dear God was it something that made his thoughts race. He found himself wondering if America ever had thoughts similar to the ones he'd had. He hoped that he might have.
He'd tease America a little about it, but he had no room to talk especially considering his recent thoughts. He quickly wrote down what America had stricken through so he could see what it was without hassle. He didn't do that on the page he was using for his response, he used a different sheet of paper.
He checked the time, seeing he had another hour before he needed to get to his next class. He decided he'd use that time to finish writing his response letter.
He happily continued writing. He wrote in another guess, and one he would've guessed it wasn't something that'd have America disregarding any of his own medical advice.
He finished up his response and got out an envelope, writing on the back: "From Nyx, to Aku". And waited for the ink on both to dry.
He then searched around, quickly finding the camera his dad had let him borrow. He found Anatoly, his little void, and snapped a picture of him, sitting on a pink blanket.
He smiled a little and slipped the picture into the envelope with the letter once it was done. He hoped America liked his cat.
