You, Me, and your broken ankle (RusPol)

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Warning: This story will include nsfw content. If you're an minor and you know you're not allowed to read this kind of stuff, please click off now. Don't complain about this later, I gave a fair warning. Otherwise, have fun reading. :)

The little country, Poland, was laying in his bed. His eyes were red from crying, the kind that would make someone look like they had been punched. He was 17 now, but he yet looked younger; he had deep-set brown-yellowish eyes, which made him look less scary and more vulnerable.

He sighed as he thought back to what happened in school today and couldn't wait for summer to arrive so everyone would forget about it. He never told anyone, not even his father, but he had a friend at school who always picked on him – calling him names, taunting him, making fun of him, hitting him... Well, could he really call him a friend?

They'd only been friends because they shared the same class since kindergarten. His name was Russia. He was an intimidating-looking boy with dark green eyes and a face that always looked unreadable. He never said much, but whenever he did, you knew it wasn't good news. Plus he was quite tall for his age. Way taller than Poland.

Russia was the kid of Soviet, who was one of the teachers at the school. Soviet taught Russian and History and also lived with his multiple kids in the house next door to the school. They used to be nice people, but Russia got more and more aggressive towards Poland as time went by. It started out slow at first. He would call him names once in a while, or trip him when no one else was looking. But then it became worse; he would do things like kick him, steal his lunch money, or push him into the boys' toilet and lock him up there until someone came to get him. And all these things were happening regularly. There were no witnesses because everyone avoided him.

Poland started to hate Russia, no matter how much he tried to convince himself that they were still friends. He sighed as he thought about it and quickly hid under his blanket. Why did Russia start to bully him? Was it because of the way he acted around girls, maybe? Or was it simply because Russia had gotten older and wanted to be accepted by his peers? Either way, he didn't want to deal with this shit anymore!

With this thought in his mind he finally closed his eyes and fell asleep.

***

The door slammed open. Poland woke up with a sudden jerk but quickly remembered where he was. He sat up slowly as he heard footsteps approaching him. He pulled himself together and waited for the man to come closer.

His father entered the room with a grim expression on his face, which soon turned into anger. "Why are you still in bed? You should have been in school an hour ago! Were you up all night watching those weird cartoons again? What's wrong with you?"
"I'm sorry, I overslept."
"You almost oversleep every day, you lazy bum!"
He was about to say something more, but stopped as he saw Poland's sad expression. He sighed deeply. "Just get ready, I will drive you to school."

Poland nodded and got up to get dressed. As he walked down the stairs, he tried to think about anything other than Russia. As he stepped outside the house, his father was already waiting for him in the car. Poland gave him a quick wave before getting inside.
"By the way, are you okay?" asked his father. Poland smiled. "Yes, Dad. I'm fine." His father looked at him suspiciously as they drove off.

***

At school, Poland was walking through the corridors with a gloomy expression on his face. People kept their distance from him, none dared to approach him. He went pass a few classrooms and soon arrived at his own classroom. Poland opened the door with a sigh and walked into the room.

It was currently a short break, so all the students were out of their seats talking among themselves. But Poland sat down quietly in his chair, waiting for the bell to ring. He didn't even bother looking up when he noticed several girls staring at him. When he finally did look up, he saw Russia standing in front of him. He frowned as he felt the blood rush to his cheeks.