~ Powers of Nations: A Countryhumans Chronicle

▶Chapter:21◀

The chapter~~

I think y'all are gonna enjoy this :D

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3rd person pov: (cause i'm so lazy to write another character's pov XD)

The cell, once a stark place of isolation and despair, had become a sanctuary of unexpected warmth. Russia lay on his bed, still recovering from his illness thanks god for TR's medication. Yet, despite his lingering weakness, the atmosphere had shifted dramatically, thanks to TR’s newfound tenderness.

Tonight, TR entered with a small, worn music box. The iron door creaked open, and a soft, golden light from the hallway spilled into the room, casting a gentle glow. TR’s approach was noticeably different from the harshness Russia had grown accustomed to. His eyes reflected a rare softness, and he carried the music box with an air of care.

Russia lay beneath a rough blanket, his large, feathered wings drawn close to his body for warmth. The once vibrant plumage was now slightly ruffled and dull, a visible sign of his ongoing recovery.

“What’s this?” Russia asked, his voice hoarse from both fatigue and the remnants of his illness.

TR approached him with careful, deliberate steps, his demeanor a stark contrast to the harshness he had once displayed. He settled beside Russia, his presence radiating a gentle calm. “I brought you something,” TR said softly, placing the music box on a small table near the cot. “I thought it might bring you some comfort.”

Russia’s fingers trembled as he took the music box. The familiar texture of the wood beneath his touch stirred memories of better times. As he opened it, a soft, melodious tune began to play, filling the cell with a soothing sound. The melody wrapped around Russia like a warm embrace, easing the ache of his suffering. He closed his eyes, allowing the music to wash over him. Tears of relief and emotion welled up, but he quickly blinked them away, unwilling to appear vulnerable.

TR watched with a mixture of empathy and relief. He reached out, brushing a strand of hair from Russia’s forehead with a tenderness that spoke volumes. His touch was gentle, almost reverent. “I’m sorry for everything I’ve done,” TR said quietly. “I didn’t fully grasp the pain I caused. I can’t undo the past, but I want to make things right.”

Russia’s heart ached at TR’s words. The sincerity in TR’s voice was undeniable, but the scars of the past were not easily forgotten. “Why should I forgive you?” he asked, his voice trembling with hurt and confusion. “After everything…”

TR’s gaze remained steady, filled with regret and hope. “Because I’m trying to be better,” he said earnestly. “I want to show you that I care, even if I can’t change what’s happened.”

The sincerity in TR’s voice and the warmth of his touch began to erode Russia’s resistance. The man who had once been a source of pain now seemed genuinely remorseful. The struggle between lingering anger and the warmth of TR’s presence was evident in Russia’s eyes.

Slowly, Russia nodded. “I... I forgive you,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion.

TR’s face brightened with a mixture of relief and gratitude. Without hesitation, he leaned in and pressed his lips gently to Russia’s. The kiss was soft and tender, filled with unspoken promises of understanding and a new beginning.

At first, Russia’s reaction was one of shock. His instinct was to push TR away, a reflex born from past pain and betrayal. His hand moved to shove TR, but it hesitated mid-motion. The softness and sincerity in TR’s kiss made it difficult for him to follow through. The struggle between anger and longing was evident in his expression.