The Muses Peice | Rusame | Countryhumans AU

Evangeline

Third Person POV

The streets outside bustled with life, as midday crowds wandered in and out of shops, and the faint echo of city noise filled the air.

But inside the diner, everything seemed to slow down, like stepping into a time capsule of simpler days. The warm, amber light overhead bathed the wooden booths and chequered floors in a nostalgic glow. Faint old-school music hummed from the speakers, mingling with the murmur of soft conversation and the clinking of silverware.

The diner was the kind of place that had seen countless first dates, family dinners, and lazy afternoons spent over coffee and pie.

America grinned, tugging Russia by the hand, dragging him through the front door with an almost childlike eagerness.

Russia followed reluctantly, his mind still whirling from the whirlwind of emotions just moments ago. He could still feel a surreal weight on his chest that hadn't fully settled yet.

Just ten or so minutes ago, America had confessed his love, and now here they were, about to have what America had boldly declared their "first official date."

Is that what this was?

They stepped into the cosy diner, the scent of freshly brewed coffee and fried food hanging thick in the air. America found them a booth by the window, and without hesitation, he motioned for Russia to sit down.

Russia placed the bouquet of flowers America had given him gently on the seat beside him, still unsure of what to do with them. He looked across the table at America, who was bouncing with excitement, his eyes practically sparkling.

"What... what exactly am I supposed to do?" Russia asked, arching a brow as he settled into his seat.

America leaned back, hands behind his head in a casual gesture that was all too typical of him, a smug grin spreading across his face. "Just grab a menu and order something, duh," he teased, laughing. "It's a date! I'll pay for whatever you want. You're my guest!"

Russia blinked, his eyes scanning America's face with a mixture of bewilderment and amusement. "But that's ridiculous. You don't need to—"

America cut him off with a wave of his hand. "Nope! My treat. I'm not taking no for an answer."

Russia sighed, knowing from experience that there was no winning when America got like this. He could be annoyingly persistent, and it was easier to just give in. So, with a resigned sigh, Russia picked up the menu, his fingers tracing the edges of the laminated paper as he began to scan the list of food.

Across from him, America had already opened his own menu, but his eyes weren't really focused on the words.

Every few seconds, America would glance up at Russia, the corners of his lips twitching in barely contained amusement.

His foot tapped under the table, and it seemed like he could barely sit still. Russia, feeling the weight of America's gaze, finally looked up and met his eyes. "What's so funny?" Russia asked, narrowing his eyes in suspicion.

America immediately let out a small laugh, shaking his head. "Nothing, nothing. I just... I don't know. I'm just really happy today."

Russia raised an eyebrow but didn't press further. America's happiness was palpable, like a bright sun radiating warmth across the table. But Russia could sense there was more to it, something deeper behind that smile.

He knew America well enough to know when he was holding something back, and the way his cheeks flushed slightly and the way he kept biting his lip, told Russia that America's mind was still on the kiss.