Blue With White Stars | RusAme ✔️

Blue With White Stars-- Seven

'Depression? There's no way it can be that bad, right?'

America's mind questions itself while he stares at the Russian across the room.

He looks down at his table and tries to comprehend the real feelings Russia hides from everyone, including his own sisters that care for him.

Well, Belarus is more obsessed than caring and Ukraine's boss forbids her from seeing him.

Russia walks down the aisle more and stops at another shelf of books, leaving the sight of the American.

He pulls another book from the shelf and reads the title, in which the title says What is the True Meaning Of Happiness in Russian.

Completely unaware of the nation beside him, he turns the opposite way and begins walking down the aisle more.

"Russia, can you at least face me?" America asks, putting his hand on Russia's shoulder to stop him from walking away.

The Russian turns around slightly and sees the nation standing behind him with an expression of worry and anger at the same time. "I didn't know you were . . .Here."

Russia said to the American, earning a frown from him. "If that's the case, then I suppose I was wrong about you ignoring me... Not to mention you didn't tell me you had deep depression."

A few minutes of silence goes by and Russia sighs, "You got me . . .Good job America."

With that being said, America takes the books Russia had and puts them back on the shelf, soon grabbing Russia's hand and dragging him outside the library.

Once outside and away from the public, America stares into Russia's violet eyes.

"Why wouldn't you tell me something like this, do you know what the could've happened to you if this depression went to far?"

Russia looks to the side and stares blankly at the ground, not answering America's question.

It wasn't because of the aura that kept him from answering, it was the causes that made this depression escalate to the next level.

"Russia, please tell me. Depression isn't something you should keep in, you need to tell someone already." America tries to reassure the Russian, in which it finally works on him. "It's the causes that I don't want to share... Especially when your here."

America's heart drops, not knowing that the reasons were caused by him. "Tell me the reasons."

A moment of silence passes and Russia speaks in a soft tone. "The cut, my wrists, and the war; it all triggered the depression. Why else am I quiet and insecure about myself?"

The Americans heart splits in half and he forces himself to hold back the tears that he desperately wants to release.

"I'm sorry . . . I'm so sorry, I never knew that I caused this depression. I didn't know that I was hurting you this deeply, please forgive me for this."

"I'll forgive you when it's most necessary." Russia responds, earning a shocked expression from America.

He was confused at the answer he received, it didn't make very much sense.

Sure Russia meant something when he said necessary, but why not forgive him at this moment?

"I don't get it, what's your point of necessary?" America begged to know, not wanting to be left with the thought.

Russia smiles and faces the American, "I'll forgive you when it's necessary, it's simple."

With that response, America crosses his arms and grunts with an irritated tone mixed to it. "Would you forgive me if I invited you to tag along with me at the restaurant on the over side of this town?"

America suggests, determined to finish off the debt he promised himself he would do for Russia's current mental health.

"I shouldn't really come with-" America places a finger on Russia's mouth, stopping him from saying another word.

"To bad so sad, your not backing out on this one dude, you better tag along or else..." America pauses the sentence for Russia's mind to try and guess the consequences.

"Well, I can't think of anything right now, so just tag along and be happy about it."

"Or I could stay here, da?" Russia added to the suggestions, completely forgetting the "Or else" part of America's sentence. "Well now, we're Playing hard to get aren't we?" The American joked with the Russian nation. "Da, you'll have to drag me in order to get me to move." Russia implies, earning a smirk from America.

"Then that's what I'll do!" The American exclaimed, gripping Russia's hand and dragging him forcefully through the streets of Moscow. A bright cherry red blush spreads on Russia's cheeks just from America holding his hand. America grins, knowing that he caused the Russian nation to blush brightly.

"By the way, I don't speak Russian, so you'll have to order for us." America adds, making Russia laugh at the statement. "Hey, don't laugh! It's not my fault I wasn't taught other languages!" The American nation protests while Russia continues to chuckle at the lack of amusement coming from the America.

Meanwhile in the UK
* * * *

England taps America's number again and the phone dials once more. After a few seconds, it immediately goes to voicemail and England sighs; slowly becoming tired of constantly calling America. He had a feeling that Russia was hanging around with the American nation behind his back. Not only that, America is the type who holds sympathy for several people.

"Call me when you get a chance, also... Happy birthday America, enjoy your freedom once more... Enjoy it while it lasts." England said while the voicemail recorded his voice, he could already feel that sickening word "freedom" poison his body. 'During that in-necessary revolutionary war, it was disgraceful that America wanted to be independent. I should've pulled the trigger-' England freezes at what his mind said, recalling the horrible moment.

"I wouldn't do that! I'd never pull that trigger even if I wanted to. Besides, America's at fault for the break up." England protests against his own mind.

Just like Russia, the only sound is silence. Not just any kind of silence, it had the feeling of anger; but this one was pure jealousy.

* * * * *