Rusger Oneshots

When can we meet again? (part 2)

Requested by : @A-Boring-Potato12345

Hghhhhhh Hi everyone :D I am pleased to say I have survived my first week of school! Yayyyy *literally 30 seconds away from passing out from exhaustion and mental tiredness srsly the amount of homework i had, mind blowing*

So anyway, away from my personal life, a PART TWO!! I am amazed, that people even wanted me to write a part two for this! Thank you all so much for your support and everything ahhhhh XD

This was partly(80%) written by my sleep deprived brain so i'm sorry if it's not exactly what you expected idk it might be. I hope you all like it still!! :)))))))))

P.S: AHHHH 982 reads almost 1 k AHHHH WHAT DO I DO SHOULD I DO SOMETHING SPECIAL OMG OMG OMG *30 seconds up, passes out mid freakout*

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Russia stood in his large house, pocketing his phone and wallet and reaching for his keys. He was heading out to buy groceries, since his fridge was literally empty.

He hadn't eaten breakfast, because he just wasn't hungry. He woke up, and felt emptiness swallow his heart once again.

He literally just laid down on his queen sized bed, too large for merely one person, for most of the morning. He wasn't asleep, but his brain certainly felt like it, he couldn't feel anything. He laid there staring up at the white ceiling, with the pillow on the other side of the bed wrapped in one arm on his chest.

It was pressed on his face as well, covering his nose and mouth. When he took to breathing, he could painfully smell the sweet scent of beer, the slightly smoky ting of Wurst(1) , and just, everything to him.

His other hand was gripping the end of the big blanket, stretched out to where another person could sleep in. Russia gripping it tightly, and if afraid it would be gone too soon and leave him all alone again.

A few more hours later, he finally got up and reluctantly, made the bed. He fluffed his pillow, and just straighten out the blanket slightly. He never was one to make the bed anyway, but it was always kept neat and tidy before. He left the other pillow alone, carefully putting it back to its place next to his own.

After using the bathroom and taking a short shower, Russia slowly walked down the stairs, his feet making a hollow thump on the hardwood, echoing through the quiet house. Usually there would be a certain hum around the house, the whirl of the coffee machine, some laundry already tumbling around in the washing machine.

And sometimes, rare as it was, there was the soft singing of a smooth German voice accompanying the other sounds of breakfast. Russia would always be entranced by that lovely sound, it was smooth like silk and as sweet as honey. He would then, either lean against the  doorframe, and continue listening until the owner of that voice would notice his presence and start blushing and mumbling good morning. Or, just go up to that person, and wrap his arms around him lovingly from behind. It usually always stops the soft music immediately, but Russia was always one down for physical touch.

But all was quiet, the kitchen empty and rather bare. Russia walked to the coffee pot, and started brewing his coffee. It was then when he took out the milk that he noticed his fridge was very empty, with only one lonely bottle of vodka still sitting there along with the milk. Which when he sniffed it, it definitely wasn't very fresh.

He opened the door, after plopping his ushanka unceremoniously on his head. It was fall, and the last time he had seen him was summer, before he was called away. What would he think of the colder temperatures now?