Love Doesn't Have Words [SLOW UPDATES]

-Mythology Class-

Hello! I'm so sorry this took so long. In my last update I said I was going to have slow updates because I've kind of fell out of the CH fandom, but I will still try and make this! I want to keep you guys happy, so here's a chapter that took me forever to edit lol. Hope you enjoy, and for the next chapter you hopefully won't have to wait as long :)

If you heeded my trigger warning and didn't read the last chapter, here's a recap: Russia is distraught over the hang out's failure, and when he goes to sleep he has a nightmare about the incident, how he lost his voice. After he wakes up he has an awful panic attack and passes out.

You may now proceed!
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He really did it this time. He really gone and did it. I thought he'd changed, but turns out he didn't! He's the same bad kid he used to be, just with a fancier mask. One good enough to fool us all, but I've finally seen through it. I've finally cleared the wool from my eyes.

There's no way this was a coincidence, it has to be his fault. Just after Russia went out with America, he's suddenly found passed out, just as cold as the tile he's laid on, and getting sent to the hospital in an unknown condition. Thanks a fucking lot, America!

It isn't like me to be this mad, but I can't help it. When my brother is in danger, the chill Ukraine turns angry. Rage is such an easy thing to fall afflicted to and oh so hard to brush off. I know his stupid face would just go "ooh, sis snapped" if he heard my thoughts.

Well he's about to.

Me and Belarus were almost late to school, we didn't want to just carry on and go to school as Russia went back to the hospital, but our dad said the doctors and him would handle everything and we needed our education. I think my brother's  health is a little more important than learning about physics and numbers, but me and my sister went to school anyways.

During the way there, we were quiet again. Usually we're quiet with Russia because it's a comfortable silence, but without him we don't make a sound, a solemn and knowing silence. Even if he's mute, he's like the melody in our song. Now we're just a sad, boring, and lonely bass line.

I get my stuff and slowly head to my class, my body moving without my mind. I could focus my eyes on anything, I wasn't focusing on my sight. I wasn't focusing on my thoughts either, my mind was static. I couldn't decide between having a blank mind or screaming thoughts. Whatever it was, I wasn't feeling good. Is this what Russia goes through?

Before I knew it I was turning in to U.N.'s classroom and crashing into my desk. I tried to look calmer and like I usually was, but that sight of Russia passed out on the bathroom floor was too much. The image is still burned in my retinas, and my eyes still unfocus to the point to where I can't read the board. Japan eventually noticed.

"Is there something wrong with Ukrania?" she asked, tilting her head and putting a finger to her cheek as if she was a cartoon character. I didn't want to focus on her either.

I mumbled something incoherent even to myself. I'm not used to talking anymore. I don't want to talk right now.

"Let's leave him be, Japan," Canada said from next to her. He gave me big sentimental eyes. Has he dealt with this before? This kind of panicked space out? Or since it's more than a space out it's called dissociation? Would my thoughts stop going so fast? Jeez, I'm a burden.

Once the teacher took to the front and began class, it took all my strength to pay attention to the bare minimum of what I needed to hear in class before moving to the next one. Today was going to be a very long day.

Next I had an elective, reading and writing, which I mostly used to chill out to the soft music playing. Today I couldn't calm down. I could barley hear the soft music, that's how loud my thoughts were. I just wanted to get to Russia's side. I want to see him smiling and well again. I want his little drama with America to have never happened. I wish he'd just never gone back to school. Or that America never lived here.

The bell rung before I could process that too much time had passed. I quickly backed my things and left. Oh, this was going to be fun. Next class I had was mythology. America was also in that class.

After exchanging some books in my locker, I make it there. I sit down, keeping my head low, trying to quiet down my thoughts. All my instincts were yelling at me to do something, something, to America once he walks in. Then, speak of the literal devil, the red-striped boy walks in. Every nerve in my body screams at me to punch his smug face right in the sunglasses. I don't, but I really want to.

He doesn't know. Of course he doesn't know, no one but me and Belarus know and I doubt the two have classes together or that they talk to each other often. Belarus probably isn't as mad as I am about all this. Who know, all I know is that something will happen to a certain patriotic country if I don't calm down. How I long for that calming music.

The teacher begins to speak. America has sat down and is half paying attention for eh teacher and half going through his notes. Did the teacher say to get something? Oh yeah, we had homework last night. I fumble for that, not wanting to take my eyes off the target but I must.

I then hear something about a group discussion over our work. Groups, you say? Of our own choice? How the gods have worked in my favor. All of them must have worked together to give me this perfect opportunity.

Once the teacher is done giving directions, I stand and wave to the sunglasses clad boy. "Hey, America! Wanna be partners?"

Everyone knows you can't just say no to someone when they ask to be partners in class. So America puts on a fake smile with a "sure" and heads over to me. I push myself a bit further into the corner so I can speak to him properly, because I have a lot to say to him.

He begins to explain his answers but I cut him off.

"Do you know where Russia is?" I ask him.

He seems thrown off. "Um, no? He wasn't in math right before this, so I don't know. Why're you asking?"

I look away from him. He's genuinely confused he doesn't know. I say as casually as I can muster, "he's in the hospital."

"No way, what?! Why?" America asks in sudden outburst. Why does he care? This is his fault, after all, is it not? Then why does he sound genuinely concerned?

I look back to his eyes and I see his shoulders slightly stiffen as his breath hitches. "All you need to know about that is that it's your fault."

He is silent. He doesn't know how to respond, but it seems he understands. I can't fully read his face with his sunglasses on. I look back to my paper about the gods of Ancient Egypt. I go over my answers like we were told to, America just about muttering his "yeah"s or "I got that too"s.

Soon the class ended. I put together my things and gave America a smile. I have never forced something so hard in my life.

"Have a nice day, America!" I tell him.

"yeah, you too, Ukraine..." he responds quietly.

I leave, satisfaction in my chest. I still wanted to leave and see my brother, but the weight on my shoulders has been lightened by maybe a fourth or it's size.

I can't wait until school gets out and I can see him again.