(RusAme) ~ Roommates ~ (CountryHumans)

two six

haha calm down guys!! im not planning on killing anyone with my knife (just a little maiming)

Russia tapped the keyboard of his laptop lightly as he thought about what to write next, pressing down on the keys with hardly any force to draw out that typing sound without actually writing anything. He was currently figuring out how to best BS the rest of this literature paper, but it was proving harder than anticipated.

Across the small cafe table, America sat slouched in his metal chair with his feet on the tabletop. He smacked his gum around in his mouth before blowing a bubble and popping it behind closed lips with his teeth. Other than that he wasn't much of a bother, just keeping to himself on his phone.

The American had been surprisingly... bearable the past few days. He hadn't done anything to piss Russia off, and Russia hadn't been mean to him or anything. It was sort of nice.

The protagonist's ignorance of the obvious symbols present in his home represents the amount of apathy he has gained from working with apathetic people. By deciding to not quit his job, he is leading himself deeper into loneliness, shown by the lack of fire in his fireplace. However, the author mentions that a few embers remain, which could foreshadow possible hope for the future.

Russia stopped typing, biting the inside of his cheek. Was that good enough? He was so close to reaching the required word count, but it was honestly difficult to write a thousand word essay on the first few chapters of a book he had read while drunk.

"Fuck," America muttered. Russia glanced up to see America scowling at his phone.

Oh well, it wasn't his business. Leaning back in his seat, Russia once again drummed his fingers on the keyboard. Symbolism... symbolism... what else did the main character have in his house that Russia could make symbolic? Didn't the author mention there was a glass of water or something?

Yes, perfect.

Russia started typing again, drawing an imaginary connection from the glass of water to the protagonist's hardships.

A few minutes of silence passed before either one of them made a noise. "Hey, Russia...?"

Russia finished writing the sentence he was on before glancing at America. Then he looked back at his computer. "What."

"Now that we're sort-of friends, I think we should talk."

Grunting, Russia didn't bother debating the 'sort-of friends' comment. America was free to think whatever he wanted, even if he was wrong 90% of the time. "About what?"

Probably homework. Or maybe he was going to try to convince Russia to sit with him at lunch.

That would be a definite no.

America tipped his head back and chewed on his lip like he was trying to think of a way to best word his thoughts. "I know you won't want to, but you still need to sort out that thing with Georgia and everyone."

Just the mention of the other country made Russia's mood instantly sour, and he directed a sharp glare to America. Was this why America had been so complacent recently? Because he wanted to trick Russia into letting his guard down so he could fucking lecture him again?

America paid no heed to the burning stare aimed his way. "I can talk to them for you, I'm totally down to be the middleman if you need me to. This would be a great opportunity for you guys to make amends! There's no point in being hostile with nations because of things that happened in the past, believe me."

Russia rolled his eyes, but America kept going.

"I'm sure you and Georgia could be friends if you really tried! She's nice once you get to know her - same with Poland and Estonia and all those other countries you've had a 'bad past' with. But that's the thing! It's the past, so just forgive and forget."