(RusAme) ~ Roommates ~ (CountryHumans)

twenty NEIN (yes i already made this joke)

holy shit, it's been a whole ass year since i started publishing this dumb story. time really does fly

tysm for reading this guys, it means so much to me that people like my writing (even if it is about a bunch of humanoid countries that occasionally fuck each other) and honestly, its helped me be a bit more self confident knowing that not everyone hates me.

i cant promise that i'll put out another 29 chapters between now and March 19, 2021 because i'll have way less time moving forward, but i'll probably still be working on this story by then. maybe. we'll see ;))

anyways, thanks for sticking around, and i'm so sorry to tell you that we're still a ways away from the fluff

America wasn't talking to him.

That was the first difference Russia had noticed -- that America wasn't attempting to start conversations anymore, or even saying 'hey' to Russia if they crossed paths. Their dorm room was completely silent when they were getting ready for bed or waking up.

It didn't bother Russia at first. He could deal with getting the cold shoulder. He had been getting it for a while from other countries, anyways. But soon it began to be annoying. America was straight up ignoring him, acting as if Russia was completely see through. He didn't talk to him or anything, and when your roommate was pretending you didn't exist, Russia found that it wasn't the ideal situation.

Russia quietly left his current classroom to use the bathroom, wiping his palms on his pants. It was annoying to not have America respond when Russia asked him something, but it honestly wasn't the worst it could be.

The bell rang while he was washing his hands. When Russia came back to the room to gather his stuff, the class was mostly empty, with a few people packing up their bags. His notebook lay open on his desk, most of the pages ripped to shreds and crumpled up, marked and blank alike. The cover was nearly torn in half, too.

Great. Fucking great. Middle school-level bullying.

For some reason, it felt like something cold was dripping down the back of Russia's throat and filling his lungs with chilling fluid, making each breath feel like he was breathing straight frost. Why was that? He should be angry about this. He should be choking down a searing lump of coal as a raging fire blazed in his stomach. But he just felt cold.

He turned to where America was standing a few seats away, slinging his backpack onto his back. "Hey! Who did this?"

America ignored him, walking to the door. It only took two strides for Russia to reach him and grab his wrist to prevent him from leaving. He knew America wouldn't have been the one to demolish his notebook like that, but maybe he saw who did it.

"Do you know who wrecked my notebook?" he asked lowly. The last two people in the room left, leaving them alone.

America nodded.

"Who?"

America shrugged.

Russia gritted his teeth, a little put off by America's apparent lack of care. "Who?"

America shrugged again. "Why should I tell you? We're not friends."

"It doesn't matter if we're friends or not, it's called being a decent human being!" Maybe that was a little ironic coming from him. "Don't be so fucking petty, and just talk to me!"

America smiled sweetly before spitting out a phrase that Russia had said the last time they argued. "I don't want to fucking talk with you."