(Russia x America) part 7

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All these allies, these friends I've made; what was the point of them. Nothing, the only thing that could makes someone like me content is when all the playing cards are in my hands. If I cannot be the king you wish to obey then I shall be the tyrant you despise and fear.

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When I had arrived home to that little house, it was a blizzard outside. I entered covered in snow, and America sat at the dining table writing something. He was bundled in sweaters and steaming cup of hot coco sat beside his empty hand.

America turned to greet me and wrote ["Welcome back"] on his notebook that was cluttered with little notes and scribbles.

My mind was so cluttered, my thoughts poisoned by emotions; when will this irritating feeling cease? More importantly when did it begin?

I raised my head, my hair tips dripping from the melting snow, and gazed towards America with a blank stare.

"You hate me right America...? I mean it's not as if you like me right..."?

"..."?

America tilted his head to the side a little looking puzzled. I quickly became impatient and raised my voice.

"You can't stand the sight of me! All of you assume the worst when Russia gets involved"!!!

Feeling the tension rise America sat back in the chair pulling his arms close to him with his shoulders scrunched up. I looked at him with a piercing gaze and began to walk forward. He stared up at me with aw and shriveled down into the chair, but when I reached him I pulled him up by the collar of his shirt.

"A-ah...."!?

The force of my pull caused America to drop his notebook. I pulled him up high enough that he had to point his toes so he wouldn't hang from my grip. I gritted my teeth hard enough to hear them grind. I just felt so angry and cornered. These comrades of mine don't understand how things work with me, so naturally I was determined to get my point across to at least one of them and I'll start with the weakest.

"Say it America. With those whimpers of yours. Say that you hate me. You hate my very existence".

"....uh.."?

"I said say it!!! If not then show me your eyes! Show me that concealed rebellious flame"!!

America looked away and tightly closed his eyes, refusing to give me what I demanded.

"Look at me America"!!

I shook him roughly, but he still did not wane. Even if it was just a choppy noise I wanted to hear the answer I wanted. Obviously I've been too soft on him, if it continues I'll loose myself at this rate. The playing cards I worked so hard to gather will be taken away. I needed him to know that I am an ally of war, not a friend.

Eventually America did look back at me but it was the complete opposite of what I wanted. He furrowed his eyebrows and gave me the most pitiful look in his eyes; he pitied me.

Why are you looking at me like that? Stop it... Don't look at me like that!

"I don't need any of your pity!!!", I shouted landing a hard hit to America's left cheek.

I lost it. I had become a monster of anger and fear. It's not that I intended to use such brutal tactics, I really only meant to break them with words alone, but this child; this stupid little punk of a nation is breaking me instead.

America held his swollen cheek and looked at me still with the same expression. I know he was trying to tell me something, but I refused to think on the matter.

"Just say it!! Say that you hate me!! I'm the coldest heartless bastard you ever met!!

"......"

No matter how much I shook, shouted, and insulted America he wouldn't hied to my demands. He tightly pressed his lips together and refused to even try to speak.

"Stubborn wretch!!! I know you all hate me! You always have!! And I can deal with it!! Since birth I've always had to fend for myself. I don't need any of your pity!!!

"....."

"It doesn't matter anyway. Whether you hate me or not. I won't let anyone change my ways".

Realizing that I was getting no where I turned to exit out the front door. The blizzard didn't really bother me much; besides, I've survived one before a really long time ago.

"...."?

"You can go crawling back into England's arms, I couldn't care less! I'll send you back tomorrow, so you can show everyone how utterly useless you are! Then again when have you ever been useful America"?

"!? Ah-! *bang*"!

Once America notice my departure he sprung to his feet, but his ankles were weak and his body was brittle. The moment he put weight on his feet they locked and he fell face first into the floor boards. By then I was already out the door.

You're not the only one America. I know what it's like to be weak, to be discarded. It's a cold numbing feeling that your body remembers until the end is granted. Now it is your turn to feel the same, for this shall be the only thing I share with you comrade.

~To Be Continued...

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