Prove Me Wrong (Rusame)

Russia Is Even More Confused

Narrators POV

Waking up alive was not what America expected.

Neither was waving up naked in a bathtub for that matter.

When he came to, he thought he was in a bed for how warm he was. But when he splashed water onto his face, he realized where he was. In Russia’s bathroom? What the fuck was he doing here? How did he get here?
Is that Russia?

America noticed Russia sleeping, his back against the side of the tub. Why was he here? Wait, he can't be here! His eyes, his-his sunglasses! He saw his eyes! He ran away. Out into the snow, he-he fell down, and he couldn’t get back up. It was so cold. He couldn’t see. He felt so tired. Russia, he picked him up and. . .

When he heard splashing, Russia shot his head up and looked right at America. He was slightly startled when he saw his black eyes again, almost expecting to see his sunglasses as he always did. But it was only momentary.

“Arrre you okay?”

America looked down, raising his hands from the water. They were tingling and as he moved it hurt. He grimaced at the feeling, his face scrunching up.

“It hurts.”

“It vill forrr little while. I kan grrrab some pain killerrrs,” Russia stood up and walked over to the door. ”Is vater still varrrm?”

“Yeah.”

He must have not been asleep for long then if the water was still warm. But then again, any water that was warmer than the outside temperature must have been heaven to him. He'll have to check just to be sure.

“Good. Stay therrre until I kome back,” he left in a hurry, breathing out a sigh of relief. It was so weird, having America bare ass naked a few inches from him. It could have been the normal weird, or it could not have bothered him at all. But no. This felt different. He even felt the slight temptation to look down. Which he ignored strongly.

Russia returned with the painkillers and a glass of water and handed them to America. He kept his eyes averted, staring at the wall as if it was the most interesting thing he has seen all day. Don't look below the waist, don't look below the waist.

“Thank you,” America said after he swallowed the pill, setting the glass down. Russia grunted his response and sat back down with his back against the tub again.

Silence fell between them, the only sounds the rushing air from the heater and the water moving as America sifted.

God, it was so hot.

Russia opened his mouth to say something but the words died in his throat. What could he say? In a fit of rage, he revealed what America wanted hidden. Sure, he had done something similar to him but does that make it right to do the same? He didn’t like it when it happened to him, why would he want to do the same to another country? Especially if it was America.

“I’m sorrrry,” He finally said.

America looked up at him and traced the side of his head where the glasses used to be with his finger. His muscle felt sore, and a little stiff but he no longer felt as cold as he did before. The warm air and heat from the water felt so nice.

When there was no response, Russia felt a twinge of pain in his heart. He messed up bad, didn’t he?

“If its any konsolation,” he cleared his throat and avoided eye contact again. “I um. I zink zey arrre um . . . nice.”

A small smile curled on America’s lips, and he remembered back when Drunk Russia had said they were weird, and he liked weird. Of course, then he would say whatever was on his mind, and now he is muddling what he meant. Russia would never openly admit to liking something about him, that’s too embarrassing. But America still knew.