Light of Mine (RusAme)

Chapter 15

Rus's P.O.V (cursing)

Three

Two

One

And...done.

I flipped my third crêpe off of the pan and turned off the heat. I let the pan sit and cool off while I gathered some ingredients and fruit for the filling. 

I looked over at the counter and noticed various types of fruits stashed in a bowl. I pulled the bowl over to my side and took a look inside. There were apples, bananas, pears, and a few peaches. I haven't had bananas in a bit, so I grabbed them. 

I peeled the bananas, but before I could cut them, a light chuckle caught my attention. I turned my head and found America looking at his phone, while trying to keep a straight face, but failing miserably. 

I sighed and set my eyes back on the bananas. I picked up a knife and attempted to cut the bananas; attempted. 

But the thought of the star spangled country hung lividly in my mind. 

He was so lucky. He had family, he had friends, he had stability, he had everything that I didn't. 

And that was the truth of the matter. Yes I hated America, but I was also jealous of everything he had, and everything that he had thrown away. 

He left his family out to dry. He left his friends on voicemail. He left his stable life and came here. 

And worst of all, he doesn't realize that he's the problem. That he's the one responsible for all of his issues.

I shook my head, that was too much too fast. 

I quickly chopped the bananas and placed them in my crêpes. After that, I closed the crêpes, pulled out some powered sugar, and scooped some out with a spoon. I tapped the spoon and dusted my breakfast with the powder. 

Then, I took my cooled off pan and placed it in the sink, squirted some dish soap on it, and proceeded to scrub it with a sponge. 

Once I was done with that, I placed the pan into a dish rack, and grabbed my breakfast. I opened a drawer to grab some silverware, I ended up opening the wrong drawer. I closed that one, and opened another one. This time, I saw the shiny silver objects. 

I took a fork and a knife, closed it, and bolted to the table.

As I took a seat, America looked over at the kitchen, and walked over to the now empty space. I saw him grab the pan that I was using, dry it off, and light the stove. I turned my head away and began to eat. 

However, someone had other plans. 

"So...Russ-" I glared at him, he better not call me that. "-ia, what have you been doing?" 

"Zhat iz none of yourrr buizznezz; iz it?" I snapped at him. He jumped a bit, but continued to cook. 

"No need to be so cold, I'm just asking a question." He responded. I rolled my eyes."Stupid, America, why did you do that?" I heard him mumble. 

"Becauze, you did." He went silent after that, which came as a blessing to me.

My crêpes weren't too bad, they were just alright. I haven't made crêpes in about a year, so this was not an improvement, but it wasn't a downgrade; it was just plain. 

Unlike me.

Sure, I was what others considered one-dimensional. I was simply the country who was cold, unwelcoming, and aggressive. But that, while not being totally wrong, certainly missed a few points.