Britain x USSR

uh- not sure.

It was a sunny day, the light from the sun beemed onto the earth. Britain was sat on a bench, in the middle of the woods for some odd reason. The British male quietly hummed to himself as his suit flowed a little in the slight breeze. Soviet was walking nearby, and happened to see the other country.
Confused, soviet walked over to Britain and wondered why he was all alone. Where's France? He thought.

Britain looked up at the taller country, he wasn't smiling. His eyes were dull, cheeks and face lightly red, and his hands shaking a little. He looked like shit. Soviets eyes widened as he sat next to the British male.

"What happened? Are you okay? You look like you've been crying. Is there something you need to get out of your head?"

Britain slowly nodded as he made a 'hm' sound to say yes instead of using words.

Soviet was frowning. What could of possibly upset Britain so much that he looked like this? Britain opened his mouth, about to say something, but then stopped himself and hugged his own arm. The taller Russian was concerned for Britain's mental health.

"Britain, speak to me please.. it's going to make it easier for the both of us. If you don't feel comfortable telling me in person," Soviet grabbed a piece of paper out of his pocket and gave it to Britain, the paper had soviets number on it. "--You can text or call me."

Britain shook his head as he slipped the paper into his suit pocket.

"I-I.. I can talk.. j-just give me a minute, p-please.."

Soviet nodded and sighed a little.

Britain brought up his courage, and opened his mouth once more, begging to speak.

"France.. h-he cheated.. I saw him kissing third reich.. Then.. France saw me.. h-he just started yelling at me.. t-telling me he never loved me, t-that I'm worthless.. and I'm a waste of space.."

Britain swallowed a lump in his throat as he began to sob, putting his head in his hands, clearly distressed.

Soviets eyes widened once more, putting his arm around Britain and pulling him into a hug. Sadly, the other country didn't hug back and just continued to sob.

Soviet wasn't quite sure what to feel, angry, sympathy, or happiness. He had always been jealous of France and Britain, especially when all Britain would talk about was his lover at the time. Britain seemed to pull his suit sleeves down, like there was something he was hiding. Though there was nothing there, he was feeling insecure and unsafe.

The smaller country pushed the taller male away, stood up, and ran as fast as he could into his house. Soviet couldn't do anything, he figured that the British male would need some space, and sighed.

(I'm so sorry if this Doesn't make sense or is too short. I'm personally British and by writing stories like this helps me get my emotions out. Thank you for reading!)