Britain x USSR

Chapter 5

A few months passed, Britain had moved in with Soviet for his own good. It was about midnight, so both countries were asleep. Britain woke up after a few minutes though, because he was so used to being awake all the time. He hadn't recovered from his depression, his voices were still there, and he still self harmed. Britain looked around for sharp objects, and he eventually found Soviet's pistol, which gave him the idea to finally end his miserable life. The small country walked into the bathroom, locked the door behind him and stared in the mirror. The voices were chanting at Britain. Yes! Do it! He won't care, it was stupid that you believe that he loves you! Pull the trigger! No one cares!!!
The male slowly began to cry, his shoulders jerking as he sobbed into his hands. Britain eventually wiped his tears, pointing the gun at his head, his finger on the trigger. Soviet woke up. He wondered where the smaller male was, standing up in curiosity. There was silence. Not a word. Not a sound. Soviet knocked on the bathroom door, wondering if Britain was in there. There was not a word. He knocked again. Britain was still alive in there, the gun to his head, just staring in the mirror, not making a sound. Soviet grew worried, a weird feeling in his gut grew stronger. He kicked the bathroom door open, his eyes winded when he saw the small male. Britain flinched when he heard the door being kicked open. He was just about to pull the trigger, unlucky him didn't get the chance. Soviet snatched the gun away from Britain, tears rolling down his cheeks. Britain was still crying anyways. Tears dripped off of his face, onto his black hoodie. Soviet threw the gun away and hugged the small brit. He didn't hug back.

"Britain! My goodness! Why would you do that to yourself?! I would miss you so much if you were gone!"

Britain was silent for a few moments, then spoke;

"...You wouldn't miss me, stop lying to me! I'm a worthless little rat, just like I was told as a child! I don't matter to this world, everyone would be happier and better off if I was gone! For heavens sake soviet! LEAVE ME TO DIE! YOU CAN'T STOP ME!"

Soviet flinched. Britain grabbed the gun and ran down the stairs. Soviet chased after him. BANG! There was blood on the walls, on the floor, on the gun. The brit laid dead on the floor, pale. Soviet started to cry again. The one he loved, trusted, cared for was now dead.

"I-I-... I couldn't stop him...!" His hands were shaking and he covered his mouth. He began to sob. He gave the brit a small kiss on the cheek before calling an ambulance, trying to save his small crush. It was too late. Britain was dead.

(Hello! I am truly sorry for not making this a long book. I've had art and writers block for AGES now. It's painful ngl- Also, I might make a second story with a different plot. Do you think i should?)