Requests And Art Stuff

A RusAme Story

Yeah, another RusAme story (in short form :D)
I haven't posted on here for a while so here's some country human juice
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America winced as he rested his hand atop his wound. Blood gushed from the bullet wound and seeped through his shirt. He tried not to let the loud sound of music affect him. Even so, it was hard to walk while his head was thumping.

But he knew he needed to move fast, so he reluctantly dragged his feet through the nightclub, trying to keep his distance from the other countries. He wasn't intent on drawing anymore attention to himself. All he had to do was get himself out of this building, well, there were other things to consider when he left too.

One step at a time, America thought carelessly.

A hard, metalic taste flooded America's mouth and blood seeped down his lip. His eyes went big and he clenched his teeth; hoping not to loose too much blood.

The thumping only got louder with each step. America's breath slowed and quickened.

He could see it now. The door. An exit.

Just then, the entrance doors to the club slammed open. America glanced back and cursed once he saw the countries pursuing him.

The music still played but most countries had quietened due to the threatening group of assalents. This didn't help America however. His heavy breathing was only the more clearer.

Not too far off, America spotted a small group of countries. All dressed in fancy suits. A little too fancy for clubbing infact. But that didn't matter much to America. Yet, he searched through the short crowd and spotted someone.

Red! America's eyes went wide once again. He'd found his ticket out of here.

America pushed himself as further as he could towards his destination. He huffed and tried pulling himself together as well as he could.

Finally he'd made it to the outside of the crowd with little energy to spare. "Red...!" America whispered harshly to get one of the country's attention.

Immediately a country turned to him.

He was tall and broad shouldered with red, blue, and white stripes lining his face. His expression was twisted up into annoyance and boredom. And his arms were crossed rudely. But his face quickly changed once he noticed America.

"Who pissed in your cheerios, Russia?" America joked despite the pain.

Russia eyed the large red stain on America's shirt and snatched his arm, pulling him closer. "What the hell happened to you?" Russia also whispered as to not alert any of the other fancy countries.

Frowning, America risked a glimpse behind him towards his, still searching, enemies. "I'll explain when we get in the car. Those fuckers are after me," America hissed and pointed behind him.

Russia dug his hand deeper into America's arm, and pulled the country with him towards the back of the club where the exit was.

"I forgot the car."