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The nations went to sleep in extravagant guest rooms in the mansion, besides Romano, Lithuania, and Belarus, who all had their own rooms, and Russia, but they didn't know where he went.

"If his mattress wasn't full of holes I would let you sleep in his room," Zaltana mumbled to him, and he nodded, gazing on as they passed the door before going to a room reserved for 'special' guests. Unlike most of the other rooms, this one was as fine pressed as it was before- the same lucious sheets and cold iron bed frames as there was before.

There was a door to the side of it that led to Dyami's office.

"Thank you," he said, taking his coat off. She was glancing at him, and he went to throw it over the bed frame. She was still looking at him.

"What?"

"Do you still love him?" she looked him into the eyes then, and Ivan realized two things- one, Zaltana still was just as close with her brother, and two, Alfred was still in love with him. That was the only reason to ask that question. Her arms crossed over her chest.

"I don't know," he replied, "I feel something towards him, but he broke my trust by not giving me my memories back at the first chance. The USSR has been gone for thirty years, he should be acting like it."

She nodded, slowly, "Understandable."

She left the room, having to bow slightly to get through the door, and his eyes followed her as the door shut behind her. He locked the door behind her, before sitting down in the bed. He seemed to sink into it, and it made him scowl- he had never gotten used to soft beds.

He knew this room was for visitors with richer tastes, so he left it as it was, taking off his boots and tossing them to the side. In these bigger houses he'd gotten used to wearing shoes, but he knew a lot of the nations would be complaining.

The sheets were thick and soft. He still did not understand the rich.

He dreamt for the first time in a long while.

Kisses trailed along his neck, and he pushed the two of them over. Alfred smiled at him, the devilish eyes seeming to challenge him. His arms were draped lazily around his neck, and he leaned down to kiss him, as deeply as he himself wished, Alfred being as submissive and disarming as he always was around him.

"You're so very special," Alfred had said, against his lips before rolling his hips, "now, are you ready to act like it?"

He grabbed onto Alfred's hips-

He mumbled something, looking up at the ceiling fan. It was turned off in the winter, and he looked over to the clock. It was three in the morning- and he had morning wood.

He groaned, evaluating whether or not to ignore it before getting up and walking to the bathroom.

Illinois was still driving- he was tireless, as Juliana seemed to be thinking from the backseat. Her sister, Abigail, was asleep behind him, having a horrible nightmare about getting captured by the police even though she hardly twitched.

The car was ricity and stolen and the knotted red wires under the dashboard occasionally brushed his leg, which was very annoying.

Ohio was full of the average- snow. And sometimes a tree. Very rarely a building. He had found himself to be in South Western Tennessee, which made the drive much easier, although it was getting to be early in the morning- how was he supposed to know he'd escaped at night? Exactly, he couldn't see the clock.

Juliana was wavering in her seat from trying to stay up, and he looked up at her in the rear-view mirror.

'Go to sleep,' he coaxed her mind, and she seemed to think she should- leaning towards the door on the opposite of her sister before she startled.

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