My Love for You - Rusame

Chapter 1 - Assignments

"Hiya," said the striped country.

"Amerrika," I greeted, my 'r's rolling and my 'c's coming out more like a 'k'. "Why arre you herrre?"

He held up the folder from earlier. "Duh. Nations said we'll have to work overtime to do this." I didn't move for him to come in, fuming. UN was walking on very thin ice. "Can I come in? I'm sorry, it's just freezing."

Awkwardly, I moved aside for the smaller country to enter. He shivered as he shed his coat and shoes. "Damn, why it so cold up here, bro?"

"It is only cold forr warrm countrries. And do not call me 'brrro'." I drew out the 'r', hoping to intimidate him into submission.

America either didn't listen, or didn't care as he went to the living room and plopped down on the couch. Returning to the kitchen, I washed and dried the last of the dishes and tucked them into the cabinets. Trying to delay our assignment a little longer, I wiped down the counters, swept the floors, and put some fruit on display.

Sighing, I returned to America on the couch. "Have you eaten?"

Without looking up, he waved away my question. "No thanks, I'm not hungry."

At least he's remembered his manners. Carefully perching on the edge of the cushion, I glanced over a set of papers strewn across the coffee table.

"Hey, you got a stapler?"

"Surrre." I stood and walked to my office, picking up the black stapler on my desk and flicking open the top. Empty. Of course. I quickly began looking through drawers, searching for a spare box of staples. Coming up empty, I turned to the filing cabinet behind me. I felt my face flush when I realized all of my spare office supplies were in the bottom-most drawer.

Breathing deep, I attempted to squat, something that my physical therapist advised strongly against.

Slowly, I fought my body's instinct and pushed my legs. But before I could get anywhere close, my knee buckled, landing me hard on my ass. Hissing, I stood, pissed at myself.

Instead of squatting, I simply bent over, trying my best to keep my wobbly balance. This is so humiliating! I thought as I reached in for the small box.

America POV

I massaged my temples, my skull pounding like a jackhammer as I sat back down on the couch.

As quickly as I could, I refocused on my work, but my mind immediately wandered back to the image of Russia's ass as he bent over that drawer. The thought of how tight his pants were, how firm that cake looked as he confidently shoved his ass in the air. My face reddened at the mental recollection.

"You'rrre bleeding, Amerrika," his thick Russian accent noted as he sat down the stapler on the table in from of me.

"Huh?" I said dumbly, only then taking note of my nosebleed. "Oh, sorry, that happens sometimes." I chuckled sheepishly as I attempted to rub away the traitorous blood with the hem of my sleeve.

Looking slightly annoyed, Russia walked into the kitchen before returning with a damp washrag. As he touched my jaw, I expected his grip to be gruff, but was instead met with an uncharacteristic gentleness. He softly tipped my chin upward to dab away the excess blood on my lip, his warm rag and tender movements making quick work of the task.

My face was hot at his touch as I swallowed my racing heart. After he walked away, I ducked my head and trained my eyes on the paper in my hand. Don't make it weird, just do your thing. Hide how fucking, fucking stupid you are by flirting.