Oneshots (countryhumans)

Flowers for your Smile

Just a heads up: whenever text is in bold, it indicates that it is another language. I do this because I don't trust online translators to be accurate and it's easier than typing in another language and then including a translation. Thanks for your understanding!

!!!!TW: Self-image issues, brief mentions of abuse, and internalized homophobia.

enjoy!

-----------------------------------

"Russiaaaaa!"

He kept his eyes glued to the documents in front of him. If he ignored him long enough, perhaps he would grow uninterested and give pestering him a rest. It was much too early in the morning to be dealing with his antics.

"Oh come onnnnn, stop being all rude and depressing,"

Just keep your head down.

"Dawg, fucking answer me,"

Saints almighty, he's a persistent bastard.

"You know what, if you don't wanna talk I'll just start singing-"

"Okay! Okay- fucking idiot, what!?" Russia caved, glaring at the now-smug American sitting in front of him. He felt a flash of embarrassment for allowing himself to be provoked so easily. But it was no fault of his the American knew exactly how to push his buttons. 

"You know what today is~?" He spoke with a suspicious sing-songy voice, tilting his head with his signature, idiotic smile plastered across his face. Russia eyed at him blankly.

"No."

America only seemed to smile wider at that and Russia began to feel a touch uneasy. No one was ever able to guess what went through the American's head—least of all him—which could be incredibly unnerving. He truly was a wild card, if not completely mental at times.

"Really? No clue whatsoever, not even the tiniest inkling?"

Okay, now he really was concerned.

"No. I don't know any clue," He swallowed, keeping his face as straight as possible.

"Wow, you are so, so lame. It's fucking Valentine's day idiot," America scoffed, leaning further across Russia's desk. He apparently did not believe in personal space.

Despite their uncomfortable proximity, Russia relaxed at the simplicity of the news. He wouldn't have put it past America to randomly declare it was international knuckle sandwich day before promptly socking him in the face.

"That so? I suppose I had forgotten," He spared a glance at the plain calendar pinned to the office wall. It was indeed February 14th. Russia wasn't surprised that the holiday had slipped his mind; He never had any reason to celebrate. "I don't understand why you bring it up. I don't celebrate."

"Jeez, stop being sad and alone, it's gonna rub off on me." Russia looked at him incredulously, but America kept going. "I brought it up because I wanted to ask if you were busy today."

Russia immediately sensed where this was going.

"I will not be your valentine."

"What?! Whyyyyy?" America dragged out the word in a whine, feigning dejection. Russia shot him an 'are you fucking serious?' look, arms crossed.

"Because. You annoy me," he said candidly.

"Shut up, no I don't,"—Russia nearly laughed at that—"I need a valentine and you were gonna be alone anyways!" America wrinkled his nose in an exaggerated pout.