What if...

Chapter Fifteen~

"Carmen, are you coming or not?!" called the dearest Romania.

"One sec!" I called, slinging my belt around my hips. I shoved my feet in my boots and zipped them up before thundering down the stairs, my red hair streaming past me. I stopped at the door, hands on my knees, catching my breath as Moldova looked at me in wonder.

"What?" I asked, finally able to talk.

"...You run fast..." he said in awe.

I rolled my eyes, straitening and following Romania out the door.

It had been a little while after Romania and I patched things up, and things were running smoothly again. Today was a world meeting (minus Russia) to plan out what to do. We were headed to China. Quickest way there? Through Russia. Were we going there? No. So what would have been a simple forty minute drive turned into an hour and a half long drive. With a kid. Who's male. Encased in steel.

If you've ever had a younger brother or nephew or cousin, you understand my pain.

"Where are we going?" Moldova asked, leaning forward so his head was between our shoulders.

"To the world meeting," Romania answered.

"I know, but where," he stressed.

"At the old man's house," I chirped.

"Ah, China."

I blinked. How did he know that China was the oldest one of us?

Silence.

"...Why are we--never mind."

I blinked, slowly turning to look down at him. "...huh?"

He looked up at me innocently. "What?"

"What were you going to ask?"

"Nothing. Why?"

I turned back around to look out the windshield.

Silence.

"Romania I'm hungry," Moldova stated. "Do we have snack food?"

He shook his head. "No. And you also didn't finish your cold cuts."

Moldova sat back in his seat, looking out his window.

Silence.

"How much longer?" he asked.

"Oh, about five more years," I answered, stretching.

"Har har. Seriously, how much longer?"

"One more mile," I answered again. Romania stifled a laugh.

Moldova huffed.

Silence.

"I'm booorreed."

"Play I Spy," I answered.

"Okay! I Spy with my little eye... Something... Red!"

I didn't answer.

"Carmen, come on! Take a guess!"

I looked back, feigning innocence. "What?"

"I spy something red!"

I blinked. "Oh. I meant with yourself."

"Carmen be nice," came Romania's quick and direct order.

"Fiiine," I answered, rolling my eyes and turning back around.

Silence.

We were passing through Syria when Romania lost it and ordered us to all play "Quaker Meeting" (the Silent Game). Moldova shut right up and I turned on the radio to listen to music, singing along to it. Romania didn't mind this, even though I wasn't being quiet.