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The cold nipped at the young blond's skin, forcing him to wrap his scarf tighter around his neck in hopes of keeping himself warm, even if it chokes him out. It was so cold, cold and empty, the boy doesn't even know where his sisters disappeared to. Were they safe?
The sound of rustling snapped him out of his thoughts. He paused, looking around before speaking with his soft voice. "Uh.. hello? Who's there?" He fiddled with his fingers, an unconscious habit of nervousness.
Maybe it was somebody who he could be friends with, or either, it was somebody who wanted him dead. A shiver ran up his spine as he listened to the sound spin around him, circling like a predator. Russia froze when it went silent and before he could say another word, something, more like someone, ran towards him at full speed.
He screamed waking up, blanket flying and voice echoing. "UKRAINEEEEE!" That was the first person he thought of, his elder sister, who always protected him back then. It took him a moment of deep breathing to realise he was at home, alone. He wasn't Rus', he was Russia, and the year was 2009.
Of course, ever since the Soviet Union collapsed, nobody had stayed beside his side. Not Ukraine, not the Baltics, not even Belarus. Russia slowly got up from bed, the desire to sleep long gone after that nightmare. He paused when he suddenly heard a man's voice coming from behind him.
"Another bad dream, huh..?"
"Oh, Chudomir." Russia turned his head back, looking down at the human in his bed. "I almost forgot you were here.." He sat again, looking into the other's tired eyes. Chudomir was the only one left in the house, the only person Russia could talk to on a daily basis without having to use his telephone.
The two had met under rather unfortunate circumstances, Chudomir was a bulgarian general Russia had captured and held hostage when the red army was invading Bulgaria. Then, things got awkward when Bulgaria suddenly switched sides to the Allies in september, 1944, and Russia originally planned on giving Chudomir back, but... he didn't feel like it, so no matter how much Bulgaria nagged at him, he kept Chudomir in his manor.
He let Chudomir work with the Baltics on keeping the house organised and clean, but the human was quite lethargic to say the least. He was absolutely terrible at his assigned job and Russia started feeling a bit frustrated, before realising something else that the human was actually good at.
Nobody ever fully heard out Russia on any matter, always assuming his ideas to be childish or overly brutal, and not even his closest people could understand him. So when the Cold War started and Russia's stress was through the roof, Chudomir's patience with him was a pleasant surprise. It was a breath of fresh air to finally have someone who would actually look him in the eyes when he was speaking, and not run away with their tail between their legs.
So, Russia let Chudomir stay, as long as he would be there for him and be all ears whenever Russia was feeling down. His immortality rubbed off on him, much like a pet, and here they were, years later, closer than ever to the point they're even sharing a bed.
"I guess I can be pretty quiet sometimes." Chudomir mumbled, sitting up and leaning on his elbows. He had bags under his eyes, a sign of his sleep deprivation, which was slowly improving now that he followed the routine Russia had set for him. "I couldn't sleep, if you ask. Then I heard you stirring and prepared myself for you to wake up yelling."
Russia looked off to the side, a bit embarrassed. Had he really woken up so many times, screaming like a damsel in distress? He was so glad it was still dark outside and that Chudomir wasn't wearing his glasses, meaning he wouldn't be able to see the blush growing on his face.
"I'm sorry." He mumbled. "I hope I'm not the reason you can't sleep... I'm not, right?"
Chudomir nodded. "You're not. I'm always like this, you know it."
"Youuuu... wanna talk about your dream?"
Russia frowned. "No, it's not that big of a deal. I just.. dreamt of being attacked when I was little, again." He did say like how small it made him feel, to be vulnerable, but it came naturally when he was around the human.
"Oh, come on." Chudomir huffed. "It is a big deal, especially when you're looking at me like a sad puppy. At least from what I can see, where are my glasses?" His hand reached for the nightstand beside him, but Russia gently took a hold of his wrist, looming over Chudomir. "No need," Then, he slowly got back into bed. "let's go back to sleep."
"Are you sure?" Chudomir was genuinely surprised, Russia didn't usually like going back to sleep after having a nightmare, unless he had to. "I can go make you tea or light the fireplace, so we can sit in the living room for a bit."
"You know, for someone so lazy, you really would do anything to cheer me up." Russia shook his head fondly, not missing the glare thrown his way. "I'm alright, solnyshko. Besides, I don't want to keep you up. You're already as exhausted as is."
There was no point in trying to refuse when Russia had set his mind on something, so Chudomir didn't complain when the other dragged him closer and eventually had him laying on top of his body. Chudomir relaxed, an odd, warm feeling bubbling up in his chest. He's never been this close to someone, but... it doesn't feel that bad.
Maybe it's because it's Ivan Braginsky of all people. Chudomir hated being around others, being physically affectionate with someone, he hated humanity as a whole and was only polite, because it was the right thing to do. It was hard to hate Ivan, because he wasn't like anyone else Chudomir's ever met, whether that's because he's literally a nation or the time they've spent together has made him way more likeable than when they first met, even while he still has huge flaws.
Whatever, it wasn't like Chudomir doesn't have his own issues.
"Ivan." Chudomir murmured into the man's chest. Russia hummed, "Da?" he placed a hand on Chudomir's back.
"What does this make us?"
"...That's a problem for tomorrow us to deal with."
Russia's dream was far from horrifying this time. Instead of the familiar forest woods, he found himself in a green field of tall sunflowers. The sun was beaming high in the sky, meaning Russia didn't need his scarf to keep himself safe from hypothermia. Not to mention, an additional warmth lay against his chest and stomach, a mess of dark blonde hair sleeping quite peacefully.
Yep, going back to sleep was the best decision Russia could've made tonight.