Theme 76 Broken Pieces (Part 1) Reader x Russia

Theme 76 Broken Pieces Part 1

 The thousands of broken mirror shards reflected the stale, white bathroom light and cast a blinding brightness directly into your eyes.  You were keeling, hunched over yourself and trying to hold back the sobs that formed in your throat.  It had happened again.  Your memory was hazy, but you were almost one hundred precent sure what had happened.  After all, it was YOUR body that ached, YOUR body that was covered in bruises, and YOUR blood that was dripping down onto the porcelain white tiles.  You didn’t think it was possible, but tears began to once again flood your eyes and seamlessly run down your cheeks.
“Damn it…” you cursed yourself whilst wiping your tear stained cheeks clean.  Footsteps echoed from behind you, causing your heart to race but not in a good way. You knew that he was always so apologetic afterwards.  So much that sometimes it made your heart break to see him upset, but this time there was something different, something cold and calculated about the bruises.  The marks he left were usually scattered across your body, and be never once drew blood.  But now, your upper arm was punctured by fragments of the mirror he had thrown you into, making sure to avoid your face, lower arms and legs.  He had even gone as far as to throw you into the leftover fragments that had fallen onto the floor.  You stifled a cry as his footsteps drew closer.  He knelt down behind you and gently wrapped his large, warm arms around you, pulling you into a surprisingly soft and gentle embrace.
“I’m sorry, _______” he nuzzled into the back of your neck as he spoke.  “I lost control… but I promise it won’t happen again….” His voice was smooth and low, nowhere near as dark as before.  You truly did love Russia, though there were times, times like this, that you weren’t so sure.  His hold on you tightened, causing the pain all over your body to escalate. You winced and he quickly loosened his hold.  Spinning around, you looked deep into his violet eyes,
“Ivan… Russia… I…” your gaze dropped.  The pale blonde’s expression changed, over the years he had asked you to call him Ivan, to him, Russia was a formal term that you almost never used.  Tears fell over your cheeks again, “I… I can’t do this anymore….” Quickly you stood, grabbed the thickest coat you could find, your mobile and rushed out of the door, ignoring the nagging pains that shot through your body.

Once you were outside, the cold bitterness of Russia’s emotions hit you.  The weather in each country was often dictated by the human manifestations of them, and well, a moment ago, it wasn’t freezing cold, or snowing.  You couldn’t afford to cry anymore, not now.  This was the decision you had made, and you had to stick by it.  You sucked in a sharp breath of painfully cold air and dialled a taxi.

Le Time Skip~!

You hadn’t seen Ivan since that night.  You couldn’t, because you were sure that if you did, your heart would completely break in two.  You had moved back to (Country) once you were sure he wouldn’t follow you, leaving a large majority of your possessions at his home just to be sure there wouldn’t be a scene.  But now there was no escaping it, there was a world meeting being held, and, like with every world meeting, you were asked to help cater for the entire event.

Your hands were shaking slightly, and palms were sweaty.  You took a deep breath and pushed open the double doors to the conference room.  Per the usual, France and Britain were arguing like school girls, America was babbling on with no one really listening, Greece was napping, Italy was playing with one of Greece’s cats and the other nations were chatting on amongst themselves, you found it weird that Germany had let them waste as much time as they already had without yelling at them to shut up.   Swiftly, and without drawing any attention to yourself, you placed the food and drinks around the table.  That was when you noticed Russia’s absence.  When you reached the three Baltic nations you paused for a moment,
“Estonia, where is Russia?” your voice was low, so low that the nation barely heard you.  The blonde nation turned to you, almost as if he was surprised to see you.
“In his room still… The only reason he even left the house was because he thought he would see you, but I think he lost his nerves…”   The Baltic nation shifted his glasses higher and turned back to one of the others who were calling for input.  Panic shot through the pit of your stomach.  You knew better than anyone what would happen when the large nation was depressed, or angry.  You quickly finished the service and sprinted from the kitchen, there were irritated and confused yells coming from the kitchen.  But you completely blocked them out, your only focus being on running and Ivan.

Le Time Skip~!

A heavy layer of darkening clouds began to blanket the sky just as you arrived at (Hotel name).  You walked into the lobby and showed your name tag and credentials, which in this case allowed you to access the rooms each country and service worker stayed in.

The elevator was excruciatingly slow, feeling more like a life time than only a few minutes.  The fact that people seemed to be getting on and off on every other floor didn’t help.  By the time you reached the designated floor, your nails drummed impatiently on the guard railing, and your chest ached with anxiety. As soon as the door opened you sprinted forward, shocking two elder women and causing a slight yelp from the teens you almost crashed into.  After a quick apology though, you turned and continued, albeit at a slower pace, to Russia’s room.

‘Great’ you thought as you approached the room.  ‘They put him next to America…’ you sighed deeply as you passed four empty trays of hamburger platters, and near empty French Fries containers.
“Such a slob…” you murmured, stopping dead in front of the apartment’s door.  Your hand rose to knock, but you hesitated.  Maybe he really didn’t want to see you… maybe he had moved on and just didn’t want to- no, no, Estonia said he purposely skipped the meeting because of you. You gnawed your lower lip and knocked loudly on the wooden door.  Silence, followed by the sound of dragging footsteps echoed from the room.  A moment later the door cracked open, and the Russian man behind it became visible.  His hair was a mattered mess, bags sagged darkly under his bloodshot eyes, and a very near empty bottle of vodka was held loosely in his fingers. You knew perfectly well that countries had a much higher tolerance to everything, including alcohol, so one bottle of vodka wouldn’t have done this to him.  Not even close.

You both stood there for a moment, unsure of what to say, or do. Then suddenly Ivan lurched forward, dropping and shattering the glass bottle of empty vodka, and pulled you into a warm embrace.
“Pozhaluysta ... Pozhaluysta, prosti menya…” he whispered softly.  It made your heart ache terribly.  You wanted to forgive him, but there was a nagging voice in the back of your mind that told you not too.  How many times had he hurt you? How many times did you make-up? But, if you felt that way, why did you rush over here to check on him? Your mind was at war with itself. Did you really want to forgive him? Could you? Our stomach started churning. “_________...” Ivan’s voice was sweet, but serious. “Do you still love me…?”

“I….”

_______________

(The Russian translates to: "Please... please, forgive me...")

You can answer the end however you want, but there is a chapter 2 because my friend was bugging me to finish it ^^