"Well, you don't say..."
Hands clenched, and forehead sweaty, Toris forced a nod.
"She hasn't returned yet. She was supposed to catch a flight yesterday back home, but I'm afraid she's not coming back anytime soon."
Rolling his eyes, Ivan crossed one leg over another, fixing his posture amongst the soft velvety chair.
"That's a dramatic theory, Mr.Lithuania." Russia pointed out, pulling a hand to his scarf, tucking it against his tan coat. "She's being her usual sulky self. There's a rational explanation for this. Natalya's been missing for only two days now."
"D-do you think it has anything to do with-" Lithuania gulped, as his legs quaked under his weight, as if they were about to give out. "Uhm....with the whole thing about you and America?".
The simple mention of that capitalist pig's name set off Russia.
"Right...." Russia growled. "I forgot about that entirely."
Toris squeaked as he watched Russia rise from his chair, his mountain of a height casting a shadow over the poor nation. "Say now, Lithuania," Ivan began, his fingers grasping for a tall bottle of authentic Russian vodka. "Do you find this whole demeanor to be connected with that slug of a nation?".
With Natalya, he could never even guess the answer to that question. With how unstable her mind and emotions were, it could have been any reason. As a matter of fact, America could have simply been pulled into this mess. He could have nothing to do with her disappearance. Taking a long and vigorous swig of the bottle, Ivan downed half of the vodka, the clear alcohol dribbling down his chin. He slammed the half empty bottle onto the smooth wooden desk next to his velvet chair, wiping is mouth and chin.
"Da, for all I care, she can stay away..."
Toris felt himself twitch. He knew he didn't mean that entirely. He needed her here eventually, she was an important part of their decision making, whether he liked it or not.
"Sh-she'll have to turn up eventually, sir," Lithuania squeaked, wishing he could shrink into his gentle grass green button up. Heaving out an irritated sigh, Russia crossed the room, his attention was pinned at the window. He followed the flakes of snow aggressively raining from the sky, decorating the ground and trees in a hazy white.
"I suppose," Russia replied in a softer tone. Turning a head back to the brunette-haired country, Russia gave him an unsettling grin.
"She'll return to me eventually. She's pathetic in that way. Things will be different, now that I've disciplined her. You can finally take her off my hands."
His cheeks boiled a hot red, and he refused to make eye contact?
Natalya, all to himself? That just didn't click. It never would. She was far from interested in him for too long now. By now he'd think he'd get a hint to stop trying.
Yet...things were different now.
A hand planted onto his shoulder, and Toris jumped. Russia was behind him, his sickly purple aura making him shiver.
"Fetch me two glasses with ice, won't you?" Ivan chuckled, his grip on Lithuania slowly fading away. "I'll pour us a toast to this new and sudden change."
Contorting his face, Lithuania forced down a frown. "I-I'm afraid I'm not one for alcohol, Mr.Russia.".
Before Lithuania could take a step toward the door, Ivan swooped in front of him, wearing that oh-so-terrifying grin of his. "I insist," Ivan hissed through a clenched grin. He slipped out a gentle laugh, making the situation for poor Lithuania even scarier.
"O-of course sir. I shall fetch them as well as a bottle from the winery in the cellar."
Pushing aside Ivan, Lithuania reached for the golden knob on the door and pushed it open.
"Lithuania," Russia called from behind him.
Turning his head toward the Russian, Toris met icy violet eyes.
" I want you to make a phone call as well...."
Handing him a folded piece of paper, Ivan eyed Lithuania carefully.
"I need you to make sure my sister isn't with Alfred..."
Clutching the piece of paper in a shaky hand, Lithuania nodded.
"Of course sir, leave it to me."
The doors to Ivan's study slammed shut, and Lithuania stood alone in the dark, winding hallway of the Braginsky manor.
_______________________________________________________

It was warmer than Alfred had thought.
It felt like spring had finally begun to yield to summer.
He gently slid two turquoise containers held to one another with a rubber band, into an ever so stereotypical woven picnic basket.
More than ever, Alfred had wanted to grill burgers for their little outing today, but he knew he was better than that.
For some odd reason, he felt the need to be much more impressionable on his new "friend". So, his morning was spent throwing together shish kabobs, with sautéd peppers and eggplant, citrusy chicken, fresh tomato, and homemade squares of mozzarella, all together on wooden skewers.
As pathetic as it was, Alfred felt proud of himself for mixing up his daily meal.
Right about now, he would have craved a bag of Cheetos and a burger for lunch, but instead, he had a healthier and possibly even tastier meal to share with Natalya.
He was perhaps embarrassed about his eating style, now that Belarus was here. Guessing she was much more prestige and cultured, he wanted to throw something together to give her a better impression of him.
"Where have you been for the past hour?"
Her voice interrupted his thoughts. Standing at the entrance to the kitchen, Natalya stood in that same Yankees baseball shirt, covering everything down to her thighs. Her hair was tangled in mats, falling behind her shoulders.
"Making food for today," Alfred replied, turning back to the basket and sliding in a couple water bottles alongside the kabobs.
"I went into your room early this morning to check on you, but you were gone."
Feeling tingling and burning blush creep up his cheeks, he forced down a groan. Despite their meaningful conversation last night, he figured she may have changed her ways a bit, and gave him privacy.
He figured that was too much to ask for.
"I was outside on the grill," America sighed, closing the picnic basket.
Sensing the irritation, Natalya slinked back, her cheeks hot red. Playing with a piece of hair, she mumbled, "where are you taking me?".
A smile creeped up Alfred's lips. He couldn't help the sudden excitement of her curiosity. The need to impress her only increased, as he sat there grinning at her.
"Get dressed, and you'll see."
—————
"You see, I've got a knack for this kinda stuff!"
Alfred drones on about his "wild side" in nature, and how could be the next Bear Grylles.
Natalya couldn't get a clue to what Alfred was even talking about, but with a heavy heart, she kept her mouth shut and just listened.
At the peak of noon, the heat only got worse.
Dressed in salmon colored t-shirt, cut down and sewed to fit the small nation, and a pair of jean shorts, Natalya felt her skin boil underneath her clothing. It was only spring, this intense of heat shouldn't come crawling into such a day like this.
"Is it always this hot here in America?" Natalya murmured grouchily, wiping her brow of sweat.
She felt as if her feet were about to buckle underneath her and the stony gravel path that paved through the forest.
"There is such thing as global warming," Alfred pointed out in an amused tone. "My country just happens to get some of that back lash."
In front of her, the American had the picnic basket held in one hand, and a gray hiking backpack slung over his shoulder. Sweat stuck his Indian red colored tank top, to his skin beneath. Gentle features of his pecs seeped through the cloth, making Natalya's stomach lurch.
Reaching up to adjust a tan visor hat atop his locks of hair, he continued his ever so confusing conversation about his survival skills against Mother Nature.
Even if she was a tad annoyed with Alfred's never ending conversations, she was content. It was a gorgeous day, sunlight playing with its display, the branches of leaves helping with its little light show. A grove of ashy birch trees surrounded the gravel path, leading into an incline, up a small rocky hill. It had been at least an hour since the duo had departed from Alfred's home and into the surrounding forest that lay on his property.
"It's nice living in solitary like this," Alfred had assured her. "I get all these hiking paths to myself most of the time."
She could have never imagined a sentence like that coming from the lazy American. He had portrayed himself as the sluggish childish nation he was, who sat around all day and ate junk food. But nature walks, shish kabobs? Was this a small lifestyle hidden beneath all that disgusting capitalism?
This, nonetheless, made the American....slightly more attractive.
Shaking her head, Natalya scolded herself. Despite what he said and who he was, her feelings were going nowhere. Their conversation last night had been eye opening, and a sign to keep these obsessions and feelings...a little more internal.
She still craved the succession from their little bet, for him to finally be hers, but it felt like something attainable for later.
In these moments, if she was just around him, there to hear his cocky little voice and ever so cheesy smile, she could handle herself.
It was better than nothing.
Stopping dead in his tracks, Alfred aggressively shushed Belarus behind her.
In the distance, amongst the long waves of grass, a deer slowly trotted into their line of sight. It was a doe, with gentle swirls of light brown fur and bits of white. It's glassy black eyes met theirs, staying still.
Natalya slowly scooted up closer to Alfred, getting a closer look at the frozen deer. She could see Alfred's features play into an excited grin.
"Wow isn't she just beautiful?" he gasped in awe, as the deer went down to nibble on the grass beneath it.
Sudden angering irony hit Natalya. If only she could be the deer in that moment.
Natalya figures at this point, Alfred would have eagerly whipped out his phone and snapped dozens of pictures like some dumb tourist. But he just stood there, in complete admiration, letting the deer mind its own business. The doe, giving Alfred one last glance, pranced off into the thicket of birches.
Relaxing his body and his features, Alfred gave a low whistle. "Ain't that something, Natty?"
There he goes again, with that stupid nickname. It sounded so casual, with no attraction toward her or the name. Something a friend would call you, not a lover.
"Why didn't you take a picture of it?" Natalya asked, at the edge of a sarcastic tone. Alfred shrugged his shoulders. "The best pictures are taken inside the mind," Alfred grinned, reaching for Natalya's forehead, and poking it with his finger, adding in an unnecessary boop sound effect. Giving her one last shiny grin, Alfred swerved around on his heels and back to the face of the trail.
"Now, back into nature!" Alfred exclaimed, in a comical Australian accent.
As the trail winded, birches gave way to its king, the pines. Bearded moss covered bits of bark, the sickly sweet smell of sap wafting through the air. A whiff of forest scent, balsam and fern, gave the forest an almost storybook atmosphere.
Alfred remained silent for the next half hour, the crunch of gravel beneath his tennis shoes making up for his lost peppy little conversation starters. At this point, she only had her thoughts to keep her company.
She could only admire his figure as he continued to trek the path upon him, his broad shoulders swinging back and forth with his well chiseled arms. She moved her gaze down across his back, stopping at his glut muscles-
Sunlight beamed through a clearing in the trees, and she squinted. Still walking at the normal pace she had kept, she felt herself bump into Alfred, who had abruptly stopped in front of her.
Gazing over his form, her eyes met a whispering creek that carved through a small gathering of grass. The trees around them surrounded the clearing in a small circle, sunlight bouncing atop the shimmering surface of water. The creek gently spilled into a pond, surrounded by cattails bobbing in the wind, a variety of pond grasses making a boundary around the tiny body of water.
Flowers of gentle hues weaved their way through untamed tufts of grass and roots of strong standing pine trees. Natalya could immediately smell sap and pine. The gentle gurgling of the creek and harmonious chirps of the birds among the trees, only added to the beauty of his spot.
This was Alfred spot. His own little world, away from the harsh comments of his upper elders during those long and intense meetings.
It was his own place he could hide, and let himself feel free for once. Despite being the land of the free, Alfred was stuck.
Wading through the long grass, Alfred slowly swung his backpack off his shoulders, clasping it in one hand as the picnic basket bobbed in his other.
"Isn't it something, Natty?" He sighed happily, finding a dirt patch among the sea of grass, and plopping his backup down.
In a trance, Natalya admires the almost fantasy like atmosphere the two had just entered.
Alfred unzipped the backpack, pulling out a bright red flannel blanket. Pushing both the basket and backpack aside, Alfred crouched down into the dirt, and unfolded the blanket, and slowly laid it onto the dirt patch for the two to sit atop.
Plopping the picnic basket on top of the blanket, America stood back up, brushing dirt from his bare knees, and giving Natalya an excited grin.
"Let's dig in whenever you're ready," he stated softly, taking a moment to take in his surroundings and just breathe without a care in the world.
"R-right..." Natalya mumbled, slowly taking a seat atop the blanket. An almost melancholy tune split through the air, as a songbird circled the tree line.
She hoped Alfred would take a seat next her, so she could stare at the those eyes a little longer, and return the gaze.
Alfred turned toward the creek, and tore through the grass, like an excited child.
"Natalya!" He called out to her, stopping to turn around and gesture her towards him.
"Let's go see if we can catch some crayfish!"
Forcing down a sigh, Belarus got up from her comfy spot, and followed Alfred to the edge of the creek. Crouching at the edge, Alfred peered into the clear water, scanning for any movement among the rocks and bed of the creek.
Watching silently over his shoulder, Natalya just stood in silence as America stuck his hands into the cold freshwater.
"Do you have rivers like this back in your country, when everything isn't covered in snow?" America asked the Belarusian, turning his head to meet her eyes.
A sudden wave of anxiety pummeled her thoughts, and she felt like turning back around and watching him from afar.
Those intense yet gentle blue eyes of his just made her dizzy.
"Y-yes," Natalya stuttered. "Me and my sister would go to play at the creeks when we were small children."
Alfred gave her a smile, as if he were relating to her in some way. "Me and Matthew played in lots of rivers and creeks growing up."
She felt herself imagine a small child, that same bouncing cowlick, and muddy hands and feet, darting past her, and diving into the creek, just in front of Alfred. Those two shared that same pair of heart melting sky blue eyes.
"Did you and your sister play a lot together when you were young?" Alfred chuckled, leaning back from the creek, and wiping his wet hands onto his shorts.
"All the time. Yet she was much more popular amongst the village children. Her popularity and looks was the very thing that pulled us apart."
She felt she had shared too much at this point. Dragging a foot through the dirt, Natalya sighed. Alfred let his smile fade, turning back to his reflection in the water.
"I guess that's understandable. Looks and popularity take lots of things away. And I wouldn't say your sister is exactly popular, what grabs everyone's attention is her bo-."
Turning a bright red Natalya felt herself strut forward and lay a hand on his back. He had gone too far, mentioning that certain part of her sister so carelessly.
Without any thought to what he would have said next, she pushed him into the creek.
Alfred toppled over the edge, his glasses slipping into the water beneath him and drifting away into the pond. He fell stomach first into the water, cold droplets splashing onto Natalya's face.
For a brief moment, she saw his face submerge in the creek water, bubbles erupting from his nose.
Her eyes widened, and she felt her body twitch.
What had she just done?!
And with that, Alfred threw his head up from the water, coughing and blinking away water. His hair was dripping wet, his cowlick drooped down into his wet locks of now muddy blonde hair.
He scrambled up onto his feet, his balance swaying about against the slippery rocks.
He teetered back and forth, his arms flailing about. Alfred swerved around to face the scared Belarusian, who stood in utter shock, her hand still out from when she had pushed him.
She desperately searched his eyes for anger, for fear, for disappointment.
She could find nothing.
Panting drastically, Alfred slowly waded through the creek, only a couple feet away from Natalya.
Droplets of water slithered down his dripping locks of hair, his whole body shivering and soaking wet.
That puppy dog look in his eyes, his wet clothes and body, it all just looked so...so unlike him.
Stifling a snort, Natalya felt herself slowly begun to giggle. A smile gradually began to touch at her lips, and she began to laugh. He looked so confused and lost, it was almost amusing. What she did was stupid and uncalled for, but the fact she had just pushed the America, the brave and courageous nation, into a 3 foot creek without hesitation, was plain hilarious.
She continued to laugh, her shoulders bouncing up and down, her face scrunching up with amusement, a grin spread wide across her face.
And there, stopping wet from head to toe, Alfred could only stare at her.
He could only stare at her eyes and her smile, as she continued to laugh, getting close to doubling over onto her back.
His legs trembled, and his cheeks lit up a bright pink. He couldn't take his eyes off of her no matter how hard he tried.
He had never seen her smile and laugh like this. And the sight in front of him...was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.
—————————————————————————————-
Natalya had spent the next thirty minutes wading through the waters of the pond, fishing at the muddy floor for Alfred's glasses.
She had eventually found his glasses in a tangle of cattails, washing up at the shore.
She couldn't stop apologizing, her hands shaking as the two finally sat down on the blanket for their lunch.
She tried not to think much of it, as Alfred had told her many times it was all in a good laugh, and he was far from angry with her. He had even shared a small giggle with her, announcing that she was the "first" person to get him like that.
She knew better to believe in silly little comments like that.
The shish kabobs were laced in a smoky yet sweet flavor, the tomatoes and lemony chicken inside her mouth making her cheeks blush with satisfaction.
Alfred seemed to share the same feelings, as he had scarfed down 3 shish kabobs, reluctant on leaving her the last one.
He was cute in that way, slightly stubborn with small little things like that.
After their peaceful lunch break, Alfred-still damp and cold from his encounter in the creek- quickly packed up their belongings and gleefully grabbed her hand, telling her there was somewhere he wanted to take her, somewhere special.
So they followed the creek up north, the pine trees becoming thicker and larger by the minute.
It really did become a special place in the end.....
Just down the creek, was a small, yet regal waterfall, rocky edges sticking out from the water, a large pond-like body of water surrounding the area.
The gentle roar of the waterfall made Natalya's eyes droop, as she breathed in the crisp air.
Without warning in that moment, Alfred had dropped all of his stuff and slipped off his shoes and socks, jumping into the water.
He was crazy.
That was all she could think, as she couldn't help but follow him into the water.
She had felt angry at him, doing such a thing without warning, but Alfred only proceeded to splash her with a playful banter.
The feeling of that cold water splashing her face lurked in her senses, as Alfred held out a hand to Natalya, as he climbed out from the water, amongst the rocks that were scattered at the edge of the water.
Her clammy cold skin met his hand, and she felt her senses tingle, as if his hand was warm....just like the day this all began.
"I'm sorry, you must be freezing," Alfred chuckled, pulling her from the jaws of the flowing blue water beneath her, and onto the rock.
She plopped down next to him, her body showing sheepishly through her sopping wet shirt.
Natalya took a steady hand to her hair, and gently wrung out any water that still dripped down her hair.
Pushing out a gentle chuckle, Alfred leaned back onto his elbows, and crossed his legs, watching the sky slowly turn into an orangish hue.
The warm evening hair licked at Natalya's face, desperately trying to help warm her face and body.
"I should have probably brought a change of clothes," Alfred sighed. "This shirt is freezing cold."
Grabbing the sides of his shirt, Alfred slowly tugged the wet tank top from his body, lifting it over his head.
Natalya quickly glanced away, her cheeks red from embarrassment. She had seen a flash of skin, his pecs and stomach shining, still wet, against the evening light.
Alfred wrung out the sopping wet tank top, water dribbling down his arms.
Natalya slowly let her gaze once again fall upon his chest, tracing her sight amongst the muscles and redness of his nipples.
She followed his figure down to his side, all the way to his back.
Natalya met the sight of a twisted purple scar that slithered down his back, and against his spine.
She looked away, her thoughts racing.
Alfred turned to her, biting his lip.
"Shit, sorry I shouldn't have gotten all comfy about taking off my shirt," Alfred apologized, placing a hand on her shoulder.
"I-it's not that...". Natalya lifted a shaky finger, pointing at the scar on his back, and shrugging away his touch on her shoulder.
Following the direction of her finger, Alfred met the ugly purple surface of his scar.
His eyes were hard to read in that very moment. He only stayed silent, removing his gaze from his back, and into his reflection in the water.
Natalya could only sit in silence as the sun in the sky slowly cast a spotlight of orange light upon the two, as if this were some cruel sonnet of sorts.
"That scar is kinda old," Alfred finally responded, his voice shaky and low.
Natalya met that same twisted mark on his back, the sunset casting its spotlight on the scarred skin.
"It's split down my back for a reason," he began in a low whisper. "You know the rule quite well. Anything that happens to my country, happens to me."
His voice began to tremble, as if in that moment, Natalya had opened unsealed memories and regrets from deep within his scar. "After the confederates split, the more war broke out, the bigger the scar got. I eventually witnessed my men die on the front lines fighting to defeat the confederates."
America's eyes swirled with regret, as if he could still hear the chorus of gunshots and the boom of the canon and whinnies of the horses.
"It got deep enough where it wouldn't stop bleeding. All I could do was wait pathetically for my men to die....those damned confederate bastards."
His voice was laced in utter guilt, and she could feel him weep on the inside. He had let his country fall apart and split into two. He had this charade where he convinced others his country was united, as if to make up for the lost lives of those brave soldiers who had just fought for that single statement.
Her elegant fingers, reach for that guilt displayed on his back, touching the deformed purple skin that tore down his back.
Alfred flinched at her cold touch, refusing to make eye contact. Her fingertips traced the line of his scar up to his neck and back down.
It wasn't enough. She wanted more out of that touch. As if it were some pitiful way of "healing" that bad memory.
Lifting away her hand, Natalya slowly lifted her shirt off, causing Alfred to double back in shock. She knew he was getting the wrong idea out of this action.
Lifting it up enough for him to only see her stomach, Natalya pointed at a small crooked scar that ran across her skin.
"I got this when the Soviet Union split," Natalya confessed, watching Alfred trace the scar's shape with his eyes.
"My people suffered the consequences, and violence broke out. The scar just kept growing."
Belarus looked up at the American with misty eyes, a smile creeping up her lips. She couldn't recall smiling like this....in a long time.
"The scar stopped when you finally came to save my people."
Alfred thrust a shaky hand toward her stomach, gently touching the faded scar.
His hands were so warm. They were a comforting warmth against her skin. He pressed his palm to her scar, as if to absorb it, to feel it up close. He closed his eyes in thought.
Natalya felt a sudden spark of warmth throughout her body. A stream of relief, of pure understanding surged through Alfred's touch and into her heart.
She shook against that gentle touch, observing every callus, every little scar on his hand.
And here he was, his regrets and bad dreams touching hers.
All through one single touch. Alfred couldn't hold eye contact, his head dropped against his chest, his eyes dropping shut, and his hand drifting away from her stomach.
It was if he had been drained.
They're bond didn't break. She could hear his pleas for help, and his cries of guilt, as if he were ashamed of what she really saw.
Her heart raced, her hand dipping into the water, her fingertips submerged in the deep blue.
And with that, she slowly slid into the water, submerging herself underwater.
She could see Alfred hop up from his position on the rock from the surface as she sank below.
Her feet touched the squishy mud of the bottom, and she bent down, grabbing a handful of mud tightly in her grasp.
Diving back up, the evening light once again hit her face, as she climbed back atop the rock. Alfred stared at her in complete silence, still standing, ready to dive in after her.
Massaging the wet squishy mud in her hand, she leaned closer to Alfred, slowly rubbing the brown substance onto his back, atop his scar. Alfred shuddered at the odd feeling of the mud making contact with his bare back.
She slowly began to cover the deep purple scar in the cold wet mud.
Rubbing at his back one final time, she brought her hand up to his shoulder.
"It's gone," she whispered assuringly. It was pathetic. She knew it was stupid of her to do a little thing like that. What difference would it make?
His hand met hers atop his shoulder, and his strong grasp squeezed her delicate fingers gently.
He said nothing, but his actions said it all.
That same sentence repeated over in her head.
"Thank you Natalya".
_______________________________________________________
Hey everyone! This was well waited I know.
I wanted to pump out a long and meaningful chapter, so here you go guys.
I wanted to release this sooner, but some stuff happened that emotionally left me really stuck and sad.
But I'm in a better head space right now, so I'm going to continue to work on this story and update regularly.
Also y'all, while I wrote this, I watched that crazy ass documentary "Tiger King" and I lost 15 tears of my life WHY IS EVERYONE A FUCKING REDNECK I HATE THEM ALL WITH A DYING PASSION.

I have plot in mind for my next chapter but I still would REALLY REALLY appreciate more little cute ideas please please PLEASE! I took some idea requests from my last chapter and put them in here so TADA! Please please comment ideas, it really helps!
Thanks my germs!
-Jameson