Little games, nonsensical Murders about their wedding day evening, descriptions of vanilla laced and violet frosted wedding cakes, it all made Alfred's head spin at a 100 miles per hour.
His eyes drooped, begging the miserable American for a moment of rest. But if he stopped listening to the Belarusian babble on about her whimsical little dreams, he'd have to pay an unnamed price. It was simply common sense, and survival at this point.
The two sat across from one another at the kitchen table, a small little mason jar placed at the center. In the jar, messy and folded slips of paper were crammed inside, others opened slips lying next to the jar, already read.
A newly opened slip of paper was held between Natalya's long candlestick fingers, as her face lit up with excitement.
This was Belarus' little "bonding" game she so "shrewdly" thought up. Each person would draw a slip of paper from the jar, and ask the reciproca a question that needed to be answered.
Her lips pressed together, her freshly applied lipstick smacking wetly.
"How many children would you want, dear muž?"
Oh bother...
As if things weren't awkward enough, she proposed yet another chancy scenario.
"I-I'm sorry what...?" Alfred chocked, shifting uncomfortably in his chair. This question made the rope burns on his body seem like nothing compared to how uncomfortable he felt right now.
"You heard me Alfred," Natalya giggled, folding the slip of paper in half, and gently placing it on the table, and sliding it toward him. What good would it do to try and pick it up-he was fucking tied up.
"Why don't you answer the question, Ameryika."
He gulped, his hands and face clammy with sickness.
God, that question had to be the worst one of all of them.
Not only did it assert that they we're to become that dedicated, but it also proposed that they'd get to engage in sex.
He was thinking too hard on the notion. It was just a silly question. All he had to do was to appease Natty and he'd be fine. He could devise a plan later. But right now, it was about keeping his head on his shoulders, and not end up dead.
He swallowed, his Adam's apple quivering.
"I-I suppose...one kid..."
God he was ready to puke.
Natalya presented her ever so infamous Cheshire grin. He didn't like where this was going. He almost laughed. Fuck he didn't like where any of this was going. He had to be the most unlucky person in the whole universe right now. He had to be the one that Belarusian fell for.
And with that, the American promised himself to apologize to Russia, finally knowing what that icy bastard went through for all those years.
No...he already made himself a promise. He was going to help her and turn her onto a different path. He just wasn't excepting things to go this way at all.
"I would love five little dzieci, running about, to play with their dear loving papa."
Nope, he wasn't doing this.
He gagged, avoiding eye contact. One child would be enough to drive him insane, but five, that's a whole nother ball park. And not to mention, five rounds of sex to get this result- he just couldn't think about it.
He didn't know why he was so caught up on the side subject of sex in this already  anguishing conversation. He supposed it was the dedication behind it, the love and passion of two lovers going down on one another in the bedroom.
I mean, any man would be thrilled at the mention of sex, as most teens and even some adults are mad horny.
But not Alfred F Jones. Intercourse was too much dedication to a relationship he didn't want to have. Especially not with Bela-.
With the rare occasion of masturbation and a glance at porn, America didn't bother with any form of sexual activity. It wasn't fulfilling or appealing to him in the least.
Natalya could read him like an open book, because she wore her intimidating little smirk.
"Are you a Virgin, Alfie?"
That was it. He was officially set off.
He squirmed in his chair and lightly groaned, feeling as if he was going to upchuck all of his internal organs.
'Change the subject, change the fucking subject' he screamed to himself.
"W-why don't I read the next question..." Alfred sighed, biting his lip. Natalya replaced the smirk with a warm gentle smile. Damn...if he wasn't in this situation, he'd stop and admire that glance of sunshine. It felt like he could taste birthday cake and lemony sweet flowers. That smile was gorgeous.
He just wanted to read the card and get this over with.
Reaching into the mason jar, Natalya fished out yet another slip of paper, and unfolded it, sliding it across the table to America.
Tempted to roll his eyes, Alfred breathed through his nose, his nostrils flaring.
He read the slip of paper aloud.
"What are some of your wedding traditions in your country?"
He was ready to hurl. He didn't care if she got mad, he was fucking done.
Natalya's eyes shimmered delicately with excitement, as if nostalgia had suddenly began pulling through her veins.
"Oh what a wonderful question," she chirped excitedly, brushing her bangs from her face away.
"At the break of morning, everyone is to meet at the bride's house if you were invited by her, or the groom's house, if you were invited by him. Eventually, the groom's friends join with the bride's group. Next, the groom is to prove his love and show his passion toward his bride."
Her eyelashes fluttered as she sighed lovestruck. "He may do many things, such as spell her name out in money, drinks from three cups of sweet sour and salty to  show the life he obtains. After this, the tamada begins. He or she announces the guests. As for the wedding, as the bride walks to the church, she ties a towel around her hand and lets it drag behind her, making a path for her married life. Additionally, we use a padnozhnik, in which the bride and groom stand on as they say their vows."
This was ridiculous. God, a towel was so important in all of this? This notion was quite entertaining.
"That sounds stupid.." Alfred croaked. He snapped his eyes shut.
God, he has to think before he speaks.
Instead of an angry remark, she responded with a small laugh.
"Oh really? Then what do you Americans do?"
"We just get hitched, that's all that's to it. In a church or at the beach, wearing whatever kind of suit or dress you want," Alfred laughed.
She rested her chin on her hands and gleefully sighed.
"Perhaps we could get married on the beach then," Natalya giggled, staring at the American with eyes, misty with love.
He didn't know why he snapped here, he may never know. But he knew one thing for certain. He was done with her little games.
He threw a kick at Natalya's leg from underneath the table. It was incredibly childish to pull a move like this, but what other choice did he have? He was angry and he couldn't do much tied to a chair.
Natalya's eyes widened and she frowned.
"What was that for?" She growled, slowly rising from her chair. Right about now, Alfred would remark to himself on what a dumb idea this was, but he just wanted to show her he was finished with her little shenanigans.
"I'm through playing your games," Alfred hissed, sweat running down his brow.
Belarus slowly took a seat back in the chair, and sneered at him.
"We're not done yet, dear. Bonding has just begun," she said, with a heavy tone to her already intimidating voice.
"I don't know what planet you're on right now Natty, but this is wrong in every way. This is a hostage situation! You know you can get in a hell lotta trouble holding me hostage."
A vein popped up against Belarus' porcelain skin, as she balled her fist, and clenched her jaw.
"Finish the damn game," Natalya hissed through clenched teeth.
"No," Alfred retorted.
Natalya slammed her fist against the table, the mason jar rattling and ripping over.
"You will listen to me!" Belarus screeched.
"You are mine, and I have authority over you!"
Absolutely not. No one owned America. Not since 1776. No way in hell was he gonna let another country grab hold of his freedom. Especially not a woman! He was a proud nineteen-year-old , single virgin who ate like shit, and he wanted to keep it that way, damnit!
Alfred flung himself backwards, the chair tipping over and hitting the floor with a bang. Natalya jumped from her seat, as America wriggled about on the floor, a pathetic attempt at freeing himself.
'Shit, shit' Alfred shouted in his head, swinging his head about, wriggling against the ropes.
Natalya tore towards Alfred and towered above him.
"Stop!" She screamed, seizing him by his shoulders.
It was now or never. With no decency left in his head, Alfred snagged some of the waterfalls of hair that spilled down her shoulder with his teeth. She cried out in an alarmed state. With all his might, America tugged at the hair, swinging his head back. She screamed, and toppled down on top of him.
With their faces inches apart, and her breasts pressing against his chest, Natalya seized him by the neck, and began to squeeze.
"You little shit!" She exclaimed, strangling him. Choking and shaking for air, Alfred thrashed about.
'The knife,' he panicked to himself. 'The kn-knife should be in her dress..'
Adrenaline pumping through his veins and the limited arm movement he had against the ropes, Alfred shot his arm out and seized her thigh. Natalya let out an alarmed huff, but continued to strangle him, irritation running through her blood.
Feeling about, he reached into her thigh high leggings, and felt his hands rest on the grip of a blade. Without a thought to spare, he tugged it from her legging, gripping tightly to the handle.
Before Natalya could react, the blade crossed her cheek, and she released her grip, clutching her cheek in shock, kneeling to the ground. Quick to work, Alfred flipped the knife into his other hand, and began to cut at the ropes. With each snap, his breaths got shorter. Eventually, he was able to sit up, the ropes breaking away. His mind was raising, head dizzy with adrenaline and relief. Gripping the knife, he jumped to his feet, throwing it into the ground. The knife jammed into the kitchen tiles, on one of the folds of Natalya's dress.
That'd keep her busy. He knew how much she loved that dress, and how she wouldn't even dare to ruin it. Barely taking a moment to absorb his surroundings, he tore down the hall, sweaty feet pounding against the floorboard, cold air hitting his bare chest, his face clammy with fear.
"Please Alfie!" Natalya screamed from the kitchen.
"Please don't leave me!". He heard stuttering sobs, lurching guiltily at his stomach.
He had to keep running, he was so close. The door was just at the end of the hall. He just had to keep running.
"I'm sorry Ameryika, please come back, please come back!"
He stood at the door, his chest heaving for air.
"Please don't leave me Alfie, I love you, please don't leave me alone!"
His hand trembled, shooting for the doorknob, twisting it open.
"Please Alfie, Please."
Her sobs hurt his head as they rang like some sick twisted symphony, as if to mock him.
The door slowly swung open, the afternoon air welcoming his sweaty face.
"Please, oh please don't leave me! I'll never do that again, just please don't leave me all alone!"
He did it. He was free. He could run, he could get help, this nightmare would be over.
He fucking finally did it.
He just had to run.
"Please don't leave me!
Please don't leave her.
Please don't leave her there.
Please don't watch him undress her.
Please don't watch him hurt her.
Please don't hurt her.
Please don't run away.
With a soft thump, Alfred closed the door, the afternoon light dimming away from him, as he was left in the darkness of the hall.
———————
Authors Note: I was feeling better today, so I decided to throw in another chapter, despite announcing I'm gonna go on a tiny hiatus.
Yes, this is gonna be the last chapter for a bit until at least the end of March. I'm flying into Germany in two weeks now so I'm gonna be very occupied for 10 days. So bear with me. My publishing schedule will go back to normal after April, and when my mental health starts to improve.
So was this chapter okay? IDK germs I'm a tad rusty on writing rn. So, I drew some inspiration from Koichi and Yukako from JOJO Diamond is Unbreakable to help with today's chapter. Both of these couples just give off the same vibe I just—
I also drew inspiration from the show "The Act", and if you don't know what this show is, it's about the Gypsy Rose Blanchard case, it's a fantastic TV show- NOT fantastic on what happened in the case tho, duh-
But that one scene where Gypsy stands at the door, when she has the opportunity to escape, is what really called to me. So yeah here's this month's chapter....
FYI- I didn't mean for that fight scene to seem sexual it WASNT, Alfred was fighting for his life.
Sorry this isn't too long,I'm workin on it!!
Okay, cheers
Jameson