Tears stung in Belarus's eyes as she shut the door. She scolded herself. 'Idiot,' she thought. 'You believed him.' She staggered over to her room, sitting down on the floor amongst the broken glass. She cried quietly, and then chided herself for doing so. She pulled her knees tight to her chest, and her head bobbed down into her hands. She stayed like this for a while.

Lithuania slammed the door open, face red, and looked to see who had been watching Poland and him. At first he fancied that Russia had seen them, but out of the corner of his eye he saw Belarus retreat into her room. The color drained out of his face. Poland stayed in his chair, awkward and speechless, watching Lithuania's back. The latter started to leave after her, but Poland's voice suddenly rang out.

"Liet," he said slowly, "What are you, like, doing?" Lithuania turned his head, his features ashen and anxious.

"I…" Words failed him. "I have to go," He exclaimed. "Now."

Poland was taken aback. "Can't you stay, like, here with…with me?" Lithuania shook his head, and swallowed with some effort.

"…Feliks, I don't… I-"

"You don't what?"

"I don't…like you this way."

The blonde's eyes widened, then turned to the ground.

"Oh."

And on that note, Lithuania left. He tripped over his feet trying to get to Belarus's room as quickly as he could. He tried the doorknob, and found it locked. He rattled it, and then started pounding on the door. "Miss Belarus…" His voice had turned into a whimper. "Miss Belarus, please…" No response. "Belarus…" Silence. "…Natalya…" His head dropped down, his shoulders sagging. He slammed his fist against the door. "Natalya… Natalya please…"

No answer came from her lips. Lithuania was left waiting by the door, looking like ghastly white. He fell to his knees, and then he started to cry, too quietly for her to hear.

Belarus dared not open her door- she didn't want to see him. Her emotions muddled her thoughts- anger, confusion, repulsion, embarrassment, jealousy- jealousy? She surprised herself. She was being childish… overly childish. Never had she thought she'd be tricked so easily like that. She didn't want to face the fact that she had believed something so dishonest! Yes, he had to have been lying. There was no doubt about that. He was leading her on- for what reason? She puzzled it out for a moment, and then came to the most likely conclusion. Amusement. She, the proud warrior, the protector of her brother, and the most ruthless woman in battle….

…used for entertainment. By a man. Not even her brother. She might've forgiven him, but this…

How could she have ever thought she loved that boy?

She had been so silly. It was obvious that he was a liar. And liars should be punished… how could he lie to her? She had trusted him… for once, she had trusted the idiot boy that followed her around like a loyal dog, ready to serve, ready to please…

This was what she thought as she wept into her hands and shook like a leaf.

Russia walked through the hallways. Not in a bad mood, to be honest, but he wouldn't mind kicking someone around at the moment. Moldova? Out. Czech? Out. Slovakia? Out. Estonia? Cooking dinner. Not a good idea to beat him up at this point or there'd be no dinner. Latvia? He was bored of Latvia. He spent all last night making fun of Latvia and crushing down his spine. He wondered if he'd be a midget soon. For a couple of seconds Russia simply stood, content by the thought of Latvia running around with short, stubby legs, and grossly large arms. Russia started to giggle aloud. Giggle. Giggle was really the only word to explain that shrill, piercing, childlike laughter. Somewhere, Moldova cringed. Russia continued to walk with a small spring in his step towards Lithuania's room. That promised fun. Liet, as some called him, was honestly the most entertaining person Russia had ever met. Always apologizing, always so sweet and kind. That was why nothing made Russia happier than to hear him scream and beg for mercy. As he walked, he was met by Poland who ran straight into Russia's stomach and knocked the wind out of him. The blonde screeched and recoiled, and then began to laugh uncontrollably. Russia stumbled while held his abdomen.

Someone would pay for this.

And who better to pay for it than the offender?

After he regained his breath he grabbed Poland by the little ribbon tied around the collar of his shirt and lifted him in the air.

Poland screamed.

Russia gave him a little shake.

Poland continued screaming.

Russia giggled.

And Poland screamed still.

Then, without warning, Russia tossed him into the wall, bored of the screaming that he heard often enough, and Poland, who was rather used to being thrown, simply rolled on the ground, laughing and crying and making a high-pitched hiccupping noise that sounded quite like a dying cat.

Russia's brow furrowed.

"What is this?"

Poland made an attempt at a response, but instead a burst of hysterics sent him twisting violently yet again. Russia thought he looked like a worm, and already bored by the spectacle, moved on down the hallway. The spring in his step was gone, because now, he was really angry. As if he hadn't dealt with enough trouble from his horror-story-gone-bad little sister, now an out of control blonde was running into walls and making unpleasant squeals. Like a pig. Russia had started hating pigs after Animal Farm came out in England. Oh, and did England pay for that. Why couldn't Russia just spend his time hitting Estonia with his laptop? What was so wrong about grinding Moldova's head into the wall until he started bleeding, just a little, little bit? It wasn't like Moldova was getting bald. It was completely harmless. Nothing was wrong with a little kick to the shins every now and then. (Unless it was Russia's shins, for then pandemonium would break out). It was all in good fun. It builds character. He stomped down the hallway like an angry child. Why did people have to be so weird? Why did Poland have to get used to being beat up? Why was nothing fun anymore? He really wanted to just tie someone to the ceiling fan and watch them spin at that point. He didn't like that, because that normally resulted in vomit on his jacket, but he didn't care about his jacket right now. Everything was making him mad. The lack of people to beat up, Poland trolling around like a pig and acting like an idiot, his older sister having a boyfriend, and the fact that English people liked writing evil, propaganda books about him. Vomit on his jacket would be the least of his problems. And he didn't feel like tying Poland to the ceiling fan because he would probably just laugh and squeal like a little girl on a rollercoaster.

Life was changing, Russia realized with a start. It was harder to control his people with propaganda. Nobody was his anymore. He was lucky to have that bit of land so that he could keep watch on Lithuania. He hated capitalism more than ever now. Yes, life was changing, and Russia couldn't stop it. He decided with a heavy heart that he would probably find no one to tie to the ceiling fan, and that he wouldn't have any vomit on him after all.

Hours went by, and Lithuania eventually gave up on getting through to her.

How could he have been so stupid? Why was it that the very day he told Belarus how he felt, Poland had to kiss him? Lithuania hated Poland for his horrible timing and Poland's crush on him. He tried desperately to shift the blame onto Poland, but found it always come back to him.

He really didn't deserve Belarus, did he? And she didn't even like him. She was probably just doing it all to torture him even more. Like she always was, teasing him, stringing him along, then dumping him in a ditch.

Lithuania stood up and walked down the hall, surprised to see Poland leaning against the wall, and said quietly,

"Feliks…I-I…I changed my mind."

(Woof! Sorry this update literally took, like, years. I've been in boarding school! Yeah, hopefully I'll be updating a bit more often.)