An Auld Love Chapter 2
As France picked out his outfit for the conference that morning, for once he was not entirely focused on his appearance. He just couldn’t get that voice in Scotland’s hotel room out of his head. He was positive he knew that voice but he couldn’t place it.
Maybe it was Russia. The large, unstable nation had more than once tried (very clumsily) to get into Scotland’s good books again but he had always failed miserably.
France still remembered when Scotland first started seeing Russia. It was at a conference between countries concerning the distribution of the world’s fish and since Scotland was one of the foremost producers of fish he had to be there.
The redhead had stared at the large nation all through the meeting and when it ended with Russia becoming Scotland’s third largest customer in the fishing industry, the redhead stood up and started to go towards Russia. At first France thought he was just going to say hello but when Scotland pulled back his fist and connected it directly with Russia’s jaw the entire room felt a simultaneous wave of terror sweep through them.
What in the holy hell was Scotland thinking? Sure Scotland was an accomplished fighter and contrary to what England would like to believe and a lot of other people in the world might think, he had never been conquered. Even the mighty Roman Empire had not managed it but Scotland’s specialty was Guerrilla warfare, hit and run tactics and land advantage.
The reason Scotland had been so successful in a lot of battles was because they were fought on home ground where he could make use of his hills and trees and bridges. This is what made him a great warrior and sure he was good at hand to hand combat too but he didn’t have a prayer at beating Russia.
What in the hell was he thinking?
As expected the fight lasted less than five minutes. Scotland made use of his tactical mind to get a few good hits in here and there but though the blows made bruises and drew blood they did little but further enrage the Russian.
Russia had his hands around Scotland’s throat and had thrown him onto the conference table growling down at him menacingly. France thought he saw a slight flash of fear makes its way through Scotland’s eyes but the redhead didn’t turn away. Instead he opened his mouth and said, “Feel better big man?”
Then, as if he had seen something he had not laid eyes on for a long time, Russia removed his hands from Scotland’s throat where bruises were already being to form, and stood back to look at the smaller nation.
Russia turned and marched out of the room and Scotland, as if unconcerned for his own safety (as always, France thought) followed him.
It was not long after that that it was clear that Scotland and Russia were involved in something more than just trade. If anyone so much as looked at Scotland, Russia would put his arm around the redhead’s waist none too gently. The latter would always shake him off, annoyed but it was clear as always Scotland liked the attention. He was always a very loud nation especially after he entered into his union with his brother. It was clear that he would not allow people to forget him.
France stared at the shirt he had picked out for the conference and as he put it on he thought, ‘Could it be Russia?’
No it couldn’t, if it was Russia there was little chance Scotland would have answered the phone. Either he would have been busy having (extremely rough) sex with the violent nation or he would be passed out from the activity.
And even if that wasn’t the case, Russia never let Scotland answer his phone anyway. Scotland ended up punching him for that more than a few times (thankfully with no severe repercussions), he didn’t like being dictated by anyone.
Even so Russia was larger and stronger and didn’t like the redhead talking to other nations no matter what the reason might be so if Russia was the one in bed with Scotland it would have been he who answered the phone.
No it wasn’t Russia.