Russia sat at the bar on one of the stools at the counter, his golden eyes piercing as his expression was stoic yet showed exhaustion after a long day. He ordered vodka, yet when the bartender handed him a shot, he simply grabbed the whole bottle and started chugging it. The bartender rolled his eyes, not wanting to upset a powerful country by commenting on their chugging and simply walked away. He was quite intimidating, with a tall muscular build and stern gaze.

Russia placed the bottle down, wiping leftover vodka off his lips, just wanting to forget the day over alcohol. He looked down with a stern expression, as always. Dark lines showing under his eyes by the dim light of the bar. He took off his hat wool hat, feeling the soft material underneath his fingertips. As if the feeling was his only grip of reality at the moment as the alcohol slowly relaxed his nerves