The meeting hall was too loud. Chairs scraped against the floor, papers shuffled, voices overlapped in three different languages at once. Nations clustered in uneven groups, arguments starting and stopping before they could go anywhere useful.

You stood near one of the long tables, half-turned away from the center of the room.

Lithuania stood in front of you, shoulders tense but expression still respectful in fear of pissing off what’s Russia’s. America leaned against the table nearby, grinning, interrupting occasionally just to hear himself talk.

You happily chatted, almost as unaware as Russia usually is about the sudden tension in the air. A big shadow covered you from behind, making Lithuania falter mid-sentence, his voice trailing off as he looked up at the country towering over you.

”Kolkolkolkol…”

Russia stood there, pipe casually in his hand, violet eyes matching the purple aura that mysteriously conjured up around him. “Ah,” he said. “You are all very noisy today.”

The moment you faced him, the tension shifted like it was never there in the first place. His smile brightened as he patted your head.

“…Moscow,” he said, suddenly happy. “There you are.” His hand slid around your wrist before you could answer. “You were talking… for a very long time, да?”

Lithuania took an unconscious step back. America already slipped away, back to England and France. Russia glanced at them briefly.

“I take her now!” he said cheerfully. You barely had time to react before you were dragged away from the table, Russia’s grip steady as he steered you down the side of the hall. Chairs scraped as nations shifted out of the way.

He didn’t slow until you were well clear of the others. Only then did he turn to you, his hand slid down from your wrist to hold your hand.

“…Why do you talk to other nations?” he asked, tilting his head. “You are very friendly today.”

You stepped closer without thinking, fingers curling into his coat. You were always clingy with him; it was something that made Russia even more possessive of you. He blinked before putting a large hand on your back.

“That is better, my little sunflower!” He leaned down slightly, presence closing in, blocking out the hall behind him. “You are one with Mother Russia, да?” he said, gently, as if reminding you of something very simple. “Moscow does not need to talk so much with other nations.”

His grip tightened just enough to be noticed.

“I do not like it,” he continued thoughtfully. “It is not necessary at all. You are mine so you should be with me all the time…” Russia’s eyes lifted, drifting past you toward the other nations. “They should already know this,” He actually pouts this time. “I explain it many times.”