Russia X Reader

“When can you come home?” asked a pleading Russia.

“You heard what the doctor said,” you reminded him, “not for another three weeks. Until they are sure.”

“Da, but I want you home now.” You were confined to bed in the local hospital due to the fact you had a weak heart. You had it ever since you were a small child and Russia had taken care of you even before then.

You laughed, he sounded like a little kid again, “Well you’ll just have to wait.”

You both sat in silence, but it was a soothing quiet. There were no sounds, expect the humming of the machines, in the room. It lasted for a while, until he broke it by asking, "(Y/n), is there anything you want?”

“Anything I want?” you asked smiling. “What more could I possibly want? I have you, that’s enough isn’t it?”

“I suppose,” he said sadly, ”but you never think of anything for yourself da? I wanted to do something for you and only you.”

“Better not let Belarus hear you,” you said with a wink.

He sighed. You were always smiling and finding something to laugh about, even in the gravest of situations.  

“Still,” he persisted.

You looked at him for a moment. Your gaze running over every aspect of his face, his sliver hair that was getting a little long and falling in his face, his pleading eyes, his pale skin.  His pale skin, did he get enough sun? Your thoughts wandered and that where you came up with the idea.  “I want to have a garden that’s just bursting into life.” You said smiling at him.

His eyes light up at your request and he stood and kissed your forehead. “Anything for you.” He whispered. The he was gone, gone to grant your wish.

Back At Russia’s House

“That should do it,” he said, brushing his hands off. Russia (the place) was too cold to have a garden year round, so instead he had a green house built into the side of the house. Strong enough to stand against the weather, but thin enough so the sun could shine though.

Russia glance around him, he had three weeks; that was plenty of time to make a garden. He began working that very day. He laid out what was going where and got all the supplies. He designed it so from a bird’s eye view the layout would be a giant flower. In the center he had a white bench ready. He laid down the soil and began planting. He worked all day everyday. He made sure everything was watered and weeded.  Before he knew it two weeks and six days had pasted in no time.

“It’s almost done love,” he said, sitting by your bedside.

“I’m glad,” you laughed and rubbed a bit of dirt form his cheek. “You didn’t strain yourself, did you?” you asked worriedly.

“It was all for you, I felt nothing,” he reassured you. You smiled and told him about how a nice old lady had played chess with you every other day and about all the other happenings in the hospital.  He just sat there taking it in and watching your face. You were the best thing that ever happened to him. You were always smiling and nothing ever got you down, not even the thought of being confined to bed for weeks. He slid his hand into his coat pocket and felt the reassuring object inside.

Next Day

The next day Russia was early waiting for you to be released form the hospital… that was he was three hours early. He could barely want for you to come home. When you were finally released the doctor smiled and said, “I can tell someone is glad your going home.”

“Da!” Russia replied instantly.

You laughed, you clear wonderful laugh, and agree, “Da, I’m glad to be going home as well."

At Home

“Close your eyes,” he warned.

“All right, all right,” you said, closing your eyes.

“Okay, hold on.” he said and scooped you up in his arms as easily as if you were made of air. You yelped in surprised, but kept your eyes closed.

He carried you a short distance until his paused. “Want me to get down?” you asked.

“No,” he said, “ I’m just opening the door.”

What door? You wondered, but kept quiet as he continued walking. The walk was even shorter than the first. He carefully set you down and told you to keep your eyes shut.

“Okay, open them,” he said.

You opened your eyes and gasped. You clapped your hands to your mouth and whispered, “Oh, Russia.” It was beautiful. Flowers bloomed everywhere, even though it was winter. And there was a soft cushioned bench where you could read in the center. Without realizing it tears were flowing down your cheeks.

“Is something wrong?” Russia asked, worry filling his eyes.

You just shook you head. “No, nothing is wrong. It’s just... It’s just it’s more beautiful than I could ever image.”

“I’m glad, because,” he took your hand in his and knelt to one knee, and pulled a white velvet box form his coat pocket, “I wanted it to be the perfect place to ask you to marry me. So will you? Will you marry me (y/n)?”

You stared at him and then smiled that smile he loved. “Of course!” He stood and you hugged him.

“I'm so happy,” he said.

“Me too.”

“(Y/n)?”

“Hmm?”

“Let’s get married here, just the two of us.”

You looked up at him and said, “I wouldn’t want it any other way.”