:~RussiaxReader: The Snow Storm~:

It was blistering cold. A light snow storm was passing through the city of Moscow, the capital of Russia. For a normal person, they would crank up their heat and bundle up in their thickest blankets and jackets. But, for the locals of Moscow, this was just another typical Wednesday afternoon. Even though you and your family weren’t from Russia, you still embraced the storms and loved them. It did take your family a few months to get used to the sub-zero temperatures. Being a girl at the budding age of 11, you loved the feel, look, and smell of the snow. The soft, white flakes that blanketed your front yard were simply gorgeous. But, today was different. Today you wished that the snow would let up for once.

You were walking home from the local market to get some food that your mother had sent you to get, and the storm was hitting its peak when you started walking home. Your snow boots did little job at keeping your feet warm, given the snow was about four feet tall and you were just about to peak five feet. Snow clung to your heavy parka and the jeans you foolishly wore, thinking you would be home before the storm got too bad.

“Oh man, I think I’m lost,” you whispered to yourself, your voice shaking from how cold you were. You knew you were lost when you noticed that you were in a wooded place. The bright side was, the snow was barely falling because of the trees. But, the bad news was; now you didn’t know how to get home. You felt like crying, but you knew that wouldn’t help the situation you were in.

With no other idea in mind, you just pressed on, hoping that you would stumble out of the woods. Instead, you just stumbled onto a large snow covered field.  It looked vacant and empty, and you sighed with sadness. You had hoped to come across someone so you could get directions out of here. Almost all hoped had left you, until you heard the faint breathing of someone nearby.

“H-Hello? Is anyone here?” you asked in a small voice, taking a step or two into the field, scanning your eyes around. You stopped when you noticed a small lump in the snow. It wasn’t just a lump, but a person. You concluded this when you saw his chest rise. Being cautious, you approached the person. He appeared to be sleeping, but instead of waking him up, you examined him. He looked to be a year or two older than you, maybe more. He wore a long tan coat that went down to about his knees and dark green pants. He also wore thick brown gloves and brown boots. A light purple scarf was wrapped securely around his neck. His face was round, and had a childish look to it and his hair was a light beige-blonde color. You blinked once as you took him more of his appearance. You had never seen him around your village before, so you assumed that he may also be lost. In desperate need of someone to talk to, you dropped down to your knees and gently shook the boy. It didn’t take much for him to wake up.

“Huh, what?” the boy murmured, his eyes fluttering open. You moved back a bit when he sat up, rubbing his eyes and yawning quite loudly.

“A-are you o-okay?” you asked, your voice cracking for whatever reason. After a few blinks, the boy looked at you with the most beautiful purple/violet eyes you have ever seen. Since he didn’t say anything, but stare at you, you felt reluctant to ask another question. “W-who are you? I-I never see you a-around the village,”

The boy dusted the snow off of his coat. “My name is Ivan. Ivan Braginski. Who are you?” you could definitely pick up the Russian accent quite easily. You felt a lump form in your throat, just before you could respond back with your name. Why can’t I say anything? “Who are you, da?” Ivan repeated, in the same tone he used before. His face showed no expression, but you could tell by his eyes that he was getting a little impatient.

“M-my name is _______ _______,” you finally managed to get out, relieved in yourself. Ivan cocked his head to the side.

“I’ve never heard of that name. Are you a new country?” this took you quite a bit back. What’s he talking about? Is he joking? Is this a game he’s playing with me? You blushed and shook your head.

“A country? Why would you think I was a country? I mean, I’m a person. Just like you,” you said, looking anywhere but at him. Ivan tried to get you to make eye contact with you by moving to wherever your eyes went, but you would just look away, and he would follow. This continued until Ivan just sighed and plopped down in the snow.

“I’m not a person. I’m Russia, da,” said Ivan with much confidence in his voice. He has to be crazy. No person can be a country. You shook your head again, refusing to believe what he was saying.

“I-I don’t believe you. People can’t be countries,” you denied. Ivan pouted and pursed his lips in annoyance. I should have never even bothered with him. He just made my whole problem worse. You felt your eyes moisten, but you desperately wiped them away. You refused to cry in front of a total stranger that was trying to play tricks on you.

“I’m not a person though. I’m a personification of a country, this country. I might be small now, but I’ll soon be big and strong. Stronger than any other country, da,” Ivan said to you, hoping you would believe him.

“W-why are you telling me all this? I mean, you don’t even know me,” you asked, pulling your grocery bag of food closer to your chest. Ivan fiddled with his scarf for a full minute before responding back to you.

“I don’t know, da,” he shrugged, “Maybe because you’re the only person that isn’t afraid of me. Every time I try to talk to someone or even walk up to someone, they get scared and run away from me. You’re different though, da. You actually walked up to me first,” Ivan explained, finally making eye contact with you. You blushed and looked away, biting your lip. Wh…what do I do? Do I get up and leave? Do I finally just give in and believe what he’s saying? I kind of feel bad for him…..

“Why are they scared of you?” you asked.
Ivan shrugged again. “I don’t know, maybe because they think I’m mean or something,” he sighed and pulled his knees to his chest and hugged them, looking down at the snow.

“But, if you’re the personification of their country, they should have a utmost respect for you, right?” you couldn’t believe that you were going along with this, but you pretty much didn’t have any other choice.

“That’s what I thought, but I guess everyone thinks I’m a walking time bomb. It’s pretty stressful, da,” he sighed out, dragging a finger through the snow. You huffed.

“Well, I think everyone is stupid. They can’t judge you like that, especially when you have such a burden on your shoulders, being a country and all,” you said in an annoyed tone. It did make you a little upset knowing that people were judging Ivan, when they have no idea what he has to deal with in his life. “People are so mean. They don’t understand what it’s like being in your shoes,” Ivan smiled faintly at you, and you smiled back.

“Thank you, da. You’re not like other people. You’re……nice,” he said the word “nice” as if it was a foreign word to him. He must not use that word very often. Even though you were still skeptical on believing what he was saying about being a country, but you did believe that he was just lonely and in need of a friend. That’s something you would more than happy give to him; friendship. In the distance, you heard your mother’s call for you. You were overjoyed on how close to home you were, but you didn’t want to leave Ivan alone. He, also hearing your mother call your name, nodded and smiled at you.

“It’s okay, da. You need to go home. I’ll be okay,” he said to you, standing up and helping you to your feet. This is first you had seen him standing, and you noticed how tall he was for the age he looked, which you just guessed was 14.

“If you want, though, I can meet you here tomorrow and you can tell me more about yourself, Ivan,” you said, before walking in the direction of your mothers’ calls. Ivan nodded and waved at you goodbye.

“I would like that very much, _______, Dasvidania,”

You smiled back at him and waved as well, “Dasvidania,” and with that, you disappeared out of the field and headed home, admiring the falling snow in a whole new perspective.