#doodlewrites

The morning greets you with soft sunlight filtering through the window shades, the muffled chirping of birds outside making you stir. You tug on the blankets to pull them around yourself, only for someone to pull them back.

“You’ve nearly slept all morning,” Came a murmur from behind you. You can’t help but smile.

“I wouldn’t mind sleeping a little more,” You yawn. Shadow slips his arms around your waist, his nose nuzzling your shoulder. 

His voice is gravely from sleep. “Would Breakfast be a good enough reason to wake up? It is my turn to cook, after all.”

You shift, rolling over to face him. His hand slips down onto your hip. “Not that I wouldn’t enjoy holding you for the rest of the day,” He admits.

Heavy footsteps soon reassured Matthew that someone was coming, the sound of at least three locks clicking before the door cracked open.  After a passing moment the door opened more to reveal the Russian in question.

"Uh? Hello?" The large man greeted. He looked groggy- hair tussled, eyes fighting to stay open from the light and wind. He wore a heavy sweater and jeans, both wrinkled as it looked like he'd been sleeping in them. The uncomfortable vibe Russia gave off caught Matthew off  guard, making him stumble on his words for a moment before quickly speaking up.

"I-I uh- I accidentally got my suitcase mixed up with yours, and I kind of need my stuff," Matthew replied, holding out the suitcase to Russia. The man stared for a moment, trying to compute in his sleepy-state. He soon gave a quick 'oh' and opened the door more, reaching out and snagging the suitcase.

"Da, in," Replied the man as he moved into the room to fetch Matthew's suitcase, Matthew relieved as he stepped in hesitantly, the wind forcing the door closed behind him with a loud slam. Matthew jolted, Russia seeming not to notice as he shuffled around the bed and picked up the suitcase beside it, Matthew waiting patiently and glancing around the room while he was at it.

The blankets were a bit messy on the bed, a pillow on the floor. A larger suitcase meant for traveling was in the corner, left open. Matthew was a little shocked to see that the Russian was so messy, but decided to brush it off as him being exhausted like Matthew was. He knew he'd enjoy tossing his things in a corner and laying down for a nap.

"Are these your things?" Questioned Russia as he brought the suitcase closer to Matthew, setting it open on the side of the bed. Matthew stepped over, keeping a bit of distance from the Russian as he moved a few note books around.

He paused for a moment.

"No," He sighed exasperatedly. "These belong to America, he probably has my suitcase," Matthew murmured as he set Russia's suitcase down on the floor.

"Oh, how unfortunate," The larger nation replied. Matthew could do nothing but nod as he tried to remember where Alfred was staying.

"...Can I use your phone?" Matthew soon asked reluctantly, not wanting to stay too long but not wanting to be stuck in the snow trying to find a payphone. He could already hear the snow plows at work in the parking lot.

Russia looked just as unsure but soon pointed out a land-line in the corner on a table.

"That would probably work best in this weather," He replied. Matthew nodded, giving a curt 'thank you' as he headed over, making sure not to go near Russia's things. He took the old cord phone and dialed up Alfred, hearing Russia moving around on the other side of the room.

"Yo! Who's this?" Chirped the familiar American on the other end.

"Alfred, its me, can you-"

"Aha dude I totally tricked you! leave a message after-"

Matthew hung up before the recording could finish, feeling like pushing the whole thing off the table. He contained himself, chewing at the inside of his cheek instead. 'Right, he's in a meeting, probably not a very progressive meeting without his suitcase,' He thought glumly.

"That's a bad habit, da?" Russia was at his side and lumbering over him, his voice catching Matthew off guard. He fought to stifle a gasp, turning abruptly to face him.

"Huh??" He stammered as he set the phone down quickly, the Russian intimidating him- Matthew couldn't tell if he meant it or not.

"The gnawing, you're going to ruin that mouth of yours that way," Matthew touched a hand briefly to his own cheek, surprised that the man had caught him doing so.

"oh- uh, y-yeah, I guess I can't help it," Matthew replied cautiously, the Russian about to reply but was interrupted by a muffled cracking noise.

Both nations paused, looking  towards the doorway where the noises came from. A loud crack sounded before the door was pushed inwards by snow, door's hinges breaking.

Matthew yelped and stumbled back a step, Russia jolting but not budging from his spot. The snow was piled higher than the doorway, stuffing it.

Once the snow stopped tumbling in, Matthew backed up more while Russia approached slightly.

"...Whoever is out there ran the snow plow into the building," Russia breathed after a moment. Matthew couldn't read his face well, but thought he saw a hint of curiosity in his features, though he slowly fell to a flat look. Matthew was a bit unsettled by these emotions, used to seeing the frightening Russian who expressed things childishly. This man seemed more bored and tired than childish.

It took Matthew a moment to realize Russia was looking for a response. "I-I did see a guy out there earlier," He slowly neared the snow as well, hearing a car door slam and two bickering people. Without a doubt it was the woman from the front desk and  whoever drove the snow plow.

Matthew caught Russia shudder from the slight cold that came from the snow, backing off. "This is going pleasant," came his murmur as he plucked his coat from the chair, Matthew looking over the pile of snow.

"Don't you have super strength?" Matthew asked, Russia tilting his head.

"Don't you?"

"...No," Came Matthew's sheepish reply.

Russia stared, tilting his head. "I'd thought that someone with the same economic strength as America would have the same if not more strength, da?" He hummed curiously.

"Well, I don't, I guess a little but not enough to move the snow," Explained the Canadian as he looked over the flooded doorway.

"I would move it, but last time I checked, your average human can't move snow and broken building on their own," Russia hinted, Matthew soon catching on and nodding. Flaunting around super-human abilities wasn't the best idea, last thing they needed was the media freaking out over a man plowing out of a broken building like it was made of butter.

"Right... Uh, how are we going to get out, then?" Matthew asked, starting to look around for any other doors or a window. Russia shrugged absentmindedly, taking a seat on the bed.

"Our only exit is blocked, so we wait," He answered with a smile, the immature nature slowly returning, sending a cold shudder down Matthew's spine. He didn't like the sound of that.

The ring of the phone made Matthew jolt again, still on edge. Russia stood and strode over, answering.

"Hello?" He greeted in a formal tone, his expression showed his strain to keep professional. He listened for a long moment, Matthew unable to hear what was being said but could tell the woman on the other end was fighting not to sound nervous but failed. She probably expected a law suit if anyone was hurt.

With 'yes's and 'no's Russia tried to get through the conversation as swiftly as possible. His eyes suddenly narrowed and the glare he sent the wall was enough to make Matthew quiver.

"Da," He soon muttered, his business tone faltering with irritation. Matthew averted his gaze from him as Russia ended the conversation, hanging up stiffly.

"...We will be stuck here for the night," He explained, Matthew feeling the blood drain from his face. He gave a soft 'oh,' Russia leaving it at that as he trailed over to the bed and took a seat, opening his suitcase to make sure everything was there.

Matthew stood there awkwardly for a long moment, unsure where the 'boundaries' were. He took a wild guess that it was ok to sit in one of the two loungers, taking Alfred's suitcase and sitting down.

He set it on his lap, opening it up. The inside was messy, but nothing chaotic, his brother organized enough to know that he needed to keep his work clean. A quiet buzzing caught his attention, Matthew moving some papers and finding Alfred's phone going off.

He snatched it up quickly and answered it without thinking. "Hello??"

"Mattie!" Gasped the voice on the other end, so loud that Matthew jerked the phone away from his head.

"A-Alfred jeez don't blow out my eardrum," The younger replied, Alfred butting in right after.

"Where are you!? You've got all my stuff man I had to cut my meeting short and everything!" He babbled. "I've been searching this hotel top to bottom but they keep saying you never showed up!"

"I never did," Matthew sighed, knowing he'd have to deal with whatever mess Alfred left for him there later. "You mixed our suitcases with Russia's. He had yours, I had his and you've got mine, I'm at his hotel room right now," Matthew explained but bit his tongue soon after.

"What!?" Matthew expected the shout, thankfully pulling the phone away before he could loose hearing. He switched sides with the phone and hushed Alfred.

"I thought he had my stuff! I couldn't get into the hotel without my key," He explained.

"Well, he doesn't, so come get your stuff here," Alfred nearly growled.

"Uh...."

" 'Uh'?"

"I can't leave... A plow shoved snow in the front door so we're stuck until tomorrow,"

Silence dragged on for a moment before Matthew spoke up.

"No, you're not coming to get us out,"

"Mattie, you can't stay there!" Came Alfred's furious whisper-yell, not wanting Russia to hear him.

"You can't just run over here and superman-lift the snow away!" Argued Matthew with a frown. "Trust me, we already talked about that,"

Alfred garbled words on the other end, trying to think. Once he stopped, he scoffed, Matthew able to hear him stomping as he walked.

"You call me if ANYTHING happens, ANYTHING!" Alfred barked, Matthew rolling his eyes.

"You got it, 'mom'," His reply came more casually, Alfred rearing for a come back but was cut off as Russia grabbed the phone.

"That will be all, mister America? Da? Bye," He chimed before hanging up, his words and actions too quick for Alfred to reply. He dropped the phone back into the suitcase, Matthew staring for a moment before flustering in his seat.

"Your brother is terribly annoying," He commented in a sing-song voice before turning away and stepping over to his bed. "Talks too much; he makes my head hurt,"

Matthew stopped, wanting to reply but decided against it. The Russian still made him nervous and didn't seem to be doing anything to prevent that. He looked back to his brother's suitcase, deciding to use that to occupy himself, rummaging through it, mindful not to mess up things.

He didn't notice the Russian's gaze as he slipped out Alfred's phone once more. He started to tap away on it, trying to access the internet or at least look like he was distracted, closing the suitcase and setting it down on the floor with his free hand.

As he set his mind to work on a news article he slipped down in the chair, starting to relax. He peeked up over his phone at Russia, curious as to what Russia could be doing.

The man was reading his notes, though Matthew could've sworn he had locked eyes with him for a fraction of a second. He hoped not, not wanting to bother the larger or make him angry for whatever reason.

Turning back to his phone, Matthew became more aware as he felt Russia's eyes on him. He tried his best to not visibly shudder, already having felt like he was invading the man's privacy, so he didn't need any glares to make him feel worse about a situation he couldn't change.

Matthew continued browsing articles on the phone, the minutes passing slowly, starting to feel his head dip. He jerked it up, though, semi-determined to stay up all night. Falling asleep felt like a bad idea, though he did feel bad about making assumptions that he was in danger around the larger nation. He couldn't help it; he'd seen what Russia could do and had been told plenty of stories.

Gripping the phone, Matthew tried his best to concentrate on staying awake, pushing himself to sit up properly. He soon looked at Russia, spotting that he was laying down, facing away from him with his jacket folded at the end of the bed. Matthew sighed softly, feeling at ease with the Russian's eyes not on him. He let himself rest a moment, resting his head back on the seat and staring up at the ceiling.

Very slowly, he felt himself start to sink towards slumber once more, letting his eyes close for a moment. He let out a soft breath, and with that, he fell asleep.