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It had been such a terrible day, and he wanted to go home.
Ivan missed his family. Each day away from them stretched out like the time when he was a kid, when he’d been small and lonely. He was done with meetings. Done with arguments, done with politics.
Amelia was late. She was supposed to have arrived ten minutes ago. Then again, it was probably good she wasn't here to witness this disaster. He was a pitiful sight. He was embarrassing himself and behaving like an overgrown child. He'd been forced to.
No one understood.
The glares thrown his way, their whispers deafening his ears despite their hushed tones. The sharpest look was from Poland, always ready for a fight. He sat beside Lithuania, arms crossed as he blew stands of stray blonde hair out of his face, eyes unwavering. Reminding Ivan he was being watched, never let out of anyone's sight.
God knows what he'll do
, the whispers exclaimed.
He’s unstable.
He didn’t know if they were trying to be heard or not.
He stood sharply, papers flying away from the table. The nearest nation flinched and edged away in their seat. No one sat directly next to him. The two seats closest were empty, followed by the next ones over. Their mutterings faltered as every pair of eyes locked onto him
.
They always did these days.
No one in this meeting room remembered what it was like to be
hated.
They'd all forgotten. Too many years had passed, too many of them had gotten comfy with all their allies.
Except him. He remembered, because he couldn’t forget. He wasn’t allowed to forget. The reminders were constant.
Suddenly, the door to the meeting room burst open, an ear-splitting
bang
echoing across the hall. Someone jumped. Heads turned towards the noise...
And down towards the floor.
In between the doorframe stood a little girl, no more than five, with wide sky-blue eyes and silvery-blonde hair. She was tiny, too small to open the heavy doors on her own. And yet, she was bigger than Ivan remembered, bigger than when he'd last laid eyes on her months ago. The little girl wore a bright blue beanie that was supposed to be an adult’s size, and it drooped over her eyes, forcing miniature hands to hold it up. She wore a t-shirt with a child's cartoon on it. Her watery eyes searched the room, landing on the figure standing, landing on Ivan.
She brightened, eyes glowing in recognition. A dazzling and bright-white smile identical to her mother’s lit up her face.
"Papochka?"
Ivan could barely breathe.
That's why she was late.
His mind went blank. He was moving away from the table and the chairs before he could regain his thoughts. His knees collided with the floor, arms wide as the girl ran to him.
A heart-melting laugh bubbled from her chest, short legs moving as fast as they could to him. His sunflower, his joy, the very reason he kept going. Her and her mother, who she resembled so much, especially when she smiled.
The girl collided into him, tiny hands wrapping around his waist. He lifted her up, pulling her to his chest, cradling her like a newborn. But she wasn't anymore. She was growing up fast, too fast. The cradling was an old habit of his, something he couldn’t let go.
For the first time in months, he fought back tears. He clasped his daughter to his chest, laughter spilling from his lips. He let her pull back to watch. He met her curious eyes with his own.
"Papochka, why are you crying?"
He shook his head, pressing his forehead against hers. Her hand was clasped in one of his. "I am not crying, Podsolnukh."
"Yes you are!"
He barely had time to wipe the tears away before Amelia burst in.
"Sorry I'm late!" She shut the doors behind her. She walked over to Ivan, ignoring the open-mouthed stares and endless whispers. "Couldn't find a babysitter since everyone I trust is already here."
She placed a gentle kiss on Ivan's cheek.
"How are you?" She whispered. Her body was pressed close, her back turned to the others.
His smile faltered, though only slightly. He didn't want to think about the meetings or work. Now that his family were here, he didn’t care about it. He answered honestly.
"Much better now you are here."
She pulled away, only to find the rest of the room staring.
Lithuania’s mouth was open. Italy was crying, although it wasn’t clear if they were happy or sad tears. Even Poland looked shocked, a twirling finger now frozen in his hair.
But Madeline was smiling, France held a hand to his heart, and England stared down at the table, corners of his lips twitched upwards.
Amelia was undeterred, her arm slipping underneath Ivan's. She led them to the wooden table to join the others.
She whispered to the little girl in Ivan’s arms as they took their seats.
"Now, you promise to be a good girl and not interrupt Mommy or Papochka?"
The little girl nodded, curled against Ivan's chest. She wasn't used to all the attention, and her voice had vanished, if only for now.
Ivan pressed a kiss to her head.
“Well, whaddya know,” he heard someone whisper quietly. “Russia does have a heart.”
He ignored the comment.
He, for one, was very glad to have them here, regardless.