Your pulse quickened just a little as you heard the lock. You turned your head to see Soviet standing there quietly.
"I didn't want anyone walking in while we.... talk."
You nodded in understanding. "I get it. A lot of people don't want anyone else to listen to their problems because they think they'll just burden them."
Sitting in the chair you pulled out for him he placed his hands on his lap. "I saw some of your awards, how did you win them? What are they for?"
You noticed he was stalling so you went with it. "Well, at least four years ago I researched the part of the brain that controls your emotions. I noticed there was an unknown stem in that part of the brain. A good friend of mine who is a neurologist studied it with me and gave me a research group that he led."
"All of us together discovered that the little stem we found holds total euphoria when triggered. While my friend had all the equipment I conducted the experiments. I found a way to set off little bits of it, helping even the most depressed person have little moments of happiness and to show they can be happy."
Soviet looked at you astounded. "Wow, that's..... amazing."
"Thank you." You grabbed a pen and paper on your nightstand. "You told me earlier that: 'not even my sons want to share a room with me.' What do you mean by this?"
He was quick to answer. "I was a good parent, maybe not the best but decent enough. Yet my children don't think so."
He seemed so nonchalant answering it. Almost as if he was bored. He must be set in his ways thinking that he was in the right, and everyone else was wrong. Yet, you need to know both sides to know who exactly is the victim here.
"I'll admit, I was bit of a drunk. Maybe a little aggressive, but I just fought wars! The children should understand, yeah?"
A distant look took up the space in his white eyes. "Never had a good relationship with my father. He tried auctioning off siblings and I, succeeded with some. They should be grateful they have father like me rather than the one I grew up with."
"They need to be grateful. I was the best father they could deal with. I protected them, so what if I had bad days?" He shrugged, pulling out a cigarette and a lighter from his pocket before putting it back from the stern look you gave him.
"You know, you show no fear. Especially to my presence, I respect that."
You blinked at him, putting down your pen and awkwardly smiling at him. "Thanks, I guess?"
"But parent to parent, you are aware of how children can be ungrateful. You give them as much as you can, yet they plead for more."
As he became quiet you took a break from writing to soothe your aching hand from writing so much.
"I must admit, you were wrong to raise your hand to your child. A parent should never do that." Soviet discreetly rolled his eye, leaning back into the chair with his arms crossed. "But," He arched an eyebrow, messing with the dry skin under his eyepatch.
"I see why you did. Sometimes when overloaded with emotions we see the people we love as people who are trying to fight you." You think about if that was you and Apollo.
From what Soviet claimed, he loved his kids, he tried giving them everything. If you were in his spot, would you raise your hand to Apollo?
Yet, how could you trust him?
How do you know he's telling the truth, that he genuinely loves his kids?
Or is this just some elaborate lie to get you on his side?
A soft whine grabbed both of your attention. The little puppy emerged from under your bed, stretching its back legs. You almost forgot Ata was there in the room. He's always with your son, following Apollo everywhere but the second you're about the close your bedroom door he slips under the bed.
You wonder if he woke up from sensing the great despondency emitting from the country.
Ata trudged his way to Soviet, whose attention was sorely on the dog. The puppy jumped onto his lap before falling asleep again with quiet snores occasionally slipping through as Soviet sat there stiffly.
You observed Soviet's behavior. He was taken aback by the dog, almost awkward at the sudden attention from the canine. He slowly raised his hand before cautiously combing his large fingers through the dog's hair. You took out your notebook before writing in it once more.
Soviet:
- very bitter towards past events
- resentful (?) towards children
- past alcohol abuse
- is he telling the truth?
"Soviet, do you wish to have a better relationship with everyone here? More importantly, your sons?" He looked up at you with a confused expression, taking a break from stroking the sleeping dog.
"Why should I care of what others think of me? What kind of question is that?"
"Well, if I were you and I wanted my children to start talking to me, I'd respect their boundaries. They said they don't want you in the room, maybe sleep somewhere else? Give them some time to come to you on their own terms."
He silently listened to your advice before scoffing. "Why should I bother when they want nothing to do with me? If they don't care, I won't as well."
You buried your head in your hands stifling your groan. You know damn well you're going to have to work with this man a lot for any progress. Maybe if you talk to Russia and Kazakhstan you can find out who's telling the truth in this story.
You looked up hearing him curse under his breath. Ata had woken up, jumping up on his chest to nip at his face all the while accidentally tearing his sweater part.
Working up the courage to look back up again you see Soviet looking unamused. "I just realized that was my only pair of clothes."
You laughed softly, shaking your head. "Well, I'm thinking of going to get clothes for everyone tomorrow. So don't worry, you won't have to wear your suit anymore."
He cracked a small smile back at you before taking your hand, kissing it to much of your surprise. "Thank you, Ms. Y/L/N. I appreciate your listening and your advice, but I must admit I am getting tired as it is late at night."
You check the clock on your nightstand and see it was 12:37. "Oh I guess you're right." Your eyes widen at realizing you have no spare mattress.
"I just remembered that I have no spare mattress and your kids don't want you in the room. Are you okay with sharing a bed for tonight?" You could've sworn you saw his already red face turn a deeper shade.
"That is completely fine. Just hope you don't sleep naked."
Crawling to your side of the bed you prepare to sleep. Feeling the bed dip on the other side you turn off the only source of light in the room.
"Goodnight Soviet. Trust me, I'll talk with your kids soon." You whispered into the darkness. You didn't get a reply so you closed your eyes.
At least ten minutes later you feel yourself being pulled closer to Soviet, he pulled you to his chest. You tried wiggling away, only for his grip to tighten.
Thinking nothing of it, probably him thinking you're a pillow in his sleep, you said nothing before closing your eyes again.
So small you could barely see, Soviets one good eye was locked on you, an unreadable emotion pooling into his eye as he kept you close for the night.
|~~~~~~~~~~~~|
Dude I am not used to writing such intimate things so writing this I'm blushing trying to hide in my blanket.
Have you ever met that one person who's so annoying and narcissistic you hate them with a burning passion but everyone is just to naïve so everyone likes them so if you're mean to them you'll seem like the bad guy so you sit there with your eye twitching trying not to snap?
Imma bout to slap that person for me.
Also, did you know that dogs like squeaky toys because they remind them of dying animals?
I think I'm going to add little questions and facts whenever I'm writing a chapter.
ALSO, the whole clothes thing was an idea I got from 'Superficial Paradise' because I thought that was a good idea. Credits to the author.