I had already been asleep when I heard Ivan walking into the hotel room late at night, and Francis and Feliks moaning in pain as they went into their separate rooms.

I now understand what France meant by telling me Russia is a scary man sometimes, and could hurt me. But he didn't.

Poland and Russia has always had some issues with each other. Russia has attacked him so many times before, I kinda feel bad for him. But Poland has escaped less injured than France. France was the one that somewhat dragged Poland into all this mayhem, according to Poland.

I'm woken up when Ivan carefully lifts the covers, trying to get in without waking me. He moves as slowly as he can, trying not to make a sound. I look at the alarm clock on the bedside table. The time is just after 1 in the morning. I turn to face Ivan.

"Oh. I'm sorry for waking you up." Ivan apologizes. "And I'm sorry for what you had to see today."

I sigh. "It's fine." It's late and I'm tired. I didn't feel like talking tonight.

"It's not fine. Tomorrow morning everyone will be talking about those photos and videos. I can imagine so many people coming up to you and telling you how you are so stupid to be dating a monster like me or-"

"What are you talking about?" I look at him. "You aren't a monster."

"Yes I am! I'm not worth being loved!" He turns the other way. There is nothing but quiet, and one small sniff.

Is he crying?

I reach out and wrap my hands around his bare chest rippled in muscles. I hold him tightly. "No you're not." I whisper in a soothing tone, as I would to a baby. There is a moment of silence, then he turns back to me, with tears lining his sparkling violet eyes. He lets one tear drop fall. He hugs me tightly, like a child would to a doll they never want to lose.

"Я так тебя люблю, " he whispers in my ear, in a sorrowful tone. He runs his fingers through my long (h/c) hair. (I love you so much)

His words feel so tender, so pure. So full of pain and relief. A mixture of sadness and elation. With a touch of loneliness, and none. It makes me feel so warm on the inside. No one thinks a tough man has feelings, nor feels his insecurity. Everyone thinks he is only a big man, nothing but muscles and power, but inside he is a little child longing for friendship. I never want to leave this man. I need him, and he needs me.

"Я тоже тебя люблю," I whisper back to him. (I love you too)

I yawn, and close my eyes, feeling comforted by this big strong man, and starting to slowly drift to sleep.

"Спокойной ночи, " Ivan tells me, and kisses me on my forehead. (Goodnight)

" Спокойной ночи," I respond. (Goodnight)

. . .