Work Text:
Ugh, she's so irritating...
Belarus, with arms crossed, shot a death glare at the two people to the left of her at the world meeting—her older sister, Ukraine, and whoever the hell she was talking to (Finland? That was the Belarusian's best guess, as he appeared to be a blond, short, slightly chubby man).
Of course Ukraine had pushed her out of the conversation, just as always. What the hell made her older sister so special, anyway? Nothing. Fucking nothing.
Belarus continued to stare at her sister, who was now giggling at something funny Finland (?) had said. Oh, who was she kidding—of course Ukraine was better than her. She was nicer, funnier, less weird, less creepy...really, the list just went on. Belarus supposed that the only thing going for her beauty, though even that was only on a technical level. And it wasn't like Belarus herself really gave a shit what she looked like, or even thought that she was pretty herself.
At some point, Ukraine actually had the decency to turn around and see what Belarus was doing—she was, indeed, scribbling absentmindedly in a notebook as she sat in her seat, still nearly glaring at Ukraine. The older woman frowned as she saw this. "Bela, what's wrong?"
"Nothing," Belarus hissed, her grip on her pen growing tighter.
"Are you sure?" The man—indeed Finland—was now poking his head out from above Ukraine's shoulder, staring at the younger blonde as if she had three heads. Ukraine's face, on the other hand, showed nothing but concern and worry.
"Yes, I'm fucking sure." Belarus poked a hole through the paper in her notebook.
Ukraine glanced down at her sister's hand for a few moments, surely noticing the tight veins and what she'd just done to the notebook. She gave Belarus an awkward smile, looking her back in the eyes. "Well, I was actually just talking about how—"
"About what? How you're so much better than me?" Belarus snapped back; she couldn't control herself.
Ukraine grew that worried look again, looking a bit sad too. Finland, on the other hand, just looked scared at this point (and was probably regretting his seating choice).
Ukraine tried to reach her hand out to touch Belarus' shoulder, who instantly slapped her hand away. "Don't fucking touch me." She stood up then, wanting to move away from her seat immediately.
"Belarus, I'm sorry. You don't need to leave," Ukraine said. Belarus wasn't looking at her at that moment, but her voice sounded quavering—her pre-crying voice. And Finland was still staring at her.
"Well, I am leaving," she said back. And before she completely stormed out of the room, she turned to Finland and snapped, "And you need to learn to mind your own damn business."
Not caring what time the meeting started (as she knew it was most likely soon), she headed out the two large doors, down the hall, and into the bathroom, where she shut the door harshly and went into a stall. She sat down on the toilet seat and drew her knees up to her chest, her face now hot. Anger, sadness, and just a hint of embarrassment just beginning to creep up washed through her. She knew she'd kind of gone off the handle and her explosion had been sudden, but nobody, not even Ukraine, knew the feelings that'd built up inside of her before letting her anger get the better of her.
Speaking of the devil, Belarus then heard the sound of the bathroom door opening and closing again, much softer than when she'd done it just a few minutes earlier. She just knew who the person was before they even spoke. "Bela?" Indeed, it was Ukraine. "I'm sorry. Whatever I did, I'm sorry."
Belarus scowled a little, bringing her knees closer. She didn't want or need an apology—Ukraine already did that enough (and for the stupidest reasons, too)—she just wanted her to go away.
Belarus heard clicking footsteps—surely Ukraine walking further into the bathroom. The sounds were loud but gradual. Ukraine, perhaps feeling Belarus' presence or hearing her breathe, stepped right in front of the stall door and just stood there. "Belarus, please come out," her older sister pleaded again.
The younger blonde, her eyes now away from the door, thought about it. Her anger dissipated just a little, though the same general feelings remained; however, she knew the meeting would be starting soon. Plus, she knew Ukraine would just stand there until she eventually came out, whenever that would be. So, more than a bit hesitatingly, Belarus got up and cracked open the lock quietly.
Once the door was opened, she saw the face of her older sister staring back at her. Her eyes were red, as if she'd just been crying, and her expression held that same concerned look that she'd seen back in the meeting room. However, when she saw Belarus, she seemingly grew relieved, letting out a sigh and a tiny smile. "Oh, there you are," she said quietly. "I got so worried about you."
Belarus looked down a little as she spoke. "Yeah," she replied, tone deadpanned.
Ukraine put a hand on Belarus' arm. "What's wrong, dear? What did I do? Was it something I said?"
Belarus flinched a little at the touch, but didn't pull away. She was about to remain quiet, but her lips twitched, as if her subconscious was telling her to answer anyway. "Um...I, I don't know," she answered very quietly, still looking down. "Not really. It's just..." She sighed a little, not even sure where she was going with this.
Ukraine paused for a few minutes, listening to her sister speak, until something she'd said earlier popped back into her head: About what? How you're so much better than me? "Belarus, are you jealous of me?" she asked then, with it coming out a little more blunt than she would've liked.
Belarus must've been a bit taken aback by this, too, as she suddenly looked up, her face turning bright red. Quickly, she looked back down again, kicking the ground below her a little. "Um, I don't know," she said again. "No. Well, I mean..." She gave up her facade then, sighing loudly, her brows drawing together. "Okay, fine. Yes. Yes I am. Happy now?"
Ukraine's heart dropped hearing her little sister say that. She didn't really have any idea what to say in response to that—so she just did what she did best: gave comfort. She leaned forward and wrapped her arms tightly around Belarus.
Belarus found herself too vulnerable at that moment to really fight back, so she instead returned the hug. The longer it lasted, the more she found herself enjoying it; she'd forgotten how good her older sister's hugs felt.
Ukraine continuously made soft shushing noises as if Belarus were crying (even though she wasn't); she also kept whispering soft affirmations and compliments into Belarus' ear that, even though she knew half of them weren't true, still made Belarus want to cry, to be completely honest.
After more than a few minutes, Ukraine pulled away, rubbed Belarus' reddened cheek tenderly, and smiled warmly at her. Belarus, despite herself, grinned back.
Seeing this seemed to make Ukraine happier and she smiled wider. "I love you, Bela," she said.
"I love you, too," Belarus replied after a while.
Ukraine patted her sister's head. The two just stood like that for a few moments, both of them grinning at each other; Belarus quickly began to feel quite awkward, and her grin fell the further she looked down.
She eventually heard her sister's voice again: "Okay, we should get back to the meeting now. Everyone in there is probably already having a screaming match with each other," she joked.
Belarus was honestly a little surprised at the joke, as her sister never really seemed to show much disdain for how the world meetings typically went (though she knew, realistically, probably everybody hated the meetings). It got more than a small chuckle out of the Belarusian though.
Ukraine, happy to hear her sister laughing, smiled again. "C'mon, let's go." She turned to walk out of the bathroom, and a more-than-content Belarus followed.