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"You're not going to get anywhere if you are so obstinate towards me. My conditions are fairly simple, no?"
Sakha silently grit his teeth. He eyed the steaming teacup sitting on the wooden table in front of him, darting quickly to Russia's then back at his own. Now he just felt disappointed in himself for not sneaking a laxative or two in Russia's drink.
Then again, he'd hardly be able to advocate for what he wanted if Russia was too busy emptying his insides in some hole outside. What a shame, the first half of their day together was more or less pleasant. He bit back a grin.
Maybe next time. "I get that," he drawled, giving another useless stir to his tea. "But I am being truthful to you. Why would I lie?"
A scowl flashed itself upon Russia's face, the strained smile returning almost as fast as it left. Sakha took to smoothing out his robes.
"Well, there's quite an obvious reason why you would, Dmitri." Russia addressing him by his baptised name wasn't at all uncommon, so this instance wouldn't have been an eyebrow raiser if not for the curt manner in which it was spat out. Too late - Sakha was too used to it for Russia to squeeze a wince out of him at this point. Though, for a split second he contemplated feigning some sort of shocked reaction to deter Russia from conjuring up new ways to be petty. He seemed pretty good at that these days.l
"And there's an even more obvious reason why it's a good idea that I don't lie to you, Ivan", and with that he gave one last particularly harsh tug to the fabric.
Russia cleared his throat, turning his head to seemingly ogle Sakha's pottery. For a few moments the only sounds between them was the steadiness of their shared breathing and sparse, shrill wails in the distance - presumably from some group of birds.
"We've made agreements before and I've kept my word, did I not?"
"You did." Russia replied plainly. His features crumpled in annoyance as he lifted his teacup to take a sip, though it ended up looking like a bid to hide his expression. Anyhow, Sakha could have sworn that Russia was glaring at him from behind the teacup, or that was the only way Sakha could read the puzzling positions his eyebrows were in.
It was an unusually stuffy spring day. He couldn't tell if it was the heat making him feel like a prisoner in his own clothes or Russia's inability to convey emotion without coming off as disingenuous, or as Even described him, "like he's hiding an axe underneath his huge coats." Maybe Sakha should have offered Russia some alcohol instead - drunk Russia he could handle. Have a laugh with, even. For now though, he contemplated how spacious the urasa was, and how it did absolutely nothing to prevent the feeling that the walls of the domed enclave edged closer after every exchange.
"You are no stranger to revolutions, Ivan. You've just had one of your own-"
"I am aware of that," he snapped, shutting down whatever potential speech Sakha was about to embark on, not in the mood to indulge him in the mess that happened just a year prior. He gulped down the last of his tea, motioning to Sakha to not bother in pouring him another.
Sakha shrugged in return, going ahead and liberally refilling his own cup.
"So..." Sakha started, a cautious edge to his voice. "Surely you can empathise with our plight?"
Russia pursed his lips, index finger idly tracing circles against the table.
"It's not that I...don't." He said, shifting to now lean back in his seat - peering at Sakha through half lidded eyes. Perhaps in an attempt to seem unbothered after his sudden interjection, or perhaps to make Sakha feel belittled - casting his gaze downwards to look at him. If anything, he came off as looking suspicious, which even Sakha would admit was somewhat understandable despite the fact that Russia's resistance in taking his word was pissing him off in more ways than one.
"I am just concerned."
"About...what?" Sakha internally tiptoed around the rather rude response that first came to mind and landed on a much softer one , "I've already given you my word that no such union would happen again. I don't understand the concern"
"Well... As you know, I don't want you getting-" He paused, hands gesturing in a way that made it seem as if he was attempting to transmit the message to Sakha through movement alone. He looked slightly ridiculous.
"...Certain ideas in your head about any kind of future secessionist movement." At this, Russia shifted once more, but now it seemed as if he was trying to defy physics somehow by pushing his form through the table so he could be nose to nose with Sakha. His torso leered over the table so severely that he may as well have been. Now he embodied ridiculous.
Sakha sat still. On one hand he didn't want to recoil in any way, on the other if he moved any closer - Russia would be practically breathing on him. And quite frankly, he'd be equally as repulsed by this no matter if his breath was fresh or smelled like a dead animal. He silently noted to himself to purchase bigger tables.
"As you know - there were absolutely no talks on seceding. Not from Vasily or anyone else.." he took a rather loud slurp from his cup, as if the sudden obnoxious noise would scare Russia into sitting back in his seat in a normal manner - or at the very least annoy him.
"The crux of our argument was the fact that we wanted representation in the State Duma. Surely that was a reasonable request considering our population and contributions we have made? And surely-" he stood up to put the empty teapot away, sensing that Russia wouldn't be there for much longer (moreso hoping).
"It is even more reasonable that we at least get some acknowledgement on ah... our grievances on our colonisation? You of all people should know how unpleasant an invasion is..." he plopped himself back on his chair, continuing,
"You've already disbanded the Union, and there won't be another. You have my word that I am satisfied"
Russia heaved a dejected sigh, raking through his thoughts. A forced smile pulled at the corners of his mouth.
"Sure."