Hetalia RussiaXReader- To The End pt2

The tension in the room was so thick, you could cut it with a knife. Ivan sat on one end of the table and Alfred on the other. There were 50 shots of Vodka each and Ivan had a knowing smile on his face. Alfred was obviously very nervous. He was feeling under the weather today anyway, but this was likely to make it worse.
"I want back what I sold to you all those years ago. Poĭmite?"
"Yes…ok. I'll win anyway!" The American seemed to have got his confidence back as he sat back in his chair. He laughed any hints of nervousness away. His Heroic smile returned and soon he looked sure he would win.

The tall Russian nodded his head and gripped a shot glass between his leather gloved fingers. He threw it to the back of his throat and gulped it down. A satisfied smile played across his face as he did so. He then waved his hand silently towards Alfred, who quickly drank his shot. His face contorted. He clearly didn't like the taste of this "Russian Fuel" Everyone else started whispering, taking bets on who would pass out first.

A voice in your ear made you jump "Hey, _____. I bet you Russ- I mean Ivan wins." You look to see Arthur with some British money in his hand. He waited patiently for your response.
"Sorry, Arthur, but I don't gamble. Bad habits…" You explained. He then went off with an air of slight annoyance to see if anyone else would like to put their money on Alfred. It seemed everyone was betting on Ivan to win. You turned back to the game.
They had already consumed ten shots and Alfred was a little red in the face. Ivan just sat with a gleeful look. He picked up yet another shot and threw it down his throat with an audible gulp.

This kept going until they had none left. Alfred was scarlet and he was swaying slightly. He hiccuped quietly and you thought of the pink elephants that must have been passing in front of his eyes. Ivan was only showing the first signs of drunkenness. His face was tinged pink in a cute sort of way. Wait…what?!?! You hardly even know him! What the hell is wrong with you? You thought. You mentally slapped your own face.

Ivan held up his hands and clapped them twice. Suddenly, two men came in with bottles of Vodka in their hands. One was Eduard and the other one had a pine green suit on and shoulder length, sandy brown hair. They swiftly came round and topped up the glasses. Alfred looked at the new refills with despair. He put out a shaking hand and gripped the nearest one. Down it went. Ivan took his turn gleefully. Alfred then looked like he was about to fall over, but seized the next one.

This went on until Alfred just looked at Ivan. His face went a strange green colour and he jumped up from his chair with alarming speed. He then stumbled drunkly to the small waste bin in the corner and said goodbye to his hamburgers. The sounds of the American retching made you feel sick too. You turned away from him to see Ivan beaming. It wasn't the same smile you were familiar with. It was filled with a kind of dark malice.

"I'm guessing you don't want the rest of your Vodka?" Ivan smirked. "You will let me finish yours, da?"

Alfred's head bobbed up and down in agreement, but soon stopped as more of his previous food made a reappearance. Then, Ivan simply walked to the other side of the table and rapidly drank all Vodka in sight like a machine. He then clapped his hands twice and Eduard and the other man came to take the glasses away. He then left the room to go to the lounge opposite.

Arthur was rubbing Alfred's back as he threw up. How could one man have THAT much in his stomach? You asked yourself.

"How could I have lost? I… *blergh*… I'm the Hero!!! I knew it was a bad idea to agree. It's mostly down to the opened bag of chips I found under my bed. How was I to know they would make me… *blergh* Yeah. Exactly." He seemed to have stopped. He wiped his mouth on the back of his sleeve and looked at Arthur. "So… I have lost Alaska now…" His eyes glanced to you and he turned away.
You wondered what that meant… Alaska? Didn't America buy that from Russia in 1867? You didn't have long to dwell on it, however, as Ivan's voice floated through the door.

"____! Idi syuda!"
Even though you didn't speak Russian, you knew that meant 'Come here.' You looked back to the others and nodded in a way of saying goodbye. They returned the gesture and you followed the voice. You pushed open the door to see Ivan sprawled out on the sofa. His face was redder than it was when he left the room. You thought that could be due to the alcohol or it could be the fact that his scarf might have been too tight.

You thought of loosening his scarf, just in case he was suffocating of something like that. You looked at his peaceful, if not crimson, face. He was fast asleep. You reached down towards his scarf to slacken it off. Your fingertips touched the soft fabric. All at once, Ivan's hand flew upwards from its position hanging off the sofa. He grabbed your wrist and twisted your arm in a way arms weren't supposed to twist. A searing pain shot up it and made you cry out. It hurt beyond belief. His face had an expression of annoyance and hate. His violet eyes met your (eye colour) ones. They seemed to glow in an unnatural way.

"Nyet. Let me be clear." His voice was calm and steady. "This scarf is to be untouched. My sister gave it to me, and now she is gone. It is special." He twisted your arm slightly more, making tears form in your eyes. "So, no touching. I am making this clear, da?" You nodded and he let go of your arm. You pulled it back towards your chest and rubbed it. That had hurt quite a bit. Ivan closed his eyes. His face fell back to that state of innocence. "Eto khorosho..." You didn't know what to do. You stormed from the room and leant against the wall in the hallway. You inhaled slowly and realised your situation. It's probably my own fault… If his sister gave it to him and now she's gone…well…I might have reacted the same way… You sauntered into the room where the drinking game had been to find it empty. You pulled up a chair and slumped into it…