(Russia x Reader) Shattered Sunflower Memories (5)

DISCLAIMER! I don't own you or Hetalia. ಠ_ಠ

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I came home from my visit to Eduard's place with yet another address and phone number in hand—to contact Raivis Galante, who represents the country of Latvia. This time, I was not eager to meet him. I had decided to piece the information gathered together.

One month ago, Ivan came back from the world meeting. He deleted the videos, but he must've found out that I lost memories, or at least something like that… But that all can't happen in a day... or can it? Eduard had refused show me that last video. Does that video possibly have to do with my memories? It has to, because the date that the video was taken was exactly a month ago.

My thoughts were interrupted by the ringing of my cell-phone. I draw it out of my coat-pocket, seeing the Russian's name blink on the screen. Nervously, I pick it up, not wanting to worry Ivan. However, even after picking up and pressing my phone to my ear, I fall silent. I couldn't find words to say, and not even a simple 'hello' left my parted lips.

"Aleksandra? You're there, right?"

I hear a modulated voice speak from the other side after several long seconds. His voice slipped into my ears pleasantly like silk.

"Yes, I am here. I'm sorry, I wasn't… thinking at the moment."

"No, there's no need to apologize. I was very worried."

"Everything is fine… I gained some memories again."

"I see. I'm glad they're slowly coming back to you. I'm… very glad."

I couldn't believe him though. There was a very uncertain voice that I found in his voice. Not only that, I feel guilty. I promised him I would let the memories come to me naturally… yet I force them in me. And still, I actually don't remember it clearly. I don't feel like (name) at all. I feel like Aleksandra with (name)'s memories forced upon her.

"Are you… crying?"

I feel my fingers curl tighter around my phone, and they tremble terribly. I hold my breath as I let some tears stream down my dry cheeks, making them sting. It hurt.

"What happened—"

"I wonder why people make promises they won't be able to keep."

I say in a low, wobbly voice, interrupting his sentence. There was yet another silence, and I try to calm myself down. Mute the silence, someone, fill this gap of horrid silence…

"Aleksandra, where are you?"

"I'm going home."

"Where were you before?"

I hear Ivan's monotone voice speak. It scared me, it made my tears flow out of me faster, making my cheeks burn. It hurts, it hurts…

"Eduard von Bock's home. Estonia's place."

The line was cut. He had hung up on me. What have I done? Was he angry? Did I upset him? The future seemed to be painted in a bitter shade of gray. Not bothering to wipe my tears away, I head back to the warm, cozy place called 'home'.

---

Slap! My cheeks burned, and my eyes widened.

"Yekaterina…?"

"Aleksandra! Where have you been?!"

She yelled as I rubbed my cheeks. The stained traces of my tears were flooded again with tears yet again. I must be a burden to many…

"You made us worried!"

Soon enough, I was embraced into the Ukrainian's arms. I hear soft whimpers from the kind woman, and I feel tears stain my shoulder. I'm sorry.

"A-Aleksandra… I-I thought you might've disappeared again… you made me s-so worried…"

Disappear…

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"Ah! (name), how are you?"

"I am fine , Mister Raivis. I think you know this already, but…"

"Yes, I am aware. Why don't we meet at the park near your home? I must show you something. I am sure it will help you remember memories."

"Alright. I will see you shortly."

Getting ready to leave again, I told Yekaterina and Natalya and they hoped that I would stop forcing memories upon myself. They wished me luck and sent me off.

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After waiting in the park for a while, I spotted a small, young man run towards me. He was very short, and he had curly blond hair. His eyes were a dark shade of blue like the night sky.
"Aha! So, (name), do you remember your own home?"

"My own… home?"

"I see! I remember keeping a spare key, and I thought it might help."

"Thank you, Raivis. It's very kind of you."

Leading me to 'my home', I found myself stand in front of a small, brick apartment. The Latvian pressed the key in my palm and smiled, motioning me to open the door. Sliding the metal into the lock, I hear a click and open the door. I gasped to see…