The Perfect Gift (RussiaXReader)

America's yearly Christmas party was in full swing. Every inch of the house dripped with festive holiday decor; from the ten foot tall, tinsel-laiden tree in the living room to the peppermint-scented, bell-shaped soaps in the bathroom, there was no surface left untouched. Presents spilled out from underneath the twinkling tree; an array of boxes in shiny paper and ribbons that Finland would pass out at the end  of the night.

At the bar, Prussia refilled his beer stein (again) as he belted out a loud, off-key rendition of "O Tannenbaum" that almost (but not quite) drowned out the sound of France and England arguing over who brought the best gifts, and Greece was curled up in the corner of the couch under a red and green blanket, taking an inpromptu nap. You didn't understand how he could sleep with the music blaring and Italy rattling off his own version of "Twas the Night Before Christmas" to poor Germany, who looked as if he would rather be somewhere a little more quiet.

"(name)!" America called from the dessert-laden buffet table. "C'mere and grab some food before everything is gone!" As if to make a point, he shoved a chocolate chip cookie into his mouth.

You laughed and shook your head, politely declining the offer. The assortment of cookies and cakes had been shipped in from the very best bakeries around the world especially for the gathering, but you simply couldn't stomach the thought of food. Not until you delivered one very special gift to one very special country. Unfortunately, he seemed to be the only one who hadn't arrived. You sighed and poked at the gold ribbon wrapped around the small square package sitting on your lap.

~*~
An hour later, you were chatting with Spain and Romano, or rather, you were listening to them bicker back and forth about something that happened ages ago and involved Romano's unending disobedience towards his "boss". You were so distracted by their banter that you failed to notice what was happening behind you until it was too late.

Hungary was chasing France through the room with her skillet raised and ready for revenge. (Apparently, he'd gotten a little carried away when he caught her standing under the mistletoe.)  France, trying to escape her wrath, pushed Italy out of his way as he dodged around the recliner. Italy lost his balance and stumbled into you, knocking you into a very startled Romano, who barely managed to catch you without falling over himself. The gift you'd been holding tumbled from your hands, hit the floor with a dull thud, and rolled across the room.

"Idiota!" Romano shouted. "What-a are you doing?"

Italy let out a cry. "Scusi, bella! Are you okay? It was an accident, fratello! I couldn't stop 'cause-a France and..."

"I-I'm fine. It's alrig- No no... I'm not hurt... I promise! It wasn't your fault..." You spent the next several minutes trying to console the poor distraught Italian as he apologized repeatedly and explained what had happened. Romano stormed off in the direction France had run while Spain chuckled.

Once you finally assured Italy that no harm had been done, you moved to retrieve the fallen present, hoping that it hadn't been damaged by the fall. It had taken weeks of searching to find just the right thing...

You bit your lip to keep from shrieking  as you turned in time to see a drunken, swaying Denmark drop his boot down on the helpless package. The bright golden paper crinkled as the box collapsed under the weight. You heard an unmistakable cracking sound and knew that the gift inside was ruined beyond repair.

"Eh?" Denmark looked down at the floor then up at your anguished face. "Jeg tror, ​​det er brudt. Maybe I can put it back it back together!"

You leaned down and grabbed the box before he could get it. If any of the other nations saw what was inside, they would easily figure out who you'd bought the gift for, realize you had feelings for him, and then someone would tell. Then you would die of embarrassment. You couldn't let that happen! "It's no big deal," you insisted. "Don't worry about it."

"What's in the box?" Denmark leaned down, studying the package intently. "Who is it for, (name)? Is it for your elsker?" He grinned.

"No!" You could feel the heat rise in your cheeks. Denmark had a lot of nerve to ask such a thing! "I mean... It was just an extra present that I brought in case someone unexpected showed up. Like I said, no big deal." If only that were true...

~*~
The rest of the night passed without incident. You sang carols with Italy while Austria played the piano and received a kiss on the cheek when France caught you under the mistletoe (that he held over your head). Hungary stood nearby, keeping guard. When Finland passed out the presents, you were pleasantly surprised by the thoughtful gifts that your friends had gotten you, and they all enjoyed the items you'd given them. It was an almost perfect Christmas Eve.

You said your good-byes to everyone and headed back to your hotel, which was only a block away. The air was crisp and cold; diamond bits of starlight filled the sky. It was beautiful, but you couldn't help feeling just a little sad. For weeks, you'd fantasized about the Christmas party. You'd found the perfect dress and the perfect gift; the little snow globe was truly unique. Inside was a field of sunflowers, each individual flower carefully crafted atop a long, slender stem, and instead of snow, shaking the globe sent a whirlwind of golden flakes floating about like drops of sunlight. He would have loved it, and maybe...

"(Name)? Подожди!"

The voice stopped you in your tracks and made your heart beat faster. "R-Russia? What are you doing out here?" You turned towards him as he approached.

"I was waiting for you," he said simply and gave you a smile that made your heart melt (and made other nations run).

"Waiting for me? But why?"

He held out a long, narrow package wrapped in blue and silver and topped with a big lacy bow. "I wanted to give to you a present."

Your hands shook as you reached for it; you hoped that he wouldn't notice. The tip of his nose was pink from the cold, and the wind had tousled his hair. You wondered how long he'd been waiting. "Why weren't you at the party?" you asked, carefully sliding the bow away from the box.

Russia didn't respond, and when you glanced up, he was watching you with expectant eyes. You let the question go. It wasn't that important in this moment. You peeled back the wrapping paper and opened the box. Inside was a scarf. It was simple and white, and a perfect match for the one around Russia's neck.

"You like it, да?"


"It's..." Tears welled up in your eyes as you thought about the gift buried deep in America's garbage where no one would find it and realized that you had nothing to give him in return.


"Is it not a good gift?" he asked. The smile faded. "I had just thought that it would be good if you should decide to spend more time at my home in the future." He cleared his throat and pushed a hand through his hair. "I could return it if you don't like it."


You pulled the scarf from the box and turned your gaze up to meet his. "It's beautiful. I just - I don't have anything for you. I di -"


His smile returned as he raised a hand to silence you. "нет, that isn't true." He curled a finger beneath your chin and leaned down until his lips brushed yours. His touch was so gentle that your heart skipped a beat. When he drew away, he whispered, "See there, подсолнечник, you have given me the perfect gift."