[He's already itching for a fight, fingers twitching and twining in the fabric of his scarf, in the hem of his coat-sleeves. The ship might be big enough for there to be enough space, but there's nothing like a good fight and it's been months since he really had one. Specially not one he had to hold back. He closes his eyes to hide the dark glint that might speak on his instability, and focuses on the press of hip and shoulder and the one, two, of steps in sync.
Still, that look is more than enough to distract him.
So Russia blinks, reeling back, before he laughs--a startled, peal of laughter he can't hold back. It's been a long while since he's laughed so easily, good job Ned.]
I'll kick you out if you try. [But Russia leans into him and smiles, warm and relieved.] 'sides, I hate Medbay. Won't wind up there if I can help it.
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Still, that look is more than enough to distract him.
So Russia blinks, reeling back, before he laughs--a startled, peal of laughter he can't hold back. It's been a long while since he's laughed so easily, good job Ned.]
I'll kick you out if you try. [But Russia leans into him and smiles, warm and relieved.] 'sides, I hate Medbay. Won't wind up there if I can help it.