For Each Ecstatic Instant (8a/10)
anonymous
January 16 2010, 00:27:54 UTC
Lithuania could hear Russia stumbling down the hall, drunkenly knocking against the walls, slurring indistinctly. Bound hand and foot to the cold, metal bedframe, Lithuania could do nothing but hold his breath and hope that Russia passed by his door.
He shut his eyes and tried to will it to be so. He heard the footsteps pause, a few moments of heavy breathing, and then the door opened.
No. I’m asleep. Go away…
“Toris,” Russia whined.
Lithuania was silent, still keeping up the pretense, as hopeless as it seemed. Russia stumbled further into the room and the bed shook as he slumped onto the mattress. Lithuania could smell the alcohol coming off of Russia, as thick as if he were sweating the stuff.
“Toris!” Russia repeated. Lithuania heard the slosh of liquid in a bottle, and then Russia swallowing clumsily.
Hesitantly, Lithuania opened his eyes. Russia was sitting sprawled on Lithuania’s bed. One hand was holding his red, bleary face, the other clutching the neck of a half-empty vodka bottle. The large nation shook as he took another swig.
“It’s all over,” he slurred, swinging out wildly with the arm holding the vodka. Lithuania winced and shut his eyes and drops of alcohol rained onto his face and chest. “All of it.”
“Mr. Russia…” Lithuania said quietly.
Russia looked down at him and Lithuania’s voice failed him even as his heart rate jumped upwards. The vodka bottle dropped from Russia’s fingers, and the other country leaned over him heavily, so that his round, red face dominated Lithuania’s vision. He could see the tears gathering in the corners of Russia’s eyes. Lithuania’s own eyes began to water as Russia’s reeking breath washed over him in sickly wave.
One of Russia’s hands clumsily wrapped around Lithuania’s head, tangling a few strands of hair around his thick fingers.
“Y’have such pretty hair, Toris,” he muttered.
Lithuania wondered if he could bring Russia down with a well-placed knee to the abdomen. It might work, but then there was still the problem of his bound legs. He might have a chance if he could get to the vodka bottle, break it, and use it to the cut the cord. That plan would only work if he could continue to disable Russia in the process though.
There was far too much might in the idea.
Russia continued slurring, playing with a bit of Lithuania’s hair as he did. “They’re coming.”
“Who’s coming?” Lithuania breathed.
Russia ignored him. “He’s coming, an’ he’s gonna wreck everything. He’s going to break us apart.”
Lithuania stiffened in excitement as an irrational idea forced itself into his brain. Rescue!
He quickly tamped down those high hopes, and concentrating on not upsetting the drunken nation above him.
Russia coughed and mumbled something in a high, unintelligible whimper. “I tried,” he whined, pressing a hand into his forehead. “I tried so hard. I wanted to make everyone happy, but everything went wrong. I just want him to go away.”
His hand dropped and he looked back to Lithuania, who tried to sink further into the cushions. Russia stroked his cheek, trying to be gentle, but clumsily digging his fingernails into Lithuania’s skin.
“Yer so pretty, Toris,” he slurred.
“Mr. Russia, please,” Lithuania began. His every instinct was screaming danger at him, but there was no way to get away from Russia. He could only tug uselessly at the bonds around his wrists and ankles.
Russia smiled, washing Lithuania in alcohol and making his head swim. “Don’ worry, Toris. I won’ let ‘im get you. I won’ let him take you away.”
“Russia, let me go!” Lithuania shouted, fear erupting through all of his usual caution. He was an independent nation and now rescue was visible on the horizon. And he wasn’t going to let Russia take it from him.
“I won’ let you leave,” Russia continued, voice growing in garbled volume. “He doesn’t get to have you.”
“Russia-!” Lithuania was cut off mid-breath as Russia’s hand suddenly slammed down over his nose and mouth.
He shut his eyes and tried to will it to be so. He heard the footsteps pause, a few moments of heavy breathing, and then the door opened.
No. I’m asleep. Go away…
“Toris,” Russia whined.
Lithuania was silent, still keeping up the pretense, as hopeless as it seemed. Russia stumbled further into the room and the bed shook as he slumped onto the mattress. Lithuania could smell the alcohol coming off of Russia, as thick as if he were sweating the stuff.
“Toris!” Russia repeated. Lithuania heard the slosh of liquid in a bottle, and then Russia swallowing clumsily.
Hesitantly, Lithuania opened his eyes. Russia was sitting sprawled on Lithuania’s bed. One hand was holding his red, bleary face, the other clutching the neck of a half-empty vodka bottle. The large nation shook as he took another swig.
“It’s all over,” he slurred, swinging out wildly with the arm holding the vodka. Lithuania winced and shut his eyes and drops of alcohol rained onto his face and chest. “All of it.”
“Mr. Russia…” Lithuania said quietly.
Russia looked down at him and Lithuania’s voice failed him even as his heart rate jumped upwards. The vodka bottle dropped from Russia’s fingers, and the other country leaned over him heavily, so that his round, red face dominated Lithuania’s vision. He could see the tears gathering in the corners of Russia’s eyes. Lithuania’s own eyes began to water as Russia’s reeking breath washed over him in sickly wave.
One of Russia’s hands clumsily wrapped around Lithuania’s head, tangling a few strands of hair around his thick fingers.
“Y’have such pretty hair, Toris,” he muttered.
Lithuania wondered if he could bring Russia down with a well-placed knee to the abdomen. It might work, but then there was still the problem of his bound legs. He might have a chance if he could get to the vodka bottle, break it, and use it to the cut the cord. That plan would only work if he could continue to disable Russia in the process though.
There was far too much might in the idea.
Russia continued slurring, playing with a bit of Lithuania’s hair as he did. “They’re coming.”
“Who’s coming?” Lithuania breathed.
Russia ignored him. “He’s coming, an’ he’s gonna wreck everything. He’s going to break us apart.”
Lithuania stiffened in excitement as an irrational idea forced itself into his brain. Rescue!
He quickly tamped down those high hopes, and concentrating on not upsetting the drunken nation above him.
Russia coughed and mumbled something in a high, unintelligible whimper. “I tried,” he whined, pressing a hand into his forehead. “I tried so hard. I wanted to make everyone happy, but everything went wrong. I just want him to go away.”
His hand dropped and he looked back to Lithuania, who tried to sink further into the cushions. Russia stroked his cheek, trying to be gentle, but clumsily digging his fingernails into Lithuania’s skin.
“Yer so pretty, Toris,” he slurred.
“Mr. Russia, please,” Lithuania began. His every instinct was screaming danger at him, but there was no way to get away from Russia. He could only tug uselessly at the bonds around his wrists and ankles.
Russia smiled, washing Lithuania in alcohol and making his head swim. “Don’ worry, Toris. I won’ let ‘im get you. I won’ let him take you away.”
“Russia, let me go!” Lithuania shouted, fear erupting through all of his usual caution. He was an independent nation and now rescue was visible on the horizon. And he wasn’t going to let Russia take it from him.
“I won’ let you leave,” Russia continued, voice growing in garbled volume. “He doesn’t get to have you.”
“Russia-!” Lithuania was cut off mid-breath as Russia’s hand suddenly slammed down over his nose and mouth.
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