Cold Seduction (32a/32)
anonymous
December 16 2010, 06:24:32 UTC
America’s words had been so suddenly cut off by some random idiot waiter accidentally bumping into the table, knocking the wine glasses over to spill on America’s pants.
“Oh, dear! I’m so sorry, sir…I’ll clean up right away…” The low, refined voice quietly muttered as the man fumbled around with the glasses on the floor, keeping his face down.
“Don’t worry, I’ll take care of it,” France asserted himself forward to clean up the mess, “You just get some more drinks for this lovely couple.” He sent the man off without even taking a moment to look at him because internally he was absolutely frustrated. He wiped up the table furiously to vent out his anxiety. He was so close! THIS…FREAKING…CLOSE!
The minutes for the anonymous waiter to return with new glasses of wine took an agonizing eternity to pass, for Alfred, Francis, and Natalia. When the waiter finally returned, he appeared to avert his gaze in embarrassment and quietly muttered,
“Forgive me for that mishap, these two are on the house…”
By this time, Francis had returned to his hiding post to watch the rest of the young couple’s evening play out.
“Ahem, as I was saying…It’s been fun having you around and all, but I just feel like something isn’t right with the way things are…” Alfred continued, his normal confidence starting to run down the drain.
“Go on.” Natalia rested her chin on her fist as she stared at him, waiting for him to just say what she thought he was going to say. Her piercing light eyes nearly cut the chords in his throat. His words escaped as his mouth ran dry, so he decided one last sip should do the trick for him. Taking a deep breath, he reached for his wine glass and gulped down the contents slowly, savoring every last drop.
A few weeks later
France tried to keep himself from weeping as he buttoned up his formal suit, but when he gazed at himself in the mirror, one tear escaped down his cheek.
“Poor Alfred…Poor poor America…the boy had so much potential…so much in store for him.” He whimpered to his own reflection. He tried to wipe his tears away, because he did not want to arrive at the church with puffy red eyes, even if such a sight was common at these occasions. If he didn’t leave soon, England would beat him there, but then again, he was already expecting that.
The ride to the chapel was bittersweet, such beautiful and elegant decorations for a somber occasion. Once he was there, he noticed how everything was exactly as planned, the large black limousine waited outside the church, and flowers were present at every corner. Everyone showed up in their nicest clothes, because Alfred deserved only the best. He took his seat in the back so no one would see his sorrow.
“Dearly Beloved,” The priest began the ceremony, “we are gathered here today…”
Too young…He was far too young…
“…to celebrate the joining of this man and this woman in holy matrimony.”
“Oh, dear! I’m so sorry, sir…I’ll clean up right away…” The low, refined voice quietly muttered as the man fumbled around with the glasses on the floor, keeping his face down.
“Don’t worry, I’ll take care of it,” France asserted himself forward to clean up the mess, “You just get some more drinks for this lovely couple.” He sent the man off without even taking a moment to look at him because internally he was absolutely frustrated. He wiped up the table furiously to vent out his anxiety. He was so close! THIS…FREAKING…CLOSE!
The minutes for the anonymous waiter to return with new glasses of wine took an agonizing eternity to pass, for Alfred, Francis, and Natalia. When the waiter finally returned, he appeared to avert his gaze in embarrassment and quietly muttered,
“Forgive me for that mishap, these two are on the house…”
By this time, Francis had returned to his hiding post to watch the rest of the young couple’s evening play out.
“Ahem, as I was saying…It’s been fun having you around and all, but I just feel like something isn’t right with the way things are…” Alfred continued, his normal confidence starting to run down the drain.
“Go on.” Natalia rested her chin on her fist as she stared at him, waiting for him to just say what she thought he was going to say. Her piercing light eyes nearly cut the chords in his throat. His words escaped as his mouth ran dry, so he decided one last sip should do the trick for him. Taking a deep breath, he reached for his wine glass and gulped down the contents slowly, savoring every last drop.
A few weeks later
France tried to keep himself from weeping as he buttoned up his formal suit, but when he gazed at himself in the mirror, one tear escaped down his cheek.
“Poor Alfred…Poor poor America…the boy had so much potential…so much in store for him.” He whimpered to his own reflection. He tried to wipe his tears away, because he did not want to arrive at the church with puffy red eyes, even if such a sight was common at these occasions. If he didn’t leave soon, England would beat him there, but then again, he was already expecting that.
The ride to the chapel was bittersweet, such beautiful and elegant decorations for a somber occasion. Once he was there, he noticed how everything was exactly as planned, the large black limousine waited outside the church, and flowers were present at every corner. Everyone showed up in their nicest clothes, because Alfred deserved only the best. He took his seat in the back so no one would see his sorrow.
“Dearly Beloved,” The priest began the ceremony, “we are gathered here today…”
Too young…He was far too young…
“…to celebrate the joining of this man and this woman in holy matrimony.”
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