Appreciation [2/5]
anonymous
February 7 2009, 03:58:37 UTC
As soon as the ludicrousness of the situation began to wear off a little, Lithuania pulled away from his still-tearful brother and straightened him up. “Listen, Estonia. You can't let what Ukraine or anybody else thinks bother you, okay?”
The younger nation was silent, staring at his knees.
“Look,” continued Lithuania gently. He tilted Estonia's chin up and gently removed his glasses, folding them and laying them on the bedside table. Immediately Estonia's world became a grainy haze, and he tried not to panic over the temporary loss of his eyesight. “You aren't ugly. You're not even plain. You are,” he said firmly, brushing his thumb over one tear-puffed cheek to wipe away the moisture that still gathered there, “a very good-looking young man.” Lithuania smiled, hoping it might encourage Estonia to do the same.
“Y-you don't think so,” argued Estonia softly, an edge of suspicion making his voice sharp. “You're just being nice, because I'm your brother.”
“That isn't true!” insisted Lithuania. “If you took some time to really look at yourself with your glasses off, you'd see it too. If you could see the face I'm looking at right now, I promise you, you would find yourself quite an attractive person.”
“...Lithuania...” They were too close, Estonia thought, but it was a rather idle observation, and when the other's hand dropped to cover his own, he didn't move.
Though even this close all of his brother's features seemed hazy and undefined, Estonia could make out enough to tell that Lithuania's eyes were roaming over his face, completely earnest, not mocking or pitying or judging but simply appreciating, and Estonia discovered that he wasn't averse to this kind of attention. Heat rose in his cheeks, but he resisted the urge to fix his gaze on the bedspread again. Lithuania's face was so close that he could feel the faint heat from it on his own skin, a misting of breath from his brother's lips just barely reaching across the distance between them. Not entirely because of the embarrassment of the scrutiny, Estonia swallowed.
“I think it's your eyes,” Lithuania finally announced in a quiet but decisive tone. The sudden splintering of the room's silence shot through Estonia like an arrow, and he blinked, the spell broken. “They really are your best feature. That's why your glasses make such a difference.”
“O-oh,” squeaked Estonia. The older nation pulled back, his kind smile going a little more out of focus until Estonia could no longer make it out as more than a slightly darker, pinker smudge in the rest of Lithuania's face. “May I - ” He cleared his throat, blinked. Though suddenly much less stifling, the air in the room still sat heavy on his lungs. “May I have my glasses back, please? I can't see without them, and if I stumble into something Russia will be really upset - ”
Fuzzy as it was, the side-to-side motion of Lithuania's head was clear enough a signal.
“Why...not...?”
Lithuania leaned in again and suddenly the room seemed to shrink down around the two of them, even smaller than it had been before. “Would it be...” - a dash of pink that was almost certainly Lithuania's tongue darting out to wet his lips; was he nervous? - “would it be all right, Estonia...”
“What?” prompted the other, not quite audible - not quite breathing.
The eldest brother's voice was even softer huskier than usual as he finished: “Would it be all right if I kissed you?”
The younger nation was silent, staring at his knees.
“Look,” continued Lithuania gently. He tilted Estonia's chin up and gently removed his glasses, folding them and laying them on the bedside table. Immediately Estonia's world became a grainy haze, and he tried not to panic over the temporary loss of his eyesight. “You aren't ugly. You're not even plain. You are,” he said firmly, brushing his thumb over one tear-puffed cheek to wipe away the moisture that still gathered there, “a very good-looking young man.” Lithuania smiled, hoping it might encourage Estonia to do the same.
“Y-you don't think so,” argued Estonia softly, an edge of suspicion making his voice sharp. “You're just being nice, because I'm your brother.”
“That isn't true!” insisted Lithuania. “If you took some time to really look at yourself with your glasses off, you'd see it too. If you could see the face I'm looking at right now, I promise you, you would find yourself quite an attractive person.”
“...Lithuania...” They were too close, Estonia thought, but it was a rather idle observation, and when the other's hand dropped to cover his own, he didn't move.
Though even this close all of his brother's features seemed hazy and undefined, Estonia could make out enough to tell that Lithuania's eyes were roaming over his face, completely earnest, not mocking or pitying or judging but simply appreciating, and Estonia discovered that he wasn't averse to this kind of attention. Heat rose in his cheeks, but he resisted the urge to fix his gaze on the bedspread again. Lithuania's face was so close that he could feel the faint heat from it on his own skin, a misting of breath from his brother's lips just barely reaching across the distance between them. Not entirely because of the embarrassment of the scrutiny, Estonia swallowed.
“I think it's your eyes,” Lithuania finally announced in a quiet but decisive tone. The sudden splintering of the room's silence shot through Estonia like an arrow, and he blinked, the spell broken. “They really are your best feature. That's why your glasses make such a difference.”
“O-oh,” squeaked Estonia. The older nation pulled back, his kind smile going a little more out of focus until Estonia could no longer make it out as more than a slightly darker, pinker smudge in the rest of Lithuania's face. “May I - ” He cleared his throat, blinked. Though suddenly much less stifling, the air in the room still sat heavy on his lungs. “May I have my glasses back, please? I can't see without them, and if I stumble into something Russia will be really upset - ”
Fuzzy as it was, the side-to-side motion of Lithuania's head was clear enough a signal.
“Why...not...?”
Lithuania leaned in again and suddenly the room seemed to shrink down around the two of them, even smaller than it had been before. “Would it be...” - a dash of pink that was almost certainly Lithuania's tongue darting out to wet his lips; was he nervous? - “would it be all right, Estonia...”
“What?” prompted the other, not quite audible - not quite breathing.
The eldest brother's voice was even softer huskier than usual as he finished: “Would it be all right if I kissed you?”
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