Still Cold [3/3]
anonymous
February 10 2009, 23:37:32 UTC
They'd ended up doing that a lot. Getting shouted at by other nations, then going out for a drink. For a while it was a standing date. They would sit at the bar and make an effort to look like they weren't there together. Once a few drinks were in them, and the liquor had washed down all the false platitudes and the genuine, frustrated desire to make friends, more of those understanding silences would bloom.
America could never say, for example: What the fuck do you all expect from me, anyway? If I stay out of things, you hate me, and if I try to get involved, you hate me. I think the only way you'd be happy is if you could order me around like a trained dog--send an army here, give medicine to them, pull out of that place, now go back to your dog house and be quiet until we need you again. And you'd still blame me for all of your problems, because if I tried to defend myself you'd call it ignorance and arrogance--and because being not me makes it easier for you to define what you are. You have no idea of the pressure I deal with! Nobody has ever had the reach and responsibilities of a modern superpower. I'm doing the best I can! I want to protect and save everyone, and make everybody happy, and even when you all spit at me I try to keep my confidence up, because I somehow ended up having all this power and I have to try to use it to make good things happen. If I listened to you lot, I'd be paralyzed with self-doubt. Fuck, can't you see that I'm just humoring you anyway? If you could do whatever the hell you wanted, would you be any better than I am?
And Russia could never say the exact same thing.
He didn't remember what combination of looks, drinks, and lingering gestures had deposited them both in front of Russia's door one night. Normally they split up the second they hit the street. It didn't matter; that time they'd pulled it off. They did the little "You're too drunk to walk home; I have a couch; don't get too comfortable, asshole" routine out of obligation, but neither of them were surprised when Alfred ended up in his room, and it was dark, and they were both cold on their own, and--
They didn't talk about it afterwards, the same way they didn't talk about anything that mattered. The conversations they didn't have spilled between them like seconds through a clock. They didn't talk about it the next time it happened, either, some time later, or the time after that, except for when Alfred muttered as they drifted off to sleep that if Russia woke up first this time, he could at least make some fucking coffee.
It wasn't a romance.
It was just that America needed Russia in order to be America, the same way Russia needed America in order to be Russia.
He poured the coffee just as Russia put the pirozhki into the oven. He went to stand beside the other nation, and offered him a mug when he stood.
He said, "Got any plans for today?"
He didn't say, You can stay, if you want. I know we don't love each other--we don't even like each other. But you're the only person in the world who actually makes me feel not lonely.
And Ivan didn't say, I would. But we only have so much time before we have to decide between an alliance and a war, and every minute in your company counts against it. I'd rather put that off for now.
Re: Still Cold [3/3]
anonymous
February 11 2009, 02:47:41 UTC
This is frikken' sweet! Anon, I love the way you portray their relationship. Not a romance, but a thing of necessity, and how they help define each other - and the ways in which they are the same, even though they're different.
Re: Still Cold [3/3]
anonymous
June 26 2009, 05:16:25 UTC
This was a gorgeous look at the possible relationship between the two. I utterly loved America's thoughts on being a world superpower and the ending was bittersweet and perfect. I love you for this.
Re: Still Cold [3/3]
anonymous
January 8 2010, 01:54:48 UTC
I...I don't know what to say. I don't even know how to classify this? Is it fluff? Is it angst? T_T. As an American and as a US/UK fan, all I can say is poor America (cheer up Alfie! You can always pose as Matthew!)
Re: Still Cold [3/3]
anonymous
July 31 2011, 07:46:39 UTC
Brilliant job Author Anon. I love how you filled this story with so much loud silence until it was shouting at me from the screen. I especially enjoyed the tirade in the bar part. I could really picture it in my head. If it was a movie I could see it switching between close ups of both Russia and America as they each said a line in a voice over, one right after another, seamless. Again, simply brilliant
America could never say, for example: What the fuck do you all expect from me, anyway? If I stay out of things, you hate me, and if I try to get involved, you hate me. I think the only way you'd be happy is if you could order me around like a trained dog--send an army here, give medicine to them, pull out of that place, now go back to your dog house and be quiet until we need you again. And you'd still blame me for all of your problems, because if I tried to defend myself you'd call it ignorance and arrogance--and because being not me makes it easier for you to define what you are. You have no idea of the pressure I deal with! Nobody has ever had the reach and responsibilities of a modern superpower. I'm doing the best I can! I want to protect and save everyone, and make everybody happy, and even when you all spit at me I try to keep my confidence up, because I somehow ended up having all this power and I have to try to use it to make good things happen. If I listened to you lot, I'd be paralyzed with self-doubt. Fuck, can't you see that I'm just humoring you anyway? If you could do whatever the hell you wanted, would you be any better than I am?
And Russia could never say the exact same thing.
He didn't remember what combination of looks, drinks, and lingering gestures had deposited them both in front of Russia's door one night. Normally they split up the second they hit the street. It didn't matter; that time they'd pulled it off. They did the little "You're too drunk to walk home; I have a couch; don't get too comfortable, asshole" routine out of obligation, but neither of them were surprised when Alfred ended up in his room, and it was dark, and they were both cold on their own, and--
They didn't talk about it afterwards, the same way they didn't talk about anything that mattered. The conversations they didn't have spilled between them like seconds through a clock. They didn't talk about it the next time it happened, either, some time later, or the time after that, except for when Alfred muttered as they drifted off to sleep that if Russia woke up first this time, he could at least make some fucking coffee.
It wasn't a romance.
It was just that America needed Russia in order to be America, the same way Russia needed America in order to be Russia.
He poured the coffee just as Russia put the pirozhki into the oven. He went to stand beside the other nation, and offered him a mug when he stood.
He said, "Got any plans for today?"
He didn't say, You can stay, if you want. I know we don't love each other--we don't even like each other. But you're the only person in the world who actually makes me feel not lonely.
And Ivan didn't say, I would. But we only have so much time before we have to decide between an alliance and a war, and every minute in your company counts against it. I'd rather put that off for now.
Instead, he said, "Business."
"I understand," America said, and he did.
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Really really beautiful.
So beautiful that I will make a hardcopy of it and stick it in my 'fanfic' folder.
Lovely lovely writing style. Great plot.
You made my night.
Xx
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And Russia/America fluff? Here I thought that would be impossible but you pulled it off, anon. ♥
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Anon, I love the way you portray their relationship. Not a romance, but a thing of necessity, and how they help define each other - and the ways in which they are the same, even though they're different.
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Great job, anon!
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Excellent work, anon! <3
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Absolutely won.der.ful
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I especially enjoyed the tirade in the bar part. I could really picture it in my head. If it was a movie I could see it switching between close ups of both Russia and America as they each said a line in a voice over, one right after another, seamless.
Again, simply brilliant
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