Re: Lights Will Guide You Home [2/?]
anonymous
March 27 2009, 01:49:29 UTC
Alfred felt his face get warmer and knew that his fate was sealed. He just hoped that Ivan was only planning on staying for a day or two. He walked over to the Russian man, and held out his hand help him up. If Ivan was going to be a guest, he might as well be a little nice to him. Ivan accepeted the offer and took the man's hand, then got himself up with his assistance. Once he was standing, he let go of his hand, and Alfred suddenly wondered what his hands must've felt like under those gloves.
Bah. They were probably just as cold as his gloves were. He didn't know why he questioned it. Since Ivan didn't know much about where everything was in the house, Alfred had to lead him to the bedroom, and he followed silently behind. In the bedroom, Alfred faced a difficult challenge, and that involved clothes. Neither of what they were wearing was comfortable enough to sleep in, so they'd have to take them off. As he was thinking about this, he soon noticed that Ivan was rummaging through his drawers. He was about to yell at him for it, but then Ivan pulled out a large t-shirt and that changed his mind.
"I don't have any pajamas. You don't mind if I borrow some clothes, yes?" Ivan asked while looking over at him innocently.
Alfred nodded, and the older man quickly started to unbutton his coat. Alfred turned around and started to take his stuff off while he waited. He really didn't want to watch Ivan get dressed. The thought caused the foreign feeling emerge again, so he shook it away once again. He had chosen to keep his pants on and just leave himself topless, while Ivan had a white shirt on that barely reached his navel with just his pale pink boxers on. Since neither of them would be just in their underwear, Alfred felt a lot better, but he was tempted to laugh at the man's choice of boxers. They crawled into bed, and got themselves comfortable.
Ivan turned to face Alfred and said, "Thanks for letting me stay."
"It's no problem," Alfred said back with a grin, "A hero always helps out those in need."
"Oh? So living with you means I'm in need?"
"Why else would you come to me of all people? You obviously knew that as the kind hero I am, I would gladly shelter you for as long as needed."
"Right. It was because of that," Ivan mumbled in an almost sad voice, then turned away from Alfred.
Alfred did the same and sighed as he closed his eyes.
How was he going to explain to Arthur that the largest and most unstable country was in his hands now?
Lights Will Guide You Home [3/?]
anonymous
March 27 2009, 23:05:14 UTC
Ivan opened his eyes the next morning, and was greeted by a warm, welcoming scent that filled the air. He sat up from the bed and looked over where Alfred had slept, noticing that he wasn't there. Curiously, he crawled out of bed, and followed the sweetening scent into the kitchen. There he spotted Alfred wide awake and fully dressed with a white apron on, flipping pancakes from the frying pan onto two plates. Alfred turned his head to see Ivan was there, but instead of being surprised he just grinned at him with those pearly whites of his.
"I knew you'd wake up eventually. Not even the dead can resist the smell of my awesome pancakes!"
Ivan couldn't help but smile back, just a little, at the American. "I didn't think you ate anything other than those burgers."
"That's lunch," Alfred stated, then turned his attention back to the pancakes before they burned.
Ivan pulled out a chair and sat down while he waited for the pancakes to be finished. It was strange how Alfred's mood suddenly changed overnight. At first he seemed reluctant to let him stay, but now here he was happily making him breakfast. He was relieved though. Without the Soviet, he really didn't have a place to live in anymore. It just felt so empty without it.
When it had broken down, he had no other place to go. He could've asked Toris, but he really didn't want to risk Warsaw becoming his capital. Everyone else were either people he didn't know well, refused to even speak with him, or was obsessed with marrying him. Then when all seemed lost, he thought about shining blue eyes, sunflowered colored hair, and comforting arms that took in anyone that needed a new home.
He snapped out of his thoughts when a plate was placed in front of him, along with a bottle of maple syrup, a jar of strawberry jelly, and half a stick of butter. He stared at the items blankly, then looked over at Alfred's plate that was practicaly drowned in enough of the items to give anyone normal a heart attack. Only Alfred could shove so much calories and cholesterol into his body, and not show a hint of chubbiness.
"I didn't know how much you wanted, so I left your pancakes plain," Alfred explained, and dug right into the pile of goo on his plate.
Ivan shrugged, then spread a more decent amount of butter and maple syrup onto his portion. After that, he cut up a piece and took a bite, savoring the taste so he could give Alfred an accurate opinion of his cooking. He wound up grinning from ear to ear, and giggled like a little child.
"America is a very good cook," Ivan admitted, taking more bites of Alfred's strangely delicious pancakes.
Alfred blushed a little and rubbed the back of his head bashfully. "Aw really? I told you my cooking was good!"
They sat there the rest of the time enjoying their meal, Alfred gabbering on about random things while Ivan simply nodded his head in response. Once they had finished, Ivan was about to help Alfred clean up, but he shook his head.
"You're my guest. Can't let you do the work while you're here."
Lights Will Guide You Home [4/?]
anonymous
March 28 2009, 02:39:38 UTC
Alfred sighed and left the dirty dishes in the sink to go answer the phone in the other room. Really, who would be calling this early in the morning? He could only think of one person, and they were the last person he wanted to talk to right now. He picked up the phone and held it a few inches from his ear just in case.
"Hello?"
"About bloody time you answered!" The man on the other line shouted.
"Morning to you too, England," Alfred sighed then brought the phone closer to his ear, "So what's up? I just saw you yesterday, so I didn't think you'd call back so soon. Miss me already?"
"Like hell I am. I actually called to be nice enough to warn you about Russia. Apparently he's out on the loose. You should be careful since you could be considered a target. What with being old enemies and all that."
Alfred was relieved Arthur couldn't see him smirking and rolling his eyes. As nice as the warning was, Arthur was just a little too late.
"I've been meaning to tell you about that. Russia already showed up." The line was silent for a while, and Alfred thought Arthur might've hung up.
"That bastard! He... He didn't do anything bad, right?" Arthur finally said, but now in a more worried tone instead of his usual annoyed one.
Not able to hold back any longer, Alfred bursted out laughing then replied, "That's the strange part! You're not going to believe it, but Russia is staying here."
"WHAAAT?!"
Alfred immediately regretted puttting the phone closer to his ear. Arthur's reaction was expected, so he should've known better. He switched it over to the other side while rubbing his poor eardrums.
"Geez man. I think I just went deaf."
"Well you deserve it! Are you mad, America?! Russia is right there in your house, and you're just going to let him stay? That's practically suicide, you git!"
"Oh come on, England. You should know I can't turn him away. I was thinking of using a gun on him or something, but you need to take a good look at him. He really needs a place to stay."
Arthur sighed, and Alfred could imagine him shaking his head at him. He knew quite well that you could give Alfred your tired, your poor, and your huddled masses yearning to breathe free. So what made Ivan any different? He gave up on aruging with the foolish American.
"Fine. Do what you want. It's not like I'll be coming to your funeral," Arthur said lastly then hung up.
Alfred pouted at how Arthur so rudely hung up on him like that, especially with what he said before doing so. Well that's fine with him too. He wasn't planning on coming to his funeral either. As he put the phone down, he noticed that Ivan was standing behind the kitchen door, peaking his head out curiously. Alfred wondered how long Ivan had been there, but he didn't bother asking it out loud. He didn't say anything bad about the large man, so he had nothing to worry about.
"Sorry about that. Just had to explain things to daddy dearest," Alfred explained in a slightly sarcastic tone, causing the Russian to smile a bit.
Strangely enough, Alfred could've sworn he saw a tiny spark of life in those souless eyes, just for a quick second.
Lights Will Guide You Home [5/?]
anonymous
March 28 2009, 19:40:44 UTC
(You're welcome, OP. Glad you like it.) ---
Over the past week the two lived to together, it was peaceful to say the least. You'd expected them to bicker about politics, lifestyles, or anything else that made them different from each other. But no. They actually got along quite well. If you count them hardly speaking to each other as getting along anyway.
It wasn't like they completely ignored each other. In fact, it was the opposite. They usually ate meals together while enjoying each other's company, then would separate to do their own things. Sure Alfred would talk on about things that happened to him the other day, but Ivan mostly remained silent and just listened. A smile or a tiny giggle might emerge from him now and then, but that was all. Only when he had something important to say did he speak.
Alfred soon wondered how much longer the large man would stay here with him. He never asked him, and he doubted he'd get an answer from him so there was no point. Still, he was starting to get used to the company. Plus it was great having someone listen to him go on, unlike Arthur who would get annoyed before he could finish. Also, as he found out, Ivan made really good borsch. Alfred had been surprised to see Ivan in the kitchen one day making some before he could make lunch.
"Soup is very important in a Russian meal," Ivan had explained, and he left it at that.
He wasn't the only one though that was trying new things. Ivan, much to his dismay, gave those hamburgers Alfred always ate a try, and discovered that they weren't half bad. At least now he knew he could stomach the fattening meat whenever Alfred made him eat it. So in the end, their usual lunch and sometimes dinner contained burgers and borsch, along with anything new they wanted to try.
When they weren't eating, the day went on like a routine. Alfred would either be out hanging with some friends, or helping out his boss. Meanwhile Ivan stayed at home, briefly speaking Russian to people on the phone, then laid on the uncomfortable couch until Alfred returned. Alfred had tried to convince the Russian to go out with him a few times, seeing how he must've been lonely waiting for him, but Ivan never responded so he took it as a no. Then after another week pasted by, Ivan finally agreed to go.
He could've sworn Ivan seemed nervous as they entered the bar, but it was hard to tell these days. Though the man did appear to recover from his loss more and more each day, those eyes of his still looked back at him like amethysts, showing nothing more than his reflection. As they sat down on the stools, the group that included Francis, Yao, and Arthur fell silent and stared at the two. They all knew about the situation since Alfred had explained it to them all, but they probably weren't expecting him to actually show up.
Alfred grinned like his usual self and said, "Hey guys. Russia's going to be joining up today."
"I did not think la Russie would come out of hiding," Francis commented.
"Yeah. Like you know all about hiding," Arthur remarked then took a chug of his drink.
Yao looked down at his glass then glanced over at Ivan. "Do you still want everyone to become one with you, aru?"
All eyes were on Ivan, curious to see how he would reply. Ivan simply nodded his head, and no one questioned him after that. Currently no one was afraid of him taking over their country. Right now all they were only concerned about was his mental stability, along with the fact that Alfred of all people was taking care of him. How much longer could it last this way?
Ivan found the time they spent there to be oddly casual, especially when insults got tossed around a few times until they gulped down their drinks and forget what they were talking about a minute ago. He also noted how Arthur collasped after his third drink, and he was still sober on his forth glass of vodka. For someone that used to drink rum like it was water, Arthur wasn't all that proud looking.
When it was time to go, Ivan and Alfred waved good bye to Francis and Yao, who were dragging Arthur back to his place. As they walked home, Alfred talked on sluggishly about stuff about Arthur and the others, while Ivan listened as usual.
Then suddenly, a small light flickered in the distance.
Lights Will Guide You Home [6/?]
anonymous
March 28 2009, 23:33:30 UTC
Ivan blinked, confused about what he just saw. Another light appeared, but shortly faded away afterwards. He over to Alfred, and noticed that the American seemed kind of happy about the myserious lights.
"Hey. The fireflies are here early this year," Alfred said.
Ivan tilted his head slightly. Fireflies? The name sounded familiar, but he couldn't recall where he'd heard it from. Still, he supposed it was right to call them flies since they looked about the same size, but the fire part didn't make sense because the light was a yellow-green color, not an orange-red.
Alfred realized that Ivan had probably never even seen fireflies before, so he decided he might as well show him. He grabbed the man's hand without thinking it about, and started to drag him towards the lights.
"Come on!" Alfred insisted, now more sober.
Alfred felt Ivan tighten the grip on his hand, and took it as a sign of acceptance. Then when that thought past through his mind, he felt his cheeks burn up a little. He continued to move forward with Ivan following close behind, but he was somewhat forced on their hands. Ivan hadn't worn gloves, due to the weather getting too warm for them, so he was able to feel his hands that hid underneath. They were rough, as expected from being worn out over the years, but they also radiated some warmth. Maybe Ivan wasn't all that cold as he seemed to be after all.
He noticed the light move over a grassy hill, and he decided to follow it up there. When they reached the top of the hill, they could see nearly a hundred fireflies shining there lights on the other side of the hill. Both astonised from the sight, they dashed down the hill to join the insects.
"Wow... I didn't think there'd be so many," Ivan commented as he looked around with wide eyes.
Alfred shrugged. "They like to gather all in one place."
"Why is that?"
"I don't know," Alfred answered, "Maybe they don't want to be separated from their family."
"Family..." Ivan murmured back softly.
Alfred spotted a lone firefly float in front of them, and he quickly snatched it in his hands. Alfred chuckled at Ivan's surprised expression and opened his hands halfway, revealing the bug inside.
"See? This is what they look like up close," Alfred explained.
Ivan looked in and nodded his head, then watched Alfred open his hands completely so it could fly away. Ivan couldn't help but be jealous of the fireflies. All they had to do was flicker their lights, and they could find their way home. Meanwhile he didn't have a home to go to.
Alfred noticed Ivan seemed depressed, and started to grow worried. "Something wrong? I had to let it go."
Ivan shook his head. "No. That's not it. I... I just wish I had a family like it does."
"But what about..."
"They don't count," Ivan interrupted, "Yes they are biologically, but they don't act like it anymore. As for the others, they never seemed to think of it that way."
"Ivan..." Alfred frowned and placed a comforting hand on the man's shoulder. "Is this why you're so insist on everyone coming one with you?"
Ivan simply smiled, then said, "It's not that simple, America. You hardly know anything about me, so don't think you're smart for figuring something so obvious out."
Alfred huffed and took his hand off his shoulder. "Well excuse me for trying."
Then for the first time, Ivan laughed, not giggled, but truly laughed at the American. Alfred would've taken it as an insult, but he was taken back by how happy he looked as he did so. For whatever reason, it made his heart skip a beat, and he wondered if he was finally getting a heart attack from all those burgers. Eventually Ivan stopped laughing, and Alfred held out a hand for the Russian.
"Let's head back. It's getting late."
Ivan looked out at the fireflies, saddened to have to leave so soon, but took his hand anyway. As they headed back over the hill, Alfred wondered why he was acting so strange. There was just something, he wasn't sure what exactly, about Ivan that made him flutter up lately. He thought back to the insects, and realized one thing he hadn't seen before that might have something to do with it.
Maybe it was from the lights, but Ivan's eyes seemed to sparkle with an unknown emotion that proved he was alive.
Lights Will Guide You Home [7/?]
anonymous
March 29 2009, 19:26:48 UTC
Ever since that night with the fireflies, Alfred started to become more observant about his feelings. He hadn't noticed before how often the Russian man would make him blush just by smiling. What made things weirder was that it was happening more frequently, along with the fact that his heart wasn't acting normal. He was considering going to a doctor about that, but he doubted he'd understand if he explained that it happened everytime his former enemy did something like laugh or touch him.
He tried to see if maybe it was just coincidence. He watched other people blush, laugh, and briefly brush against him, but it hardly triggered anything. Only Arthur seemed to stir something, but it was nothing compared to how Ivan had him feeling. He was so confused about the situation that he was tempted to just go up to the man himself, and ask him why the hell he was making him this way. Well he did do that several weeks later, but not the way he planned it to be.
That day he was making his way to the storage room to at least try to clean it up without stopping midway because of old memories, but Ivan stopped him to ask him if he might need some help. Alfred refused the offer, explaining that he was the guest after all and shouldn't do his work, but soon realized that Ivan had been living with him for a few months.
"Say, how much longer do you plan on staying here anyway?" Alfred finally asked him, knowing that by now he'd be a little more talkative.
Ivan shrugged, then answered, "I don't know."
"What do you mean you don't know? I thought you were just going to stay here until your country got better," Alfred said in a growing annoyed tone.
"I just thought..."
"Thought what? That I wouldn't mind you staying here until you felt like leaving?"
"America... I didn't think-"
"That's right! You didn't think!" Alfred fumed, "You just came into my house, demanded that you stayed here, and didn't plan on when you were leaving?! How the hell am I supposed to react if I wake up one day and you vanished just like that! Huh? Do you have any idea what you're doing to me?!"
Alfred stomped into the storage room and slammed the door shut before Ivan could said anything back. He was relieved that he finally got that out of his system. He knew that Ivan would have to leave soon, and he wanted to get it done and over with. That way his heart could go back to normal, and he wouldn't be so fluttered up all the time. Still, as he thought more about it, he realized that it'd be saddening to see him go. Especially if he just up and left him without saying anything one day.
He sighed and went right to work cleaning up to try to calm himself down. With his mind mostly on Ivan, he hardly had any memories of the past like he usually would, so going through things to throw out was a lot easier. As he was half way through and hoping that he might actually get done for once, he noticed a small, lone box in the back. He pulled it out and opened it, only to be immediately flooded with memories of the past he didn't want.
"Hey, England. Is this really for me?" The little Alfred asked as he stared curiously at the silver locket in Arthur's hand.
Arthur nodded. "Of course."
Alfred beamed with joy as Arthur clasped the locket onto his neck, then kissed his forehead.
"Take good care of it..."
Alfred felt his heart start to beat strangely once more. Why would a kiss on the forehead make him feel so fuzzy inside as a child? Unless... he smacked his forehead at his stupidity. Now he remembered it clearly. Arthur was his first crush until the revolution, and he got rid of everything that reminded him of Arthur after it ended. That would explain why he still felt that way just a tiny bit.
"Wait a minute," he mumbled to himself, "If I felt that way towards Arthur, that means..."
That's when it hit him like a ton of bricks. He dashed out of the room, disregarding the items that needed to be disposed of, and quickly opened the door.
"Russia!"
No response came, and Alfred wondered where he could be. He checked every part of the house from the living room to the bedroom, and failed to find him anywhere. Panic surged through him when he realized that the worst thing he imagined had happened.
Bah. They were probably just as cold as his gloves were. He didn't know why he questioned it. Since Ivan didn't know much about where everything was in the house, Alfred had to lead him to the bedroom, and he followed silently behind. In the bedroom, Alfred faced a difficult challenge, and that involved clothes. Neither of what they were wearing was comfortable enough to sleep in, so they'd have to take them off. As he was thinking about this, he soon noticed that Ivan was rummaging through his drawers. He was about to yell at him for it, but then Ivan pulled out a large t-shirt and that changed his mind.
"I don't have any pajamas. You don't mind if I borrow some clothes, yes?" Ivan asked while looking over at him innocently.
Alfred nodded, and the older man quickly started to unbutton his coat. Alfred turned around and started to take his stuff off while he waited. He really didn't want to watch Ivan get dressed. The thought caused the foreign feeling emerge again, so he shook it away once again. He had chosen to keep his pants on and just leave himself topless, while Ivan had a white shirt on that barely reached his navel with just his pale pink boxers on. Since neither of them would be just in their underwear, Alfred felt a lot better, but he was tempted to laugh at the man's choice of boxers. They crawled into bed, and got themselves comfortable.
Ivan turned to face Alfred and said, "Thanks for letting me stay."
"It's no problem," Alfred said back with a grin, "A hero always helps out those in need."
"Oh? So living with you means I'm in need?"
"Why else would you come to me of all people? You obviously knew that as the kind hero I am, I would gladly shelter you for as long as needed."
"Right. It was because of that," Ivan mumbled in an almost sad voice, then turned away from Alfred.
Alfred did the same and sighed as he closed his eyes.
How was he going to explain to Arthur that the largest and most unstable country was in his hands now?
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anon, wont you finish this pwease? :)
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"I knew you'd wake up eventually. Not even the dead can resist the smell of my awesome pancakes!"
Ivan couldn't help but smile back, just a little, at the American. "I didn't think you ate anything other than those burgers."
"That's lunch," Alfred stated, then turned his attention back to the pancakes before they burned.
Ivan pulled out a chair and sat down while he waited for the pancakes to be finished. It was strange how Alfred's mood suddenly changed overnight. At first he seemed reluctant to let him stay, but now here he was happily making him breakfast. He was relieved though. Without the Soviet, he really didn't have a place to live in anymore. It just felt so empty without it.
When it had broken down, he had no other place to go. He could've asked Toris, but he really didn't want to risk Warsaw becoming his capital. Everyone else were either people he didn't know well, refused to even speak with him, or was obsessed with marrying him. Then when all seemed lost, he thought about shining blue eyes, sunflowered colored hair, and comforting arms that took in anyone that needed a new home.
He snapped out of his thoughts when a plate was placed in front of him, along with a bottle of maple syrup, a jar of strawberry jelly, and half a stick of butter. He stared at the items blankly, then looked over at Alfred's plate that was practicaly drowned in enough of the items to give anyone normal a heart attack. Only Alfred could shove so much calories and cholesterol into his body, and not show a hint of chubbiness.
"I didn't know how much you wanted, so I left your pancakes plain," Alfred explained, and dug right into the pile of goo on his plate.
Ivan shrugged, then spread a more decent amount of butter and maple syrup onto his portion. After that, he cut up a piece and took a bite, savoring the taste so he could give Alfred an accurate opinion of his cooking. He wound up grinning from ear to ear, and giggled like a little child.
"America is a very good cook," Ivan admitted, taking more bites of Alfred's strangely delicious pancakes.
Alfred blushed a little and rubbed the back of his head bashfully. "Aw really? I told you my cooking was good!"
They sat there the rest of the time enjoying their meal, Alfred gabbering on about random things while Ivan simply nodded his head in response. Once they had finished, Ivan was about to help Alfred clean up, but he shook his head.
"You're my guest. Can't let you do the work while you're here."
Then suddenly, the phone started to ring.
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"Hello?"
"About bloody time you answered!" The man on the other line shouted.
"Morning to you too, England," Alfred sighed then brought the phone closer to his ear, "So what's up? I just saw you yesterday, so I didn't think you'd call back so soon. Miss me already?"
"Like hell I am. I actually called to be nice enough to warn you about Russia. Apparently he's out on the loose. You should be careful since you could be considered a target. What with being old enemies and all that."
Alfred was relieved Arthur couldn't see him smirking and rolling his eyes. As nice as the warning was, Arthur was just a little too late.
"I've been meaning to tell you about that. Russia already showed up." The line was silent for a while, and Alfred thought Arthur might've hung up.
"That bastard! He... He didn't do anything bad, right?" Arthur finally said, but now in a more worried tone instead of his usual annoyed one.
Not able to hold back any longer, Alfred bursted out laughing then replied, "That's the strange part! You're not going to believe it, but Russia is staying here."
"WHAAAT?!"
Alfred immediately regretted puttting the phone closer to his ear. Arthur's reaction was expected, so he should've known better. He switched it over to the other side while rubbing his poor eardrums.
"Geez man. I think I just went deaf."
"Well you deserve it! Are you mad, America?! Russia is right there in your house, and you're just going to let him stay? That's practically suicide, you git!"
"Oh come on, England. You should know I can't turn him away. I was thinking of using a gun on him or something, but you need to take a good look at him. He really needs a place to stay."
Arthur sighed, and Alfred could imagine him shaking his head at him. He knew quite well that you could give Alfred your tired, your poor, and your huddled masses yearning to breathe free. So what made Ivan any different? He gave up on aruging with the foolish American.
"Fine. Do what you want. It's not like I'll be coming to your funeral," Arthur said lastly then hung up.
Alfred pouted at how Arthur so rudely hung up on him like that, especially with what he said before doing so. Well that's fine with him too. He wasn't planning on coming to his funeral either. As he put the phone down, he noticed that Ivan was standing behind the kitchen door, peaking his head out curiously. Alfred wondered how long Ivan had been there, but he didn't bother asking it out loud. He didn't say anything bad about the large man, so he had nothing to worry about.
"Sorry about that. Just had to explain things to daddy dearest," Alfred explained in a slightly sarcastic tone, causing the Russian to smile a bit.
Strangely enough, Alfred could've sworn he saw a tiny spark of life in those souless eyes, just for a quick second.
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How cute Arthur his daddy dearest. Thank you Writer Anon ! '_'
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And it's so wonderful. Just what I imagined! I can't wait for the next chapter~<3
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---
Over the past week the two lived to together, it was peaceful to say the least. You'd expected them to bicker about politics, lifestyles, or anything else that made them different from each other. But no. They actually got along quite well. If you count them hardly speaking to each other as getting along anyway.
It wasn't like they completely ignored each other. In fact, it was the opposite. They usually ate meals together while enjoying each other's company, then would separate to do their own things. Sure Alfred would talk on about things that happened to him the other day, but Ivan mostly remained silent and just listened. A smile or a tiny giggle might emerge from him now and then, but that was all. Only when he had something important to say did he speak.
Alfred soon wondered how much longer the large man would stay here with him. He never asked him, and he doubted he'd get an answer from him so there was no point. Still, he was starting to get used to the company. Plus it was great having someone listen to him go on, unlike Arthur who would get annoyed before he could finish. Also, as he found out, Ivan made really good borsch. Alfred had been surprised to see Ivan in the kitchen one day making some before he could make lunch.
"Soup is very important in a Russian meal," Ivan had explained, and he left it at that.
He wasn't the only one though that was trying new things. Ivan, much to his dismay, gave those hamburgers Alfred always ate a try, and discovered that they weren't half bad. At least now he knew he could stomach the fattening meat whenever Alfred made him eat it. So in the end, their usual lunch and sometimes dinner contained burgers and borsch, along with anything new they wanted to try.
When they weren't eating, the day went on like a routine. Alfred would either be out hanging with some friends, or helping out his boss. Meanwhile Ivan stayed at home, briefly speaking Russian to people on the phone, then laid on the uncomfortable couch until Alfred returned. Alfred had tried to convince the Russian to go out with him a few times, seeing how he must've been lonely waiting for him, but Ivan never responded so he took it as a no. Then after another week pasted by, Ivan finally agreed to go.
He could've sworn Ivan seemed nervous as they entered the bar, but it was hard to tell these days. Though the man did appear to recover from his loss more and more each day, those eyes of his still looked back at him like amethysts, showing nothing more than his reflection. As they sat down on the stools, the group that included Francis, Yao, and Arthur fell silent and stared at the two. They all knew about the situation since Alfred had explained it to them all, but they probably weren't expecting him to actually show up.
Alfred grinned like his usual self and said, "Hey guys. Russia's going to be joining up today."
"I did not think la Russie would come out of hiding," Francis commented.
"Yeah. Like you know all about hiding," Arthur remarked then took a chug of his drink.
Yao looked down at his glass then glanced over at Ivan. "Do you still want everyone to become one with you, aru?"
All eyes were on Ivan, curious to see how he would reply. Ivan simply nodded his head, and no one questioned him after that. Currently no one was afraid of him taking over their country. Right now all they were only concerned about was his mental stability, along with the fact that Alfred of all people was taking care of him. How much longer could it last this way?
Ivan found the time they spent there to be oddly casual, especially when insults got tossed around a few times until they gulped down their drinks and forget what they were talking about a minute ago. He also noted how Arthur collasped after his third drink, and he was still sober on his forth glass of vodka. For someone that used to drink rum like it was water, Arthur wasn't all that proud looking.
When it was time to go, Ivan and Alfred waved good bye to Francis and Yao, who were dragging Arthur back to his place. As they walked home, Alfred talked on sluggishly about stuff about Arthur and the others, while Ivan listened as usual.
Then suddenly, a small light flickered in the distance.
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"Hey. The fireflies are here early this year," Alfred said.
Ivan tilted his head slightly. Fireflies? The name sounded familiar, but he couldn't recall where he'd heard it from. Still, he supposed it was right to call them flies since they looked about the same size, but the fire part didn't make sense because the light was a yellow-green color, not an orange-red.
Alfred realized that Ivan had probably never even seen fireflies before, so he decided he might as well show him. He grabbed the man's hand without thinking it about, and started to drag him towards the lights.
"Come on!" Alfred insisted, now more sober.
Alfred felt Ivan tighten the grip on his hand, and took it as a sign of acceptance. Then when that thought past through his mind, he felt his cheeks burn up a little. He continued to move forward with Ivan following close behind, but he was somewhat forced on their hands. Ivan hadn't worn gloves, due to the weather getting too warm for them, so he was able to feel his hands that hid underneath. They were rough, as expected from being worn out over the years, but they also radiated some warmth. Maybe Ivan wasn't all that cold as he seemed to be after all.
He noticed the light move over a grassy hill, and he decided to follow it up there. When they reached the top of the hill, they could see nearly a hundred fireflies shining there lights on the other side of the hill. Both astonised from the sight, they dashed down the hill to join the insects.
"Wow... I didn't think there'd be so many," Ivan commented as he looked around with wide eyes.
Alfred shrugged. "They like to gather all in one place."
"Why is that?"
"I don't know," Alfred answered, "Maybe they don't want to be separated from their family."
"Family..." Ivan murmured back softly.
Alfred spotted a lone firefly float in front of them, and he quickly snatched it in his hands. Alfred chuckled at Ivan's surprised expression and opened his hands halfway, revealing the bug inside.
"See? This is what they look like up close," Alfred explained.
Ivan looked in and nodded his head, then watched Alfred open his hands completely so it could fly away. Ivan couldn't help but be jealous of the fireflies. All they had to do was flicker their lights, and they could find their way home. Meanwhile he didn't have a home to go to.
Alfred noticed Ivan seemed depressed, and started to grow worried. "Something wrong? I had to let it go."
Ivan shook his head. "No. That's not it. I... I just wish I had a family like it does."
"But what about..."
"They don't count," Ivan interrupted, "Yes they are biologically, but they don't act like it anymore. As for the others, they never seemed to think of it that way."
"Ivan..." Alfred frowned and placed a comforting hand on the man's shoulder. "Is this why you're so insist on everyone coming one with you?"
Ivan simply smiled, then said, "It's not that simple, America. You hardly know anything about me, so don't think you're smart for figuring something so obvious out."
Alfred huffed and took his hand off his shoulder. "Well excuse me for trying."
Then for the first time, Ivan laughed, not giggled, but truly laughed at the American. Alfred would've taken it as an insult, but he was taken back by how happy he looked as he did so. For whatever reason, it made his heart skip a beat, and he wondered if he was finally getting a heart attack from all those burgers. Eventually Ivan stopped laughing, and Alfred held out a hand for the Russian.
"Let's head back. It's getting late."
Ivan looked out at the fireflies, saddened to have to leave so soon, but took his hand anyway. As they headed back over the hill, Alfred wondered why he was acting so strange. There was just something, he wasn't sure what exactly, about Ivan that made him flutter up lately. He thought back to the insects, and realized one thing he hadn't seen before that might have something to do with it.
Maybe it was from the lights, but Ivan's eyes seemed to sparkle with an unknown emotion that proved he was alive.
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MOAR!!!
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He tried to see if maybe it was just coincidence. He watched other people blush, laugh, and briefly brush against him, but it hardly triggered anything. Only Arthur seemed to stir something, but it was nothing compared to how Ivan had him feeling. He was so confused about the situation that he was tempted to just go up to the man himself, and ask him why the hell he was making him this way. Well he did do that several weeks later, but not the way he planned it to be.
That day he was making his way to the storage room to at least try to clean it up without stopping midway because of old memories, but Ivan stopped him to ask him if he might need some help. Alfred refused the offer, explaining that he was the guest after all and shouldn't do his work, but soon realized that Ivan had been living with him for a few months.
"Say, how much longer do you plan on staying here anyway?" Alfred finally asked him, knowing that by now he'd be a little more talkative.
Ivan shrugged, then answered, "I don't know."
"What do you mean you don't know? I thought you were just going to stay here until your country got better," Alfred said in a growing annoyed tone.
"I just thought..."
"Thought what? That I wouldn't mind you staying here until you felt like leaving?"
"America... I didn't think-"
"That's right! You didn't think!" Alfred fumed, "You just came into my house, demanded that you stayed here, and didn't plan on when you were leaving?! How the hell am I supposed to react if I wake up one day and you vanished just like that! Huh? Do you have any idea what you're doing to me?!"
Alfred stomped into the storage room and slammed the door shut before Ivan could said anything back. He was relieved that he finally got that out of his system. He knew that Ivan would have to leave soon, and he wanted to get it done and over with. That way his heart could go back to normal, and he wouldn't be so fluttered up all the time. Still, as he thought more about it, he realized that it'd be saddening to see him go. Especially if he just up and left him without saying anything one day.
He sighed and went right to work cleaning up to try to calm himself down. With his mind mostly on Ivan, he hardly had any memories of the past like he usually would, so going through things to throw out was a lot easier. As he was half way through and hoping that he might actually get done for once, he noticed a small, lone box in the back. He pulled it out and opened it, only to be immediately flooded with memories of the past he didn't want.
"Hey, England. Is this really for me?" The little Alfred asked as he stared curiously at the silver locket in Arthur's hand.
Arthur nodded. "Of course."
Alfred beamed with joy as Arthur clasped the locket onto his neck, then kissed his forehead.
"Take good care of it..."
Alfred felt his heart start to beat strangely once more. Why would a kiss on the forehead make him feel so fuzzy inside as a child? Unless... he smacked his forehead at his stupidity. Now he remembered it clearly. Arthur was his first crush until the revolution, and he got rid of everything that reminded him of Arthur after it ended. That would explain why he still felt that way just a tiny bit.
"Wait a minute," he mumbled to himself, "If I felt that way towards Arthur, that means..."
That's when it hit him like a ton of bricks. He dashed out of the room, disregarding the items that needed to be disposed of, and quickly opened the door.
"Russia!"
No response came, and Alfred wondered where he could be. He checked every part of the house from the living room to the bedroom, and failed to find him anywhere. Panic surged through him when he realized that the worst thing he imagined had happened.
Ivan was gone.
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