Re: Russia/Canada - No Mean Art 5/5
anonymous
April 9 2009, 01:34:35 UTC
“You already have a complex, it’s called crazy. And you have operatic tendencies that need to be curbed-” Feliks stood up hastily, tripping back on the grass, and only then did he realize his mistake. Mathieu scrambled off the grass too, picking up the jacket he’d tossed aside to stand well clear of Ivan’s reach.
“I. Hello Ivan.” He muttered at the ground. Maybe he should write his will, or just dictate it. Feliks and Liet could run, save themselves and pass it on. Leave the stash to Cuba because he’ll appreciate it, don’t give me a tombstone I don’t want someone digging me up.
“You are not saying very nice things about me.” It sounded like he was trying to fake being hurt, only he wasn’t trying that hard.
“I’m sorry. Th-that’s impolite, I know, I shouldn’t have said anything. Kept my mouth shut.” It’s the refrain England had told him years ago now, sit down shut up and you might just survive. Always listen to your mother, they say, and now he was paying for it.
A heavy silence settled, the distant sound of people laughing far away in his head now.
“I am sorry, friend.” Matt tentatively looked up.
“Er-thank you? But for what?”
“You were just saying - all of the these things, they are annoy you, yes?” Ivan’s face was sombre and unreadable in the shadows of the trees. It was easier to have him smiling, at least then he was either truly happy or planning something evil but you always knew.
“A little I suppose, well not really I just,” he pushed his glasses further up his nose, shaking, “why me?”
Slowly, the Russian moved forward, strolling leisurely through the grass and stopped only an inch or two away from Matt, tense with impending doom. Cool fingers brushed his chin slightly, and dropped away.
“I thought you were smarter, da? You are asking of question you know the answer to. I am sorry to trouble you.”
If he had been less pathetic, he might’ve gone after the man then, walking away slowly. Maybe said something cool or subtle, make everything right with just a few words. Best ideas always had fatal flaws, and instead he had to call out, once he regained his wits.
“Me too!” He’d stopped shaking when Ivan stopped walking away.
“I- . At least, I think. Me too.” If he was wrong, gods help him. “Sorry, but maybe, uh, flowers next time or something? Maybe just a drink after work?”
Ivan grinned back at him, smoothing out his suit needlessly. Matt tried to hide behind his frames and convince himself that he was not having a sentimental moment with Ivan of all people.
“It seems it is only fair - I will be having coffee then, with you?” He nodded.
“Er- yes. That’s - that’d be. Nice.” He smiled.
The afternoon of course brought Francis who brought wine and then Arthur, who brought beer and Alfred who could handle neither. Even if his day had been a disaster, having to tuck his brother in and change shirts for the wine spills on it, he was tired in the worst of ways but against all odds, he looked forward to the coffee.
A chance, maybe if Ivan keeps the mad-hatter tendencies on low, to relax. That didn’t seem to unpleasant at all.
______
I loved this rec. More people need to write some drabbles.
OP + you = MARRIED! MARRIED! MARRIED!
anonymous
April 9 2009, 02:53:58 UTC
Eeeeeheeeheee! I'm giggling like a crazy person cause I love this so so much. The cupboard gnome, the stash left to Cuba, Francis being Francis, Matty's insecurity, Ivan's batshit insanity/love, Alfred unable to hold his alcohol, ffffffffff I don't even know what my favorite bit is! I could go on forever!
Re: OP + you = MARRIED! MARRIED! MARRIED!
anonymous
April 9 2009, 03:31:05 UTC
it only takes a read through, I'm not exactly one's idea of literary master. I speak english my whole life and look, I can barely put sentances together lol. Glad you liked it love, maybe next time it could be a quick shag in the office~?
“I. Hello Ivan.” He muttered at the ground. Maybe he should write his will, or just dictate it. Feliks and Liet could run, save themselves and pass it on. Leave the stash to Cuba because he’ll appreciate it, don’t give me a tombstone I don’t want someone digging me up.
“You are not saying very nice things about me.” It sounded like he was trying to fake being hurt, only he wasn’t trying that hard.
“I’m sorry. Th-that’s impolite, I know, I shouldn’t have said anything. Kept my mouth shut.” It’s the refrain England had told him years ago now, sit down shut up and you might just survive. Always listen to your mother, they say, and now he was paying for it.
A heavy silence settled, the distant sound of people laughing far away in his head now.
“I am sorry, friend.” Matt tentatively looked up.
“Er-thank you? But for what?”
“You were just saying - all of the these things, they are annoy you, yes?” Ivan’s face was sombre and unreadable in the shadows of the trees. It was easier to have him smiling, at least then he was either truly happy or planning something evil but you always knew.
“A little I suppose, well not really I just,” he pushed his glasses further up his nose, shaking, “why me?”
Slowly, the Russian moved forward, strolling leisurely through the grass and stopped only an inch or two away from Matt, tense with impending doom. Cool fingers brushed his chin slightly, and dropped away.
“I thought you were smarter, da? You are asking of question you know the answer to. I am sorry to trouble you.”
If he had been less pathetic, he might’ve gone after the man then, walking away slowly. Maybe said something cool or subtle, make everything right with just a few words. Best ideas always had fatal flaws, and instead he had to call out, once he regained his wits.
“Me too!” He’d stopped shaking when Ivan stopped walking away.
“I- . At least, I think. Me too.” If he was wrong, gods help him. “Sorry, but maybe, uh, flowers next time or something? Maybe just a drink after work?”
Ivan grinned back at him, smoothing out his suit needlessly. Matt tried to hide behind his frames and convince himself that he was not having a sentimental moment with Ivan of all people.
“It seems it is only fair - I will be having coffee then, with you?” He nodded.
“Er- yes. That’s - that’d be. Nice.” He smiled.
The afternoon of course brought Francis who brought wine and then Arthur, who brought beer and Alfred who could handle neither. Even if his day had been a disaster, having to tuck his brother in and change shirts for the wine spills on it, he was tired in the worst of ways but against all odds, he looked forward to the coffee.
A chance, maybe if Ivan keeps the mad-hatter tendencies on low, to relax. That didn’t seem to unpleasant at all.
______
I loved this rec. More people need to write some drabbles.
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brb reading over again several times
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And pffffft at UK's whatever-attitude at Canada's problem and Russia stealing his glasses. XD Wonderful!
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Loved is anon, oh Russia you miserable stalker bastard <3
ReCaptcha: ernst deserts?
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Captcha: Adviser Godiva
O.O I-I want to be an adviser to Godiva! (mmm chocolate)
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