The Ghost, Not the Guardian [2/??]
anonymous
April 30 2009, 05:32:46 UTC
By the time he reached the living room the smell of his desk burning had managed to eliminate any chance of leniency or compassion for his imprisoned rival. He charged into the largest room in his home with the full intent of using the straight end of his pipe to grind America's blue eyes into soup in their sockets. America had probably expected this, because his back was not to the doorway, but to the roaring fire in the hearth instead... as he threw the last few slivers of Russia's brutally murdered desk into the blaze.
Blue eyes, the very ones that Russia intended to remove, looked up at him as if they hadn't been expecting him. A smile on a very different spectrum from Russia's found it's way to America's lips. Perfect white teeth that probably wouldn't be too perfect in a matter of minutes, glinted.
America's smile could be just as fake as it could be genuine and right now Russia knew that that smile was dripping with feigned amiability.
“Oh!” America practically chirped, more excited about the prospect of whatever violence lay ahead than the sight of Russia's return home. “I did what you told me to. Got wood for the fire, see.”
The younger nation motioned with his head to an immaculately arranged stack of proper firewood not too far from the fireplace. Russia, who'd already walked around the large couch that faced the fire, only glanced at it. It didn't matter that America had done his assigned task before he'd decided vandalism would be a much more entertaining activity. Russia returned his attention to his fellow super-power seated in front of him.
It wasn't relaxed posture. He was expecting Russia to take a swing at him. Because of this Russia stayed his own hand.
“You have been in my study?” A flimsy inquiry. America's smile widened, his teeth parting enough for the larger nation to catch a glimpse of tongue and suddenly Russia wanted nothing more than to see Hollywood wiped off the face of the earth like the unholy place that it was. He lowered his pipe, resting the flat end on the rug so that he could use the faucet as a cane. He leaned his weight towards America, finding a small victory when the blond stiffened almost visibly and leaned closer to the fire to lessen their proximity.
“Maybe for a couple of seconds.” His voice didn't waver as he lied; he was just doing so for the sake of it. A second passed and America made the mistake of blinking.
In a fraction of a second, Russia had shifted his weight back to his heels and he was swinging his pipe in a brutal downward ark towards the blond nation's skull.
- -
I can't imagine Alfred's personality being unchanged by the ordeal...
Sorry, this actually came a bit later than anon planned because some things came up. I'm not going to school tomorrow so I might have another part up then. I'm so nervous though! I have SATs on saturday! *commenses freaking out*
Blue eyes, the very ones that Russia intended to remove, looked up at him as if they hadn't been expecting him. A smile on a very different spectrum from Russia's found it's way to America's lips. Perfect white teeth that probably wouldn't be too perfect in a matter of minutes, glinted.
America's smile could be just as fake as it could be genuine and right now Russia knew that that smile was dripping with feigned amiability.
“Oh!” America practically chirped, more excited about the prospect of whatever violence lay ahead than the sight of Russia's return home. “I did what you told me to. Got wood for the fire, see.”
The younger nation motioned with his head to an immaculately arranged stack of proper firewood not too far from the fireplace. Russia, who'd already walked around the large couch that faced the fire, only glanced at it. It didn't matter that America had done his assigned task before he'd decided vandalism would be a much more entertaining activity. Russia returned his attention to his fellow super-power seated in front of him.
It wasn't relaxed posture. He was expecting Russia to take a swing at him. Because of this Russia stayed his own hand.
“You have been in my study?” A flimsy inquiry. America's smile widened, his teeth parting enough for the larger nation to catch a glimpse of tongue and suddenly Russia wanted nothing more than to see Hollywood wiped off the face of the earth like the unholy place that it was. He lowered his pipe, resting the flat end on the rug so that he could use the faucet as a cane. He leaned his weight towards America, finding a small victory when the blond stiffened almost visibly and leaned closer to the fire to lessen their proximity.
“Maybe for a couple of seconds.” His voice didn't waver as he lied; he was just doing so for the sake of it. A second passed and America made the mistake of blinking.
In a fraction of a second, Russia had shifted his weight back to his heels and he was swinging his pipe in a brutal downward ark towards the blond nation's skull.
- -
I can't imagine Alfred's personality being unchanged by the ordeal...
Sorry, this actually came a bit later than anon planned because some things came up. I'm not going to school tomorrow so I might have another part up then. I'm so nervous though! I have SATs on saturday! *commenses freaking out*
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I can't wait to read more :)
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This anon shall wait patiently for the next update *tries not to repeatedly mash the f5 key*
And Good luck with your SAT's author!anon.
Recaptcha: Circle in \^o^/ Even Captcha wants author!anon to succeed!!! GO~!
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HERO ABUSE = DO WANT
I-I'll also try not to break the F5....
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http://hetalia-kink.livejournal.com/9482.html? thread=11506186#t11506186
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