Ivan - Part 2
anonymous
June 29 2009, 01:18:48 UTC
Dear Russia
No, too formal.
Beloved Brother
No...it sounded too creepy-stalker. That was the way she knew she usually came across to him, and she wanted this to be different, wanted him to think about this letter seriously.
Ivan
Yes. Short, and straight to the point.
Ivan, I...I'm not even sure how to begin this letter, or where I'm going with it. I haven't planned it out; and I'm not going to erase anything I write, because if I do, I'll erase and erase and never be happy with anything I write. So I'm just going to leave it all as I write it the first time, and send it, with no editations or corrections. It will be straight from my heart.
Ivan...brother...I love you.
I know what you're thinking right now. You're probably smiling in amusement, that cheerful little smile of yours, the one that scares everyone else but which is so endearing to me, the one I think about whenever I think of you, because it's such a part of you, as much as that scarf our sister made for you, and when she made it, you were so happy, and you smiled at her so warmly, so tenderly, so lovingly, and I wanted so badly for you to smile at me like that, instead of just cringing and running and hiding whenever I come to see you.
Ivan, I love you. I love you so much sometimes I don't even know what to do about it, about all the love that sometimes makes my heart ache so that I think I might die if I don't find an outlet for some of it. That's why I bother you all the time, brother, why I chase you and hug you and tell you we should get married, not because I ever think you're going to agree, but because even that little bit of interaction with you, that little bit of me showing my love, however unreciprocated, to you, makes the ache in my heart a little more bearable, makes it so I can go on for another day.
Ivan. I know you don't love me back. However much it may seem like I ignore you when you tell me this, I don't. I never ignore anything you say, brother. I commit everything you tell me to memory; I replay our conversations over and over in my mind, searching, hoping, for any hint, however small, that you might at least harbor the smallest, most insignificant amount of love for me, and I have come to the conclusion that you do not. I know this quite well, better than I wish I did, for the thought that you do not love me shatters my heart into a million pieces whenever I think about it, but Ivan...this does not dissuade me from loving you. I know that when you get this, you'll probably laugh as you read it, or maybe even throw it away without even looking at it, but I hope you don't, because Ivan...I don't know what I'll do if...if...
Please Ivan, at the very least, if you cannot love me, read this and think about it. Think about your sister, the annoying, obsessive, stalker who has always been there for you from the very beginning, who will always be there for you even if the whole world turns it's back on you, who will never ever leave you alone no matter who else leaves you. Think about the one person whose love for you is such a basic part of her that...that...
Please. Just think about it, Ivan...my beloved, my brother, my love, my everything...
not-op is crying
anonymous
June 29 2009, 04:16:08 UTC
;_;...oh god. You just made me sympathize for Belarus. HARD.
I...I love you. The emotion here is so serious, and so real, and really, that is the perfect motivation behind Natalia's actions, and I just...oh man. I need to hug something now.
Re: not-op is crying
anonymous
June 30 2009, 02:05:41 UTC
author!anon is very glad you thought it was real, because she was extremely worried this was going to come across as fake. And that would suck, because author!anon loves this request, and wanted to do it justice.
Thank you for liking it! It is author!anon's first fill, so she was quite nervous about it.
Ivan - Part 3
anonymous
June 30 2009, 02:09:04 UTC
Belarus looked down at what she has written and frowned. She didn't like it; in fact, she hated it. She wanted to just tear it up and throw it away. But...she couldn't...she didn't think she could work up the courage and strength to write such a letter again, if she got rid of this one. No, she would keep it and mail it and see what happened.
She took her time picking out an envelope. She knew the envelope should be the least of her worries, but she thought that maybe if it had a nice envelope, Ivan would be less likely to just throw it away as soon as he saw it, like she knew he did the last time she sent him something (because he'd told her that's what he'd done). But none of the pretty, fancy, nice envelopes were quite what she was looking for. She didn't even know what she was looking for. But certainly not these, these abominations of pink and red and hearts. This was what you were supposed to use to mail a letter to your beloved? Hah. Ivan would laugh, and so would Natalia, if she recived something like this. She certainly wouldn't take it seriously, if indeed she opened it at all.
So, in the end, against her better judgement, she chose a plain white envelope, the kind you can buy in hundreds, or even thousands, if you have a need to. But Natalia didn't. She only needed one, and she only bought one.
When she got back home, she sat back at her desk and stared down at the envelope. She was tired. She didn't think she had the energy to go about thinking up some great way to title the front. So she just went with how she chose to start the letter. Ivan. She wrote it on the front, with a nice fountain pen, not the plain old dollar-store pen she'd used for the actual letter simply because she could write neater in it. She took her time writing his name though, and felt the familiar rush of feeling as she did whenever she wrote it, saw it, thought about it. Thought about him.
She sighed and folded the letter carefully, after making sure all the scraggly bits of the sides of the notebook pages were completely gone, and slid it into the envelope. She carefully licked the flap, ignoring the taste, and sealed it. Though she felt ridiculous, she couldn't resist the urge to kiss the front of the letter.
'Ivan,' she thought, 'please...don't reject me. I know you don't love me. But please don't reject me. I simply don't know what I'll do.'
She got up and went to her mailbox. She stuck the letter inside, and when she checked the next day, it was gone. The mailman had taken it.
Ivan - Part 4
anonymous
June 30 2009, 02:13:28 UTC
((fail!anon doesn't have a built in spell checker on her computer, and forgot to check it online for part 3, so she apologizes for mistakes. D: ))
Russia sat at his desk, a pile of papers in front of him. He had his customary bottle of vodka open on the table next to the papers, and though he was drinking it, he was not drunk in the slightest. He wished he was. It would make paperwork a lot more fun. But his boss had told him that he could not, under any circumstances, sign anything or go over anything while drunk because he was liable to authorize something insane, like that time he'd accidentally authorized National Vodka Day, in which no one goes to work and you celebrate by staying at home and sharing a nice large bottle of vodka with the entire family.
Well, come to think of it, he actually hadn't authorized that one by accident...in fact, he'd been the one to draw up the papers for it, just because it suddenly struck him that it didn't exist yet, and it seemed absurd that it didn't.
But he never drank enough vodka to get drunk while doing paperwork anymore after that fiasco.
So when he came across a plain white envelope with his name, his human name, written on the front in black fountain pen, he was plenty sober enough to know who it was from. Belarus. God, he hoped it wasn't another envelope full of marriage registration forms, all filled out except for the husband's signature. If it was, he was throwing it in the trash. Hell, he had half a mind to throw it in the trash anyway. Even if it wasn't marriage registration forms, it was most likely something else stupid, like a sheet of paper with LET'S GET MARRIEDMARRIEDMARRIED on it like last time.
But he also knew that, despite his sister's usual mailings, it could actually be something important. She was, after all, a country, like him, and she may be sending him legitimate papers from Belarus, the country, and not Natalia, his creepy, stalker, obsessive sister. And his boss would be quite displeased if he threw away something important.
So, even though he really didn't want to, he grabbed the envelope and opened it, pulling out the sheets of paper inside. He was surprised to find notebook paper, instead of something typed, because that meant it was personal, from her, not her country. He inwardly groaned and unfolded the papers and began reading.
Ivan - Part 5
anonymous
June 30 2009, 02:19:04 UTC
Belarus checked her mail compulsively the next few days. This was unusual for her, who would often leave her mail piling up for weeks just because she didn't care. She would watch out the window for the mailman, and then run up to him, demanding to know if he had anything for her. On the days he did, she felt her heart soar in excitement, only to fall to the ground in despair when it just ended up being junk mail, or something from one of the other countries. She would throw this stuff to the ground angrily, yelling at him that didn't he have anything else for her? Anything at all? And the mailman would simply shake his head and wish her better luck tomorrow.
She had had the same mailman for years now; in fact, she'd had him ever since he began his job a young, twenty-something man. He was almost of age to retire now. Though normal humans weren't supposed to know that their countries existed as people, he'd figured it out long ago, when he began noticing the young lady on his route that always seemed to be getting important classified information from other countries, was sending similar classified information, and, what was even more suspicious, never seemed to age.
He'd grown to know a lot about Natalia, about Belarus, while working for so many years as her mailman. He knew she was deeply in love with someone named Ivan Braginski, who was apparently the personified form of Russia. He knew Ivan Braginski did not return her feelings, and actually seemed to dislike her a great deal. He'd seen the front of the letter she'd sent him a few days ago, and he, being not only very patriotic, but also having grown rather fond of the girl who was his country, though she had no idea he knew what she was, knew that it was probably some sort of confession letter, probably a serious one this time, unlike the other ones he'd seen her send, with little hearts that said I + B 4EVA in them on the envelope. The envelope had been plain, and had only said Ivan on it, along with what he supposed was Russia's address. The mailman, who, though in all actuality was far younger then Natalia, still felt older and wiser, and who had already gone through loving someone, but having them reject you over and over (his wife had refused his marriage proposals for years before she finally gave in and admitted she loved him too), sincerely hoped each day that today would be the day she would get her return letter. He would check his bag of mail specially, and he told himself that when the letter finally came for her, he would bring it straight to her house, instead of going through his usual route. It was the least he could do for his country.
So the day it finally came, the mailman did just that. He got in his little mail truck, skipped the rest of the houses, though he came back to them later, and drove straight to Natalia's house. As usual, she was waiting for him, and she raced out of her house with her usual demand of if he had anything for her. He was happy to be able to dig in his bag and pull out an envelope, similar to the one she'd sent, except that it said Natalia on the front, and had Russia's address as the return address instead of Natalia's. He saw his country's face light up in a smile he so rarely saw on the serious girl and she grabbed it, eyes shining, and in that moment, she looked like any other teenage girl who was madly in love with someone and had just received a letter from them, and not like a centuries-old country.
"Good luck," he told her, smiling softly. She looked up from the letter, which she was staring at, startled. She realized then that her obsessive mail-checking must have been noticed by her mailman, who also must have figured out she was waiting for something like this.
"Thank you..." she said softly, then turned and ran back into her house.
((anon apologizes for putting so much stuff in between the letters, and for probably failing the Belarusian postal system. American!anon wrote it American style. And failed hard on the mailman working the same job for, like, his entire life. And having the same mail route.))
Ivan - Part 6, Final
anonymous
June 30 2009, 02:25:35 UTC
Natalia waited to open the precious envelope until she was in her office, seated at her desk. She didn't want to open it on her way inside, or up the stairs, because she couldn't read carefully while running, and she didn't want to catch glimpses of it, but be unable to read it correctly.
When she sat down, she opened the envelope carefully, using a letter opener, sliding it under the flap and prying it up gently. In her excitement, she just wanted to tear it open, but somehow, that didn't seem quite right.
She finally got it open and pulled out the pages of notebook paper, like what she'd used, in her brother's handwriting that she would know anywhere. She felt her heart give a lurch at that. He'd written his reply, he hadn't typed it, and that meant a lot to her. Her brother hated writing things; he was slow at it, and he had to concentrate hard to write legibly. And judging from the carefully-made, easy to read characters, he'd spent a good deal of time on this, and that meant more to her than he'd ever know.
Natalia
When I received your letter in the mail...I thought for sure it was going to be something annoying, like more marriage registration forms or something. It briefly crossed my mind that it may be a confession letter, but I never expected one...quite like that, and I apologize for that. I have never taken you quite seriously, and that was a lapse in judgement on my part.
Sister...I know you love me. I know now just how serious and real that love is, and I also apologize for ignoring it and shunning you all these years. However annoyingly persistent you were in your advances, I should have known better than to think you were joking, or doing it just to bother me, though it in all honesty never crossed my mind that you were anything other than an obsessive, maybe slightly crazy stalker.
Natalia, I do love you too. I don't love you how you love me. I don't want to get married, nor pursue any sort of relationship further than what we have now, but...you are my sister, Natalia. And I love you. I have always loved you, and I know now that maybe I didn't make that obvious enough.
Natalia, I'm not going to lie. You were right. As I began your letter, I was smiling in amusement. But as I continued it, I realized just how hard this letter must have been to write for you, and the smile slipped from my face. I had to read it twice to make sure I had caught all of it; you know how I skim things the first time, usually. But I made sure to read your letter completely.
I'm not sure where I'm going with this letter, either, Natalia, but...I guess I just don't want to see my sister so sad because the guy she likes doesn't like her back. If it were any other guy, I would kill them for you, you know. If it were anyone else to hurt you like this, I would break every bone in their body for hurting my little sister. But since it's me, and since I don't really want to break every bone in my body (I already did that once, you know, that time I jumped from the plane into the snow, thinking it soft enough to land in without a parachute, but of course you know, you who so tenderly nursed me back to health), all I can do is say I am sorry. I don't love you like you love me, and I never will. But I still love you, Natalia, and don't you ever think I don't.
~Ivan
__________________________________________________ Belarus felt tears slipping unheeded down her cheeks as she read and reread her brother's letter. She caught the parts about him not loving her how she loved him, and she would be sure to remember that, but...he loved her. Whatever type of love it might be, he loved her. He didn't hate her, as she'd thought. She was a nuisance...but she was his little sister, and he loved her. He cared about how she felt.
She hugged his letter to her chest, tears streaming. But they weren't tears of sadness like they usually were when they happened because of Ivan. They were tears of joy, because some love was a thousand, no, a million times better than none at all. And some love was so much more than she'd been expecting from him.
Feels dumb now, because she went and took another look at the original request, and she totally would have loved to have put that bonus in there. It would have fit just fine. But she forgot. D:
OMG anon I'm totally tearing up, over here. I didn't think anyone would fill this but you did and it's so *heartfelt* and raw and lovely. I adore the little details, like Ivan not handwriting things often, but doing it for her, Belarus getting sidetracked by Russia's smile.
I'm so glad Ivan takes her seriously too at the end, and sib!love ftw. So awesome. Thank you so much.
No, too formal.
Beloved Brother
No...it sounded too creepy-stalker. That was the way she knew she usually came across to him, and she wanted this to be different, wanted him to think about this letter seriously.
Ivan
Yes. Short, and straight to the point.
Ivan, I...I'm not even sure how to begin this letter, or where I'm going with it. I haven't planned it out; and I'm not going to erase anything I write, because if I do, I'll erase and erase and never be happy with anything I write. So I'm just going to leave it all as I write it the first time, and send it, with no editations or corrections. It will be straight from my heart.
Ivan...brother...I love you.
I know what you're thinking right now. You're probably smiling in amusement, that cheerful little smile of yours, the one that scares everyone else but which is so endearing to me, the one I think about whenever I think of you, because it's such a part of you, as much as that scarf our sister made for you, and when she made it, you were so happy, and you smiled at her so warmly, so tenderly, so lovingly, and I wanted so badly for you to smile at me like that, instead of just cringing and running and hiding whenever I come to see you.
Ivan, I love you. I love you so much sometimes I don't even know what to do about it, about all the love that sometimes makes my heart ache so that I think I might die if I don't find an outlet for some of it. That's why I bother you all the time, brother, why I chase you and hug you and tell you we should get married, not because I ever think you're going to agree, but because even that little bit of interaction with you, that little bit of me showing my love, however unreciprocated, to you, makes the ache in my heart a little more bearable, makes it so I can go on for another day.
Ivan. I know you don't love me back. However much it may seem like I ignore you when you tell me this, I don't. I never ignore anything you say, brother. I commit everything you tell me to memory; I replay our conversations over and over in my mind, searching, hoping, for any hint, however small, that you might at least harbor the smallest, most insignificant amount of love for me, and I have come to the conclusion that you do not. I know this quite well, better than I wish I did, for the thought that you do not love me shatters my heart into a million pieces whenever I think about it, but Ivan...this does not dissuade me from loving you. I know that when you get this, you'll probably laugh as you read it, or maybe even throw it away without even looking at it, but I hope you don't, because Ivan...I don't know what I'll do if...if...
Please Ivan, at the very least, if you cannot love me, read this and think about it. Think about your sister, the annoying, obsessive, stalker who has always been there for you from the very beginning, who will always be there for you even if the whole world turns it's back on you, who will never ever leave you alone no matter who else leaves you. Think about the one person whose love for you is such a basic part of her that...that...
Please. Just think about it, Ivan...my beloved, my brother, my love, my everything...
~Natalia
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I...I love you. The emotion here is so serious, and so real, and really, that is the perfect motivation behind Natalia's actions, and I just...oh man. I need to hug something now.
Thank you.
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Thank you for liking it! It is author!anon's first fill, so she was quite nervous about it.
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She took her time picking out an envelope. She knew the envelope should be the least of her worries, but she thought that maybe if it had a nice envelope, Ivan would be less likely to just throw it away as soon as he saw it, like she knew he did the last time she sent him something (because he'd told her that's what he'd done). But none of the pretty, fancy, nice envelopes were quite what she was looking for. She didn't even know what she was looking for. But certainly not these, these abominations of pink and red and hearts. This was what you were supposed to use to mail a letter to your beloved? Hah. Ivan would laugh, and so would Natalia, if she recived something like this. She certainly wouldn't take it seriously, if indeed she opened it at all.
So, in the end, against her better judgement, she chose a plain white envelope, the kind you can buy in hundreds, or even thousands, if you have a need to. But Natalia didn't. She only needed one, and she only bought one.
When she got back home, she sat back at her desk and stared down at the envelope. She was tired. She didn't think she had the energy to go about thinking up some great way to title the front. So she just went with how she chose to start the letter. Ivan. She wrote it on the front, with a nice fountain pen, not the plain old dollar-store pen she'd used for the actual letter simply because she could write neater in it. She took her time writing his name though, and felt the familiar rush of feeling as she did whenever she wrote it, saw it, thought about it. Thought about him.
She sighed and folded the letter carefully, after making sure all the scraggly bits of the sides of the notebook pages were completely gone, and slid it into the envelope. She carefully licked the flap, ignoring the taste, and sealed it. Though she felt ridiculous, she couldn't resist the urge to kiss the front of the letter.
'Ivan,' she thought, 'please...don't reject me. I know you don't love me. But please don't reject me. I simply don't know what I'll do.'
She got up and went to her mailbox. She stuck the letter inside, and when she checked the next day, it was gone. The mailman had taken it.
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Russia sat at his desk, a pile of papers in front of him. He had his customary bottle of vodka open on the table next to the papers, and though he was drinking it, he was not drunk in the slightest. He wished he was. It would make paperwork a lot more fun. But his boss had told him that he could not, under any circumstances, sign anything or go over anything while drunk because he was liable to authorize something insane, like that time he'd accidentally authorized National Vodka Day, in which no one goes to work and you celebrate by staying at home and sharing a nice large bottle of vodka with the entire family.
Well, come to think of it, he actually hadn't authorized that one by accident...in fact, he'd been the one to draw up the papers for it, just because it suddenly struck him that it didn't exist yet, and it seemed absurd that it didn't.
But he never drank enough vodka to get drunk while doing paperwork anymore after that fiasco.
So when he came across a plain white envelope with his name, his human name, written on the front in black fountain pen, he was plenty sober enough to know who it was from. Belarus. God, he hoped it wasn't another envelope full of marriage registration forms, all filled out except for the husband's signature. If it was, he was throwing it in the trash. Hell, he had half a mind to throw it in the trash anyway. Even if it wasn't marriage registration forms, it was most likely something else stupid, like a sheet of paper with LET'S GET MARRIEDMARRIEDMARRIED on it like last time.
But he also knew that, despite his sister's usual mailings, it could actually be something important. She was, after all, a country, like him, and she may be sending him legitimate papers from Belarus, the country, and not Natalia, his creepy, stalker, obsessive sister. And his boss would be quite displeased if he threw away something important.
So, even though he really didn't want to, he grabbed the envelope and opened it, pulling out the sheets of paper inside. He was surprised to find notebook paper, instead of something typed, because that meant it was personal, from her, not her country. He inwardly groaned and unfolded the papers and began reading.
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She had had the same mailman for years now; in fact, she'd had him ever since he began his job a young, twenty-something man. He was almost of age to retire now. Though normal humans weren't supposed to know that their countries existed as people, he'd figured it out long ago, when he began noticing the young lady on his route that always seemed to be getting important classified information from other countries, was sending similar classified information, and, what was even more suspicious, never seemed to age.
He'd grown to know a lot about Natalia, about Belarus, while working for so many years as her mailman. He knew she was deeply in love with someone named Ivan Braginski, who was apparently the personified form of Russia. He knew Ivan Braginski did not return her feelings, and actually seemed to dislike her a great deal. He'd seen the front of the letter she'd sent him a few days ago, and he, being not only very patriotic, but also having grown rather fond of the girl who was his country, though she had no idea he knew what she was, knew that it was probably some sort of confession letter, probably a serious one this time, unlike the other ones he'd seen her send, with little hearts that said I + B 4EVA in them on the envelope. The envelope had been plain, and had only said Ivan on it, along with what he supposed was Russia's address. The mailman, who, though in all actuality was far younger then Natalia, still felt older and wiser, and who had already gone through loving someone, but having them reject you over and over (his wife had refused his marriage proposals for years before she finally gave in and admitted she loved him too), sincerely hoped each day that today would be the day she would get her return letter. He would check his bag of mail specially, and he told himself that when the letter finally came for her, he would bring it straight to her house, instead of going through his usual route. It was the least he could do for his country.
So the day it finally came, the mailman did just that. He got in his little mail truck, skipped the rest of the houses, though he came back to them later, and drove straight to Natalia's house. As usual, she was waiting for him, and she raced out of her house with her usual demand of if he had anything for her. He was happy to be able to dig in his bag and pull out an envelope, similar to the one she'd sent, except that it said Natalia on the front, and had Russia's address as the return address instead of Natalia's. He saw his country's face light up in a smile he so rarely saw on the serious girl and she grabbed it, eyes shining, and in that moment, she looked like any other teenage girl who was madly in love with someone and had just received a letter from them, and not like a centuries-old country.
"Good luck," he told her, smiling softly. She looked up from the letter, which she was staring at, startled. She realized then that her obsessive mail-checking must have been noticed by her mailman, who also must have figured out she was waiting for something like this.
"Thank you..." she said softly, then turned and ran back into her house.
((anon apologizes for putting so much stuff in between the letters, and for probably failing the Belarusian postal system. American!anon wrote it American style. And failed hard on the mailman working the same job for, like, his entire life. And having the same mail route.))
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When she sat down, she opened the envelope carefully, using a letter opener, sliding it under the flap and prying it up gently. In her excitement, she just wanted to tear it open, but somehow, that didn't seem quite right.
She finally got it open and pulled out the pages of notebook paper, like what she'd used, in her brother's handwriting that she would know anywhere. She felt her heart give a lurch at that. He'd written his reply, he hadn't typed it, and that meant a lot to her. Her brother hated writing things; he was slow at it, and he had to concentrate hard to write legibly. And judging from the carefully-made, easy to read characters, he'd spent a good deal of time on this, and that meant more to her than he'd ever know.
Natalia
When I received your letter in the mail...I thought for sure it was going to be something annoying, like more marriage registration forms or something. It briefly crossed my mind that it may be a confession letter, but I never expected one...quite like that, and I apologize for that. I have never taken you quite seriously, and that was a lapse in judgement on my part.
Sister...I know you love me. I know now just how serious and real that love is, and I also apologize for ignoring it and shunning you all these years. However annoyingly persistent you were in your advances, I should have known better than to think you were joking, or doing it just to bother me, though it in all honesty never crossed my mind that you were anything other than an obsessive, maybe slightly crazy stalker.
Natalia, I do love you too. I don't love you how you love me. I don't want to get married, nor pursue any sort of relationship further than what we have now, but...you are my sister, Natalia. And I love you. I have always loved you, and I know now that maybe I didn't make that obvious enough.
Natalia, I'm not going to lie. You were right. As I began your letter, I was smiling in amusement. But as I continued it, I realized just how hard this letter must have been to write for you, and the smile slipped from my face. I had to read it twice to make sure I had caught all of it; you know how I skim things the first time, usually. But I made sure to read your letter completely.
I'm not sure where I'm going with this letter, either, Natalia, but...I guess I just don't want to see my sister so sad because the guy she likes doesn't like her back. If it were any other guy, I would kill them for you, you know. If it were anyone else to hurt you like this, I would break every bone in their body for hurting my little sister. But since it's me, and since I don't really want to break every bone in my body (I already did that once, you know, that time I jumped from the plane into the snow, thinking it soft enough to land in without a parachute, but of course you know, you who so tenderly nursed me back to health), all I can do is say I am sorry. I don't love you like you love me, and I never will. But I still love you, Natalia, and don't you ever think I don't.
~Ivan
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Belarus felt tears slipping unheeded down her cheeks as she read and reread her brother's letter. She caught the parts about him not loving her how she loved him, and she would be sure to remember that, but...he loved her. Whatever type of love it might be, he loved her. He didn't hate her, as she'd thought. She was a nuisance...but she was his little sister, and he loved her. He cared about how she felt.
She hugged his letter to her chest, tears streaming. But they weren't tears of sadness like they usually were when they happened because of Ivan. They were tears of joy, because some love was a thousand, no, a million times better than none at all. And some love was so much more than she'd been expecting from him.
'Ivan,' she thought, 'Thank you.'
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BTW...National Vodka Day... is that 4 real? xD
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I'm so glad Ivan takes her seriously too at the end, and sib!love ftw. So awesome. Thank you so much.
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