[Table Challenge] - Claim: Russia/Canada - Table/Prompt - Food/8.Restaurant
Title: Love in the Age of Sunflowers
Author: prussian_cactus
Claim: Russia/Canada
Character(s): Russia, Canada
Table/Prompt: Food/8.Restaurant
Word Count: 389
Rating: K+
The atmosphere is suffocating him. He smiles, but you know it’s strained, know he’s lying to your face. He pushes a bit of broccoli around his plate, posture uncomfortable in the expensive chair. His other hand pulls at a loose string on his worn coat. You told him he didn’t have to dress up, you just wanted to take him some place nice, just the two of you. It had been so long. The harsh winter had snuck into your bed, freezing an impassable wasteland across the sheets. You moved to the couch, hoping it would thaw. Winter had been a part of your life for as long as you remember, but when you met him, the first signs of spring appeared.
The beginning was tentative, a crocus testing the way, robins cautiously appearing. Then came summer, the golden time, the age of sunflowers and pancakes. You don’t know what went wrong, but something must have (must have been your fault, mother always said you were too childlike) and now he’ll barely talk to you, barely look at you.
You thought the restaurant might help, might show him you care, show him you love him despite General Winter. The ice could be melted, though you weren’t sure why it was there (surely you hadn't destroyed your sunflower?) but when you reach across the table for his hand, he draws back, looking away. You reach into your coat pocket, feeling the small blue box you bought last month. Its presence was a constant soother, almost a talisman. Not that it helps, he still won’t touch you the way he used to, smile the way he used to.
You pull the box out. His eyes grow wide and you can’t tell if it’s in fear or love (please be love, you desperately hope. You can’t take someone else leaving, not now). You open the box, the ring asking a silent question you don’t voice. He pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose and suddenly you know it wasn’t fear nor love in his eyes, but sadness. With a firm hand he shuts the lid of the little box (your little box of hopes and dreams), and with one last strained smile, he takes his coat and walks away. Leaving you alone with General Winter, your heart overtaken by ice.