[Hetalia OC] "In the Springs of Thermopolis"
Title: "In the Springs of Thermopolis"
Fandom: Axis Powers Hetalia
Characters: Colorado (OC), Wyoming (OC)
Prompt: 4. Join In Table 24 @ 5_prompts
Words: 1198
Rating: PG
Summary: Colorado and Wyoming have been having a hard time dealing with the many problems their lands are having and seek comfort in each other.
A/N: Probably a fail romance, it was stuck in my head though, so I wrote it. I hope it's not as terrible as I think it is.
Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia. I do own my OCs of Colorado and Wyoming.
Thermopolis, Wyoming ~ 1900
Wyoming had been surprised by her visit, and the sadness behind her eyes concerned him. He knew that Colorado’s home was having trouble. The drought had affected him too. Her miners and businessman were having disputes, some of the conflicts had been armed. She wanted peace, to get away from it all, and he was determined to give it to her.
He had been worried when he had woken up and not seen her. Her saddle was still propped where she left it, the blanket folded on top of it, her horse still tied up not far away. The gray colt tossed its head at him as he pulled on his boots wandered over to it and his own mustang. He asked the horse the location of its owner and it looked away. He followed the direction the animal had indicated. Horses always seemed to have an instinct about where their masters were, and this one was no different. It led him into Thermopolis, a small town that was gaining fame from its hot springs, which many people believed healed their ills. He found her in a small, shallow, isolated spring. It was somewhere townsfolk would not think to come this early in the day.
Colorado was clearly not expecting company, because she was hardly fit to be seen by others. She had tied up her long skirt so that it hung just below her knees, so it would not get wet in the warm water. Her blouse had been laid aside, her sleeveless shift was all she was wearing on her upper body. Wyoming blushed furiously, he should walk away, but he was simply unable to tear his eyes away from her. The early morning sun was caught up in her reddish brown curls that hung loosely, not yet tied up into their usual ribbon. Her green eyes were downcast, as if looking for answers in the limestone visible through the water. Steam was still rising in the cool morning air, obscuring her slightly, making her look like a watercolor or oil painting. There were no defined lines in that mist, just the obscure outline that just happened to be in the shape of a person.
There was nowhere to hide and she noticed him quickly, looking up, green eyes wide with surprise.
“Wyoming.”
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to intrude.”
“No, please,” She held out a welcoming hand in his direction, “Join me.” When he didn’t move she splashed towards him, stepping up onto the bank and grabbing him by the hands before he could protest, repeating her request. He acquiesced, reaching down to pull off his boots and roll the legs of his trousers. Colorado stood beside him waiting for him to finish. He offered her a hand and they walked back into the shallow spring. Neither of them were strangers to hot springs, they dotted their lands, although Wyoming had far more than her.
As they walked through the heated water Wyoming examined her. Colorado looked weary, although some of the lines on her face had been smoothed away in the peace of the morning. Wyoming focused on the feeling of her hand in his. Her fingers would have been unbecoming of a woman of the east, what with the calluses adorning them, but he loved them. They felt good against his own, they were tributes to the hard work of the west. All of the states had them, they destroyed their hands to build up their lands, they toiled along side their people seeking success. It was that very success that was torturing Colorado now. Her people could not agree who should receive the most benefits of labor, of who would come out on top.
Wrapped up in his thoughts, he was surprised to feel Colorado wrap her arms around him. She held him tightly, fingers clutching at the back of his shirt, shaking slightly from emotion. Wyoming wrapped his arms around her, trying to still her, wanting to comfort her anguish. He couldn’t think of anything to say, he had no actions that he could take to ease her suffering. Although united, the states were pretty much on their own, especially if America was too busy to take notice. Colorado had not yet decided if it was necessary to worry him. Wyoming lost count of the minutes they stood there, shrouded in mist, trying to forget the worries of the world. He rested his chin on the top of her head, breathing in the scent of her. It was comforting, the smell of the southern forests of the same mountain range, the scent created by shared rivers.
It comforted his own pain that he had been trying to suffer through alone. The differences between their ages used to be pronounced, with Colorado looking much older than him. Indian Wars and his own worker rebellions had caused him to grow quickly and now they looked the same age. He was now taller than her. She had remarked on it one of her visits right before he achieved statehood. He instinctively blushed at his memory of the party in honor of his statehood. He still could not believe he had been bold enough to tell her how he felt about her. He had later blamed the whole event on the alcohol and avoided bringing it up, but he could hardly deny his feelings. The thoughts of what could have happened had Montana not interrupted would pervade his mind often causing him a great deal of distraction.
The thought would not leave his head, the moment it had settled. It did not help that Colorado had pressed her face into his shoulder, he could feel her breath on the small opening of his shirt where he had carelessly not buttoned the top. His hand was warm on her back where it was exposed by her shift. He traced his fingers up between her shoulder blades, to rest at the base of her neck where he could wrap his fingers into the wind blown curls. He shifted his face so that his cheek was pressed against hers. He once again searched for words. Colorado brushed her fingers along his neck, sending a shiver through his body, and cupping his face in her hands. She brought his face up so she could look into his eyes. As she stared at him, Wyoming felt his hand that was not wound up in her hair sliding to take a more possessive hold on her.
“Do you ever wonder what would have happened that night you became a state if Montana hadn’t interrupted us?” He swallowed hard, feeling the familiar embarrassment rising in his face. He nodded. She smiled pulling his face close. He closed the last bit of distance to press his mouth against hers. Wyoming had intended it to be chaste but as soon as his lips touched hers it became a clash, need flared between them. The encounter left them breathless. They lost themselves in each other, for a time they were not the states of Colorado and Wyoming, they were individuals, individuals that understood each other, and cared deeply for one another.
Notes:
***Circa 1900 was a pretty rough time in the western states. There was a drought and between 1890 and 1920 there were quite a few miniature wars fought between members of workers' unions and the state militias or national guard. It was a pretty rough time and the federal government usually didn't get involved until it was getting out of hand. For example my story Of Mines and Murder deals with the Ludlow Massacre near Leadville, Colorado. (I need to write a happier story... maybe I'll do one about Yellowstone celebrating its bicentennial or centennial or something)
***Thermopolis, Wyoming is a tourist town in Wyoming that got its start because of the many hot springs that surround it. Back in the day people thought that hot springs were healing and would travel to visit them. America's first federally protected land was a Hot Springs, Arkansas for this very reason. Colorado also has many hot springs resorts that were and are still very popular today.
Fandom: Axis Powers Hetalia
Characters: Colorado (OC), Wyoming (OC)
Prompt: 4. Join In Table 24 @ 5_prompts
Words: 1198
Rating: PG
Summary: Colorado and Wyoming have been having a hard time dealing with the many problems their lands are having and seek comfort in each other.
A/N: Probably a fail romance, it was stuck in my head though, so I wrote it. I hope it's not as terrible as I think it is.
Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia. I do own my OCs of Colorado and Wyoming.
Thermopolis, Wyoming ~ 1900
Wyoming had been surprised by her visit, and the sadness behind her eyes concerned him. He knew that Colorado’s home was having trouble. The drought had affected him too. Her miners and businessman were having disputes, some of the conflicts had been armed. She wanted peace, to get away from it all, and he was determined to give it to her.
He had been worried when he had woken up and not seen her. Her saddle was still propped where she left it, the blanket folded on top of it, her horse still tied up not far away. The gray colt tossed its head at him as he pulled on his boots wandered over to it and his own mustang. He asked the horse the location of its owner and it looked away. He followed the direction the animal had indicated. Horses always seemed to have an instinct about where their masters were, and this one was no different. It led him into Thermopolis, a small town that was gaining fame from its hot springs, which many people believed healed their ills. He found her in a small, shallow, isolated spring. It was somewhere townsfolk would not think to come this early in the day.
Colorado was clearly not expecting company, because she was hardly fit to be seen by others. She had tied up her long skirt so that it hung just below her knees, so it would not get wet in the warm water. Her blouse had been laid aside, her sleeveless shift was all she was wearing on her upper body. Wyoming blushed furiously, he should walk away, but he was simply unable to tear his eyes away from her. The early morning sun was caught up in her reddish brown curls that hung loosely, not yet tied up into their usual ribbon. Her green eyes were downcast, as if looking for answers in the limestone visible through the water. Steam was still rising in the cool morning air, obscuring her slightly, making her look like a watercolor or oil painting. There were no defined lines in that mist, just the obscure outline that just happened to be in the shape of a person.
There was nowhere to hide and she noticed him quickly, looking up, green eyes wide with surprise.
“Wyoming.”
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to intrude.”
“No, please,” She held out a welcoming hand in his direction, “Join me.” When he didn’t move she splashed towards him, stepping up onto the bank and grabbing him by the hands before he could protest, repeating her request. He acquiesced, reaching down to pull off his boots and roll the legs of his trousers. Colorado stood beside him waiting for him to finish. He offered her a hand and they walked back into the shallow spring. Neither of them were strangers to hot springs, they dotted their lands, although Wyoming had far more than her.
As they walked through the heated water Wyoming examined her. Colorado looked weary, although some of the lines on her face had been smoothed away in the peace of the morning. Wyoming focused on the feeling of her hand in his. Her fingers would have been unbecoming of a woman of the east, what with the calluses adorning them, but he loved them. They felt good against his own, they were tributes to the hard work of the west. All of the states had them, they destroyed their hands to build up their lands, they toiled along side their people seeking success. It was that very success that was torturing Colorado now. Her people could not agree who should receive the most benefits of labor, of who would come out on top.
Wrapped up in his thoughts, he was surprised to feel Colorado wrap her arms around him. She held him tightly, fingers clutching at the back of his shirt, shaking slightly from emotion. Wyoming wrapped his arms around her, trying to still her, wanting to comfort her anguish. He couldn’t think of anything to say, he had no actions that he could take to ease her suffering. Although united, the states were pretty much on their own, especially if America was too busy to take notice. Colorado had not yet decided if it was necessary to worry him. Wyoming lost count of the minutes they stood there, shrouded in mist, trying to forget the worries of the world. He rested his chin on the top of her head, breathing in the scent of her. It was comforting, the smell of the southern forests of the same mountain range, the scent created by shared rivers.
It comforted his own pain that he had been trying to suffer through alone. The differences between their ages used to be pronounced, with Colorado looking much older than him. Indian Wars and his own worker rebellions had caused him to grow quickly and now they looked the same age. He was now taller than her. She had remarked on it one of her visits right before he achieved statehood. He instinctively blushed at his memory of the party in honor of his statehood. He still could not believe he had been bold enough to tell her how he felt about her. He had later blamed the whole event on the alcohol and avoided bringing it up, but he could hardly deny his feelings. The thoughts of what could have happened had Montana not interrupted would pervade his mind often causing him a great deal of distraction.
The thought would not leave his head, the moment it had settled. It did not help that Colorado had pressed her face into his shoulder, he could feel her breath on the small opening of his shirt where he had carelessly not buttoned the top. His hand was warm on her back where it was exposed by her shift. He traced his fingers up between her shoulder blades, to rest at the base of her neck where he could wrap his fingers into the wind blown curls. He shifted his face so that his cheek was pressed against hers. He once again searched for words. Colorado brushed her fingers along his neck, sending a shiver through his body, and cupping his face in her hands. She brought his face up so she could look into his eyes. As she stared at him, Wyoming felt his hand that was not wound up in her hair sliding to take a more possessive hold on her.
“Do you ever wonder what would have happened that night you became a state if Montana hadn’t interrupted us?” He swallowed hard, feeling the familiar embarrassment rising in his face. He nodded. She smiled pulling his face close. He closed the last bit of distance to press his mouth against hers. Wyoming had intended it to be chaste but as soon as his lips touched hers it became a clash, need flared between them. The encounter left them breathless. They lost themselves in each other, for a time they were not the states of Colorado and Wyoming, they were individuals, individuals that understood each other, and cared deeply for one another.
Notes:
***Circa 1900 was a pretty rough time in the western states. There was a drought and between 1890 and 1920 there were quite a few miniature wars fought between members of workers' unions and the state militias or national guard. It was a pretty rough time and the federal government usually didn't get involved until it was getting out of hand. For example my story Of Mines and Murder deals with the Ludlow Massacre near Leadville, Colorado. (I need to write a happier story... maybe I'll do one about Yellowstone celebrating its bicentennial or centennial or something)
***Thermopolis, Wyoming is a tourist town in Wyoming that got its start because of the many hot springs that surround it. Back in the day people thought that hot springs were healing and would travel to visit them. America's first federally protected land was a Hot Springs, Arkansas for this very reason. Colorado also has many hot springs resorts that were and are still very popular today.