Conversational Hearts
Title: Conversational Hearts
Gen: You tell Me
Word count:546
Prompt; Conversational Hearts
My thanks to my betanursesparky and akane42me for a fun prompt.
The candy fell to the floor and sat there for nearly two seconds before Illya scooped it up. He wholeheartedly agreed with the ten-second rule. The candy was heart shaped. He flipped it over and saw the white words, “Cutie pie” on it. Illya made a face while studying it.
“Napoleon?” His partner, fingers tangled in his hair from concentrating glanced over at him with a look bordering panic.
“Yes?”
“What’s cutie pie?”
The words took a moment to sink in. “A what?”
“A cutie pie.”
“It’s a form of endearment, like sweetheart or, you know, a love muffin.”
“Love muffin?” Illya’s expression went from confusion to outright astonishment.
“Don’t tell me you don’t have terms of endearment in Russia.”
“Well, yes, but I think the most outrageous one I know of is sunshine.”
“That’s the Russians for you. Pragmatic to the last.”
Illya smirked. “We get the job done and without all your pomp and circumstance.”
Napoleon’s voice rose just a little. “We happen to like our pomp and circumstance.”
“Obviously, when you have to make little bits of candy confer endearments for you. Russians would come right out and say it.”
“Say what?
“I love you.” Then Illya realized what he said and sighed. “You know what I mean.”
“Sadly, yes, I do.” Napoleon chuckled as Illya’s cheeks flushed slightly. “Now, go away, I need to get this report figured out or my name will be Mud.”
It took him a few days to finally get enough information to make an informed purchase. Illya spread out the hearts on the small table he used for just about everything at his apartment except sleeping.
“Oh, you, kid?” he read a purple one aloud. “I wonder what that’s about. Love you, Call me, Hug me, Kiss me - these all seem very aggressive. No wonder America is dealing with a population explosion.”
He picked up a pale yellow one. “Sweet.” He chewed it up and then picked a pink one. It proclaimed, XOXO. It tasted the same as the other one. In fact, they all tasted the same. “So, if they all taste the same, what’s the point to the different colors?” More research obviously needed to be done.
Before he realized it, he’d eaten the whole box and was no closer to the answer. Perhaps, he decided, there was no real answer behind the actual eating, but more in what he was seeing as Americans’ seeming inability to speak their minds.
“What is wrong with telling a woman how you feel, but acceptable to giving her misleading clues like, “Hug Me” and “So Sweet?” He sighed, then stood to take off his holster and weapon. That’s when he saw the green heart on the living room floor. He didn’t remember dropping one.
“Be mine.” Then he saw a second one, orange this time. “Sweetheart.” This was getting more and more strange. That’s when he realized his bedroom door was closed. He never closed his bedroom door.
Illya reached for his weapon and eased up to one side of the door and quickly twisted the knob and pushed the door open. When no responding fire answered him, he glanced in and his jaw dropped at the sight on his bed.
“About time… cutie pie”
Gen: You tell Me
Word count:546
Prompt; Conversational Hearts
My thanks to my betanursesparky and akane42me for a fun prompt.
The candy fell to the floor and sat there for nearly two seconds before Illya scooped it up. He wholeheartedly agreed with the ten-second rule. The candy was heart shaped. He flipped it over and saw the white words, “Cutie pie” on it. Illya made a face while studying it.
“Napoleon?” His partner, fingers tangled in his hair from concentrating glanced over at him with a look bordering panic.
“Yes?”
“What’s cutie pie?”
The words took a moment to sink in. “A what?”
“A cutie pie.”
“It’s a form of endearment, like sweetheart or, you know, a love muffin.”
“Love muffin?” Illya’s expression went from confusion to outright astonishment.
“Don’t tell me you don’t have terms of endearment in Russia.”
“Well, yes, but I think the most outrageous one I know of is sunshine.”
“That’s the Russians for you. Pragmatic to the last.”
Illya smirked. “We get the job done and without all your pomp and circumstance.”
Napoleon’s voice rose just a little. “We happen to like our pomp and circumstance.”
“Obviously, when you have to make little bits of candy confer endearments for you. Russians would come right out and say it.”
“Say what?
“I love you.” Then Illya realized what he said and sighed. “You know what I mean.”
“Sadly, yes, I do.” Napoleon chuckled as Illya’s cheeks flushed slightly. “Now, go away, I need to get this report figured out or my name will be Mud.”
It took him a few days to finally get enough information to make an informed purchase. Illya spread out the hearts on the small table he used for just about everything at his apartment except sleeping.
“Oh, you, kid?” he read a purple one aloud. “I wonder what that’s about. Love you, Call me, Hug me, Kiss me - these all seem very aggressive. No wonder America is dealing with a population explosion.”
He picked up a pale yellow one. “Sweet.” He chewed it up and then picked a pink one. It proclaimed, XOXO. It tasted the same as the other one. In fact, they all tasted the same. “So, if they all taste the same, what’s the point to the different colors?” More research obviously needed to be done.
Before he realized it, he’d eaten the whole box and was no closer to the answer. Perhaps, he decided, there was no real answer behind the actual eating, but more in what he was seeing as Americans’ seeming inability to speak their minds.
“What is wrong with telling a woman how you feel, but acceptable to giving her misleading clues like, “Hug Me” and “So Sweet?” He sighed, then stood to take off his holster and weapon. That’s when he saw the green heart on the living room floor. He didn’t remember dropping one.
“Be mine.” Then he saw a second one, orange this time. “Sweetheart.” This was getting more and more strange. That’s when he realized his bedroom door was closed. He never closed his bedroom door.
Illya reached for his weapon and eased up to one side of the door and quickly twisted the knob and pushed the door open. When no responding fire answered him, he glanced in and his jaw dropped at the sight on his bed.
“About time… cutie pie”